by W. W. Jacobs
DUAL CONTROL
"Never say 'die,' Bert," said Mr. Culpepper, kindly; "I like you, and sodo most other people who know what's good for 'em; and if Florrie don'tlike you she can keep single till she does."
Mr. Albert Sharp thanked him.
"Come in more oftener," said Mr. Culpepper. "If she don't know a steadyyoung man when she sees him, it's her mistake."
"Nobody could be steadier than what I am," sighed Mr. Sharp.
Mr. Culpepper nodded. "The worst of it is, girls don't like steady youngmen," he said, rumpling his thin grey hair; "that's the silly part ofit."
"But you was always steady, and Mrs. Culpepper married you," said theyoung man.
Mr. Culpepper nodded again. "She thought I was, and that came to thesame thing," he said, composedly. "And it ain't for me to say, but shehad an idea that I was very good-looking in them days. I had chestnuttyhair. She burnt a piece of it only the other day she'd kept for thirtyyears."
A very faint squeeze in return decided him]
"Burnt it? What for?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"Words," said the other, lowering his voice. "When I want one thingnowadays she generally wants another; and the things she wants ain't thethings I want."
Mr. Sharp shook his head and sighed again.
"You ain't talkative enough for Florrie, you know," said Mr. Culpepper,regarding him.
"I can talk all right as a rule," retorted Mr. Sharp. "You ought to hearme at the debating society; but you can't talk to a girl who doesn't talkback."
"You're far too humble," continued the other. "You should cheek her abit now and then. Let 'er see you've got some spirit. Chaff 'er."
"That's no good," said the young man, restlessly. "I've tried it. Onlythe other day I called her 'a saucy little kipper,' and the way she wenton, anybody would have thought I'd insulted her. Can't see a joke, Is'pose. Where is she now?"
"Upstairs," was the reply.
"That's because I'm here," said Mr. Sharp. "If it had been Jack Butlershe'd have been down fast enough."
"It couldn't be him," said Mr. Culpepper, "because I won't have 'im inthe house. I've told him so; I've told her so, and I've told 'er auntso. And if she marries without my leave afore she's thirty she loses theseven hundred pounds 'er father left her. You've got plenty of time--tenyears."
Mr. Sharp, sitting with his hands between his knees, gazed despondentlyat the floor. "There's a lot o' girls would jump at me," he remarked."I've only got to hold up my little finger and they'd jump."
"That's because they've got sense," said Mr. Culpepper. "They've got thesense to prefer steadiness and humdrumness to good looks and dash. Ayoung fellow like you earning thirty-two-and-six a week can do withoutgood looks, and if I've told Florrie so once I have told her fiftytimes."
"Looks are a matter of taste," said Mr. Sharp, morosely. "Some of themgirls I was speaking about just now--"
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Culpepper, hastily. "Now, look here; you go on adifferent tack. Take a glass of ale like a man or a couple o' glasses;smoke a cigarette or a pipe. Be like other young men. Cut a dash, anddon't be a namby-pamby. After you're married you can be as miserable asyou like."
Mr. Sharp, after a somewhat lengthy interval, thanked him.
"It's my birthday next Wednesday," continued Mr. Culpepper, regarding himbenevolently; "come round about seven, and I'll ask you to stay tosupper. That'll give you a chance. Anybody's allowed to step a bit overthe mark on birthdays, and you might take a glass or two and make aspeech, and be so happy and bright that they'd 'ardly know you. If youwant an excuse for calling, you could bring me a box of cigars for mybirthday."
"Or come in to wish you 'Many Happy Returns of the Day,'" said thethrifty Mr. Sharp.
"And don't forget to get above yourself," said Mr. Culpepper, regardinghim sternly; "in a gentlemanly way, of course. Have as many glasses asyou like--there's no stint about me."
"If it ever comes off," said Mr. Sharp, rising--"if I get her throughyou, you shan't have reason to repent it. I'll look after that."
Mr. Culpepper, whose feelings were a trifle ruffled, said that he would"look after it too." He had a faint idea that, even from his own pointof view, he might have made a better selection for his niece's hand.
Mr. Sharp smoked his first cigarette the following morning, and,encouraged by the entire absence of any after-effects, purchased a pipe,which was taken up by a policeman the same evening for obstructing thepublic footpath in company with a metal tobacco-box three parts full.
In the matter of ale he found less difficulty. Certainly the taste wasunpleasant, but, treated as medicine and gulped down quickly, it wasendurable. After a day or two he even began to be critical, and onMonday evening went so far as to complain of its flatness to thewide-eyed landlord of the "Royal George."
"Too much cellar-work," he said, as he finished his glass and made forthe door.
"Too much! 'Ere, come 'ere," said the landlord, thickly. "I want tospeak to you."
The expert shook his head, and, passing out into, the street, changedcolour as he saw Miss Garland approaching. In a blundering fashion heclutched at his hat and stammered out a "Good evening."
Miss Garland returned the greeting and, instead of passing on, stoppedand, with a friendly smile, held out her hand. Mr. Sharp shook itconvulsively.
"You are just the man I want to see," she exclaimed. "Aunt and I havebeen talking about you all the afternoon."
Mr. Sharp said "Really!"
"But I don't want uncle to see us," pursued Miss Garland, in the lowtones of confidence. "Which way shall we go?"
Mr. Sharp's brain reeled. All ways were alike to him in such company.He walked beside her like a man in a dream.
"We want to give him a lesson," said the girl, presently. "A lesson thathe will remember."
"Him?" said the young man.
"Uncle," explained the girl. "It's a shocking thing, a wicked thing, totry and upset a steady young man like you. Aunt is quite put out aboutit, and I feel the same as she does."
"But," gasped the astonished Mr. Sharp, "how did you?"
"Aunt heard him," said Miss Garland. "She was just going into the roomwhen she caught a word or two, and she stayed outside and listened. Youdon't know what a lot she thinks of you."
Mr. Sharp's eyes opened wider than ever. "I thought she didn't like me,"he said, slowly.
"Good gracious!" said Miss Garland. "Whatever could have put such anidea as that into your head? Of course, aunt isn't always going to letuncle see that she agrees with him. Still, as if anybody could help--"she murmured to herself.
"Eh?" said the young man, in a trembling voice.
"Nothing."
Miss Garland walked along with averted face; Mr. Sharp, his pulsesbounding, trod on air beside her.
"I thought," he said, at last "I thought that Jack Butler was a favouriteof hers?"
"Jack Butler!" said the girl, in tones of scornful surprise. "The idea!How blind men are; you're all alike, I think. You can't see two inchesin front of you. She's as pleased as possible that you are coming onWednesday; and so am--"
Mr. Sharp caught his breath. "Yes?" he murmured.
"Let's go down here," said Miss Garland quickly; "down by the river. AndI'll tell you what we want you to do."
She placed her hand lightly on his arm, and Mr. Sharp, with a tremuloussmile, obeyed. The smile faded gradually as he listened, and anexpression of anxious astonishment took its place. He shook his head asshe proceeded, and twice ventured a faint suggestion that she was onlyspeaking in jest. Convinced at last, against his will, he walked on insilent consternation.
"But," he said at last, as Miss Garland paused for breath, "your unclewould never forgive me. He'd never let me come near the house again."
"Aunt will see to that," said the girl, confidently. "But, of course, ifyou don't wish to please me--"
She turned away, and Mr. Sharp, plucking up spirit, ventured to take h
erhand and squeeze it. A faint, a very faint, squeeze in return decidedhim.
"It will come all right afterwards," said Miss Garland, "especially withthe hold it will give aunt over him."
"I hope so," said the young man. "If not, I shall be far--farther offthan ever."
Miss Garland blushed and, turning her head, gazed steadily at the river.
"Trust me," she said at last. "Me and auntie."
Mr. Sharp said that so long as he pleased her nothing else mattered, and,in the seventh heaven of delight, paced slowly along the towpath by herside.
"And you mustn't mind what auntie and I say to you," said the girl,continuing her instructions. "We must keep up appearances, you know; andif we seem to be angry, you must remember we are only pretending."
Mr. Sharp, with a tender smile, said that he understood perfectly.
"And now I had better go," said Florrie, returning the smile. "Unclemight see us together, or somebody else might see us and tell him.Good-bye."
She shook hands and went off, stopping three times to turn and wave herhand. In a state of bewildered delight Mr. Sharp continued his stroll,rehearsing, as he went, the somewhat complicated and voluminousinstructions she had given him.
By Wednesday evening he was part-perfect, and, in a state of mind dividedbetween nervousness and exaltation, set out for Mr. Culpepper's. Hefound that gentleman, dressed in his best, sitting in an easy-chair withhis hands folded over a fancy waistcoat of startling design, and, placinga small box of small cigars on his knees, wished him the usual "HappyReturns." The entrance of the ladies, who seemed as though they had justcome off the ice, interrupted Mr. Culpepper's thanks.
"Getting spoiled, that's what I am," he remarked, playfully. "See thiswaistcoat? My old Aunt Elizabeth sent it this morning."
He leaned back in his chair and glanced down in warm approval. "Themissis gave me a pipe, and Florrie gave me half a pound of tobacco. AndI bought a bottle of port wine myself, for all of us."
He pointed to a bottle that stood on the supper-table, and, the ladiesretiring to the kitchen to bring in the supper, rose and placed chairs.A piece of roast beef was placed before him, and, motioning Mr. Sharp toa seat opposite Florrie, he began to carve.
"Just a nice comfortable party," he said, genially, as he finished."Help yourself to the ale, Bert."
Mr. Sharp, ignoring the surprise on the faces of the ladies, complied,and passed the bottle to Mr. Culpepper. They drank to each other, andagain a flicker of surprise appeared on the faces of Mrs. Culpepper andher niece. Mr. Culpepper, noticing it, shook his head waggishly at Mr.Sharp.
"He drinks it as if he likes it," he remarked.
"I do," asserted Mr. Sharp, and, raising his glass, emptied it, andresumed the attack on his plate. Mr. Culpepper unscrewed the top ofanother bottle, and the reckless Mr. Sharp, after helping himself, made ashort and feeling speech, in which he wished Mr. Culpepper long life andhappiness. "If you ain't happy with Mrs. Culpepper," he concluded,gallantly, "you ought to be."
Mr. Culpepper nodded and went on eating in silence until, the keen edgeof his appetite having been taken off, he put down his knife and fork andwaxed sentimental.
"Been married over thirty years," he said, slowly, with a glance at hiswife, "and never regretted it."
"Who hasn't?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"Why, me," returned the surprised Mr. Culpepper.
Mr. Sharp, who had just raised his glass, put it down again and smiled.It was a faint smile, but it seemed to affect his host unfavourably.
"What are you smiling at?" he demanded.
"Thoughts," said Mr. Sharp, exchanging a covert glance with Florrie."Something you told me the other day."
Mr. Culpepper looked bewildered. "I'll give you a penny for themthoughts," he said, with an air of jocosity.
Mr. Sharp shook his head. "Money couldn't buy 'em," he said, with owlishsolemnity, "espec--especially after the good supper you're giving me."
"Bert," said Mr. Culpepper, uneasily, as his wife sat somewhat erect"Bert, it's my birthday, and I don't grudge nothing to nobody; but goeasy with the beer. You ain't used to it, you know."
"What's the matter with the beer?" inquired Mr. Sharp. "It tastes allright--what there is of it."
"It ain't the beer; it's you," explained Mr. Culpepper.
Mr. Sharp stared at him. "Have I said anything I oughtn't to?" heinquired.
Mr. Culpepper shook his head, and, taking up a fork and spoon, began toserve a plum-pudding that Miss Garland had just placed on the table.
"What was it you said I was to be sure and not tell Mrs. Culpepper?"inquired Mr. Sharp, dreamily. "I haven't said that, have I?"
"No!" snapped the harassed Mr. Culpepper, laying down the fork and spoonand regarding him ferociously. "I mean, there wasn't anything. I mean,I didn't say so. You're raving."
"If I did say it, I'm sorry," persisted Mr. Sharp. "I can't say fairerthan that, can I?"
"You're all right," said Mr. Culpepper, trying, but in vain, to exchangea waggish glance with his wife.
"I didn't say it?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"No," said Mr. Culpepper, still smiling in a wooden fashion.
"I mean the other thing?" said Mr. Sharp, in a thrilling whisper.
"Look here," exclaimed the overwrought Mr. Culpepper; "why not eat yourpudding, and leave off talking nonsense? Nobody's listening to you."
"Speak for yourself," said his wife, tartly. "I like to hear Mr. Sharptalk. What was it he told you not to tell me?"
Mr. Sharp eyed her mistily. "I--I can't tell you," he said, slowly.
"Why not?" asked Mrs. Culpepper, coaxingly.
"Because it--it would make your hair stand on end," said the industriousMr. Sharp.
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Culpepper, sharply.
"He said it would," said Mr. Sharp, indicating his host with his spoon,"and he ought--to know-- Who's that kicking me under the table?"
Mr. Culpepper, shivering with wrath and dread, struggled for speech."You'd better get home, Bert," he said at last. "You're not yourself.There's nobody kicking you under the table. You don't know what you aresaying. You've been dreaming things. I never said anything of thekind."
"Memory's gone," said Mr. Sharp, shaking his head at him. "Clean gone.Don't you remember--"
"NO!" roared Mr. Culpepper.
Mr. Sharp sat blinking at him, but his misgivings vanished before theglances of admiring devotion which Miss Garland was sending in hisdirection. He construed them rightly not only as a reward, but as anincentive to further efforts. In the midst of an impressive silence Mrs.Culpepper collected the plates and, producing a dish of fruit from thesideboard, placed it upon the table.
"Help yourself, Mr. Sharp," she said, pushing the bottle of port towardshim.
Mr. Sharp complied, having first, after several refusals, put a littleinto the ladies' glasses, and a lot on the tablecloth near Mr. Culpepper.Then, after a satisfying sip or two, he rose with a bland smile andannounced his intention of making a speech.
"But you've made one," said his host, in tones of fierce expostulation.
"That--that was las' night," said Mr. Sharp. "This is to-night--yourbirthday."
"Well, we don't want any more," said Mr. Culpepper.
Mr. Sharp hesitated. "It's only his fun," he said, looking round andraising his glass. "He's afraid I'm going to praise him up--praise himup. Here's to my old friend, Mr. Culpepper: one of the best. We allhave our--faults, and he has his--has his. Where was I?"
"Sit down," growled Mr. Culpepper.
"Talking about my husband's faults," said his wife.
"So I was," said Mr. Sharp, putting his hand to his brow. "Don't bealarm'," he continued, turning to his host; "nothing to be alarm' about.I'm not going to talk about 'em. Not so silly as that, I hope. I don'twant spoil your life."
"Sit down," repeated Mr. Culpepper.
"You're very anxious he should sit down," said his wife, sharply.
/> "No, I'm not," said Mr. Culpepper; "only he's talking nonsense."
Mr. Sharp, still on his legs, took another sip of port and, avoiding theeye of Mr. Culpepper, which was showing signs of incipient inflammation,looked for encouragement to Miss Garland.
"He's a man we all look up to and respect," he continued. "If he does gooff to London every now and then on business, that's his lookout. Myidea is he always ought to take Mrs. Culpepper with him.
"He'd have pleasure of her company and, same time, he'd be money in pocketby it. And why shouldn't she go to music-halls sometimes? Why shouldn'tshe--"
"You get off home," said the purple Mr. Culpepper, rising and hammeringthe table with his fist. "Get off home; and if you so much as show yourface inside this 'ouse again there'll be trouble. Go on. Out you go!"
"Home?" repeated Mr. Sharp, sitting down suddenly. "Won't go home tillmorning."
"Oh, we'll soon see about that," said Mr. Culpepper, taking him by theshoulders. "Come on, now."
Mr. Sharp subsided lumpishly into his chair, and Mr. Culpepper, despitehis utmost efforts, failed to move him. The two ladies exchanged aglance, and then, with their heads in the air, sailed out of the room,the younger pausing at the door to bestow a mirthful glance upon Mr.Sharp ere she disappeared.
"Come--out," said Mr. Culpepper, panting.
"You trying to tickle me?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"You get off home," said the other. "You've been doing nothing but makemischief ever since you came in. What put such things into your sillyhead I don't know. I shall never hear the end of 'em as long as I live."
"Silly head?" repeated Mr. Sharp, with an alarming change of manner."Say it again."
Mr. Culpepper repeated it with gusto.
"Very good," said Mr. Sharp. He seized him suddenly and, pushing himbackwards into his easychair, stood over him with such hideouscontortions of visage that Mr. Culpepper was horrified. "Now you sitthere and keep quite still," he said, with smouldering ferocity. "Wheredid you put carving-knife? Eh? Where's carving-knife?"
"No, no, Bert," said Mr. Culpepper, clutching at his sleeve. "I--I wasonly joking. You--you ain't quite yourself, Bert."
"What?" demanded the other, rolling his eyes, and clenching his fists.
"I--I mean you've improved," said Mr. Culpepper, hurriedly. "Wonderful,you have."
Mr. Sharp's countenance cleared a little. "Let's make a night of it," hesaid. "Don't move, whatever you do."
He felt the large and clumsy hand of Mr. Butler take himby the collar]
He closed the door and, putting the wine and a couple of glasses on themantelpiece, took a chair by Mr. Culpepper and prepared to spend theevening. His instructions were too specific to be disregarded, and threetimes he placed his arm about the waist of the frenzied Mr. Culpepper andtook him for a lumbering dance up and down the room. In the intervalsbetween dances he regaled him with interminable extracts from speechesmade at the debating society and recitations learned at school.Suggestions relating to bed, thrown out by Mr. Culpepper from time totime, were repelled with scorn. And twice, in deference to Mr. Sharp'sdesires, he had to join in the chorus of a song.
Ten o'clock passed, and the hands of the clock crawled round to eleven.The hour struck, and, as though in answer, the door opened and theagreeable face of Florrie Garland appeared. Behind her, to the intensesurprise of both gentlemen, loomed the stalwart figure of Mr. JackButler.
"I thought he might be useful, uncle," said Miss Garland, coming into theroom. "Auntie wouldn't let me come down before."
Mr. Sharp rose in a dazed fashion and saw Mr. Culpepper grasp Mr. Butlerby the hand. More dazed still, he felt the large and clumsy hand of Mr.Butler take him by the collar and propel him with some violence along thesmall passage, while another hand, which he dimly recognized as belongingto Mr. Culpepper, was inserted in the small of his back. Then the frontdoor opened and he was thrust out into the night. The door closed, and alow feminine laugh sounded from a window above.
'I tell you, I am as innercent as a new-born babe'.]