“You’re tired,” he said hoarsely. “That’s all. Tired and overwrought.”
“Rot,” said Julia. “It’s this flat or Hill Street, of course. The
question is which. Hill Street is very——”
“But it’s settled,” screamed Hubert. “It was settled two hours ago. The
moment we saw——”
“That,” said Julia, “is my trouble. Now that I’ve had time to think, I’m
not at all sure that Hill Street wouldn’t be best. For one thing——”
“Look here,” said Hubert uncertainly. “Yesterday we saw Hill Street. We
both found it a most elegant, agreeable apartment, more than suitable to
our requirements and cheap at the price. To-day we inspected ten of the
most bestial lodgments that ever cumbered the earth. When I ventured to
compare them with Hill Street I was reviled as a slow belly.”
“How dare you?” said Julia. “I never——”
“That,” said Hubert, “was what you inferred. To-night—thanks entirely
to your tireless enterprise, which I readily confess I did my best to
embarrass—we totter slap into H.M.’s Dolls’ House—life-size. . . .
Well, we both go wild about Harry. We rise up and call one another
blessed. For an hour we stagger deliriously about our future home,
repeatedly disclosing to each other its perfectly manifest excellence
and fatuously declaring our relish by word and deed. The idea of
comparing it with its predecessors never occurred to me. It wouldn’t
have occurred to anyone, because—it is incomparable.”
“So you think,” said Julia.
“So did you. Now—one brief hour after we’ve left it, you begin to
boggle at what you call the wisdom of pickin’ the godsend up.”
He flung up his hands with a despairing gesture and subsided heavily
upon the club-kerb.
“I’m afraid the gent’s fickle,” said Julia, “as well as selfish.”
Challenger set his teeth. “On Friday Hill Street has it. On Saturday
South Street’s the peach. I wonder what’ll win it on Monday.”
“Monday?” cried Hubert. “You don’t mean to suggest——”
“Why not?” said Julia.
Her _fiancé_ drew in his breath.
“If you seek sorrow on Monday, you seek it alone.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Julia.
“I’m not being absurd,” raved Hubert. “The whole thing’s monstrous. One
of us is insane.”
“I agree,” said Miss Willow. “But for me, you’d ’ve taken Hill Street.
Now I’ve shown you something better you’re all over that. On Monday——”
“You admit it’s better?”
“Not at all. We’ve got to make up our minds between the three. If we had
those doors gilded—— Where are you going?”
“I’m going to some place where I can burst,” said Hubert wildly. “I
don’t want to do it here. I’ve no quarrel with your parents.”
“Have you a quarrel with me?”
“I soon shall have,” said Challenger, wiping his brow. “It’s
eighty-eight in the shade, I’ve walked about sixteen miles over bare
boards, and now I’m expected to sit still and watch you tear everything
up out of sheer, wanton, blasphemous caprice. It’s enough to induce a
blood-clot.”
“Of course,” said Julia, “you’re making me simply hate South Street.
That’s my nature, you know. I’m really too easy-going. Treat me nicely,
and I’ll eat right out of your hand from morning to night. But if you
try and ram something down my throat, it just revolts me.”
“First the truth,” said her squire, “and then the fiction. If you were
easy-going, we shouldn’t have visited over half a hundred private
residences in six days. Unless I was easy-going and a full-marks fool, I
shouldn’t have gone with you. As for——”
“When I said ‘easy-going,’” said Julia, “I did not mean ‘indolent’ or
‘labour-shy.’”
“And when I called you ‘capricious,’” retorted Challenger, “I meant
‘capricious’ with a well-known adverb in front.” Two red spots appeared
in Miss Willow’s cheeks. Hubert proceeded vigorously, “For Heaven’s
sake, Julia, pull up your socks. By noon on Monday I’ll bet that flat
has gone. The next fool that sees it won’t wait. And while we’re
sweating up strange staircases, wondering whether we should be wise to
have the Sloane Street doors nickel-plated or the bathrooms at Hill
Street filled in, the last word in habitations will be signed over. Then
I suppose I shall get it for being dilatory.”
Julia rose to her feet.
“Wrong again,” she said. “You won’t even get it for being
abusive—because you won’t be engaged.” The man’s lips tightened. “This
little episode, Hubert, has opened my eyes. And I fear that life with
you in South Street or anywhere else would be just a shade too exacting
for this little girl.”
There was a moment’s silence.