CHAPTER IV
MR. ELY WOOES
The interview between Mr. Ely and the object of his heart's devotionwas not so solemn as it might have been. Possibly that was in ameasure owing to what had gone before. But it must be owned that MissTruscott's mood was hardly attuned to the occasion. We must also, atthe same time, allow that Mr. Ely's demeanour was hardly that of theideal wooer.
"Your aunt seems to have a nice idea of business! I've heard a fewthings, but she beats all! I thought she was getting at me, upon myword I did!"
This was scarcely the remark with which to open a tender interview.Miss Truscott said nothing. She was seated in a low garden-chair,hatless, her little feet peeping from under the hem of her summergown. She seemed sufficiently cool just then, but her silence did notappear to be altogether to Mr. Ely's liking. He himself did not seemto be as cool as he might have been.
"I believe, Miss Truscott, that Mr. Ash has told you what's brought mehere."
Mr. Ely's tone seemed even waspish--not loverlike at all.
"Indeed!" Miss Truscott just parted her lips and let the word dropout, that was all.
"May I ask what I am to understand by that?"
Just then a fat white dog, of the doormat species, appeared on the topof the steps. Miss Truscott addressed this animal--
"Pompey! Pompey! Good dog! Come here!"
The "good dog" referred to slowly waddled across the grass, and onreaching Miss Truscott's chair was raised to the seat of honour uponthat lady's knee.
"Are you interested in dogs, Mr. Ely? If so, I am sure you must likePompey. He generally bites strangers at first, but perhaps after atime he won't bite you!"
"I'll take care he doesn't get a chance--either first or last."
"Why not? He bit a piece of cloth out of the Curate's trousers theother day, but Mr. Staines says that he doesn't think his teeth quitemet in the calf of his leg."
Mr. Ely gasped. His temperature seemed rapidly to increase.
"I did not come here to talk about dogs: and you'll excuse mymentioning that you have not yet informed me as to whether Mr. Ash hastold you what I did come for."
"Let me see!" Miss Truscott took out her guardian's letter andreferred to it before Mr. Ely's distended eyes. "Hum--hum--Pompey, liedown! There, now Pompey has torn it all to bits!" As indeed the animalhad, and was now chewing some of the fragments as though they were asort of supplementary meal. "What shall I do? Pompey has the mostextraordinary taste. It runs in the family, I think. Do you know thathis mother once ate nearly the whole of a pair of my old shoes?"
Mr. Ely wiped his brow. He was becoming very warm indeed. He seatedhimself in another garden chair. For a moment he contemplated drawingit closer to Miss Truscott's side, but the thought of Pompey and hisextraordinary taste--which ran in his family--induced him to refrain.
"Miss Truscott, I'm a business man, and I like to do things in abusiness kind of way."
Mr. Ely paused. He felt that he was feeling his way. But the younglady disarranged his plans.
"By the way, Mr. Ely, have you been up Regent Street just lately?"
"Been up Regent Street?"
"Can you tell me if there are any nice things in the shop-windows?"
Mr. Ely did not exactly gasp this time. He choked down something inhis throat. What it was we cannot say.
"Miss Truscott, I'm a business man----"
"You said that before." The words were murmured as Miss Truscottstroked Pompey's woolly head.
"Said it before! I say it again! I wish you'd allow me to get rightthrough."
"Right through what?"
"Right through what! Right through what I have to say!"
"Oh, go on, pray. I hope I haven't interrupted you?"
"Interrupted me!" Mr. Ely snorted; no other word will describe thesound he made. "I say, I'm a business man----"
"Third time of asking!"
Mr. Ely got up. He looked very cross indeed. Pompey snarled. Thatfaithful animal seemed to scent battle in the air.
"Well, I'm--hanged!"
We fear that Mr. Ely would have preferred another termination, but hecontented himself with "hanged." Miss Truscott looked up. She allowedher long, sweeping eyelashes gradually to unveil her eyes. Sheregarded Mr. Ely with a look of the sweetest, most innocent surprise.
"Mr. Ely! Whatever is there wrong?"
Mr. Ely was obliged to take a step or two before he could trusthimself to speak. As he was sufficiently warm already the exercise didnot tend to make him cool. Under the circumstances, he showed aconsiderable amount of courage in coming to the point with a rush.
"Miss Truscott, I want a wife!"
"You want a what?"
"A wife! Don't I say it plain enough? I want a wife!"
"I see. You want a wife." With her calmest, coolest air Miss Truscottcontinued stroking Pompey's head. "Did you notice how they are wearingthe hats in town?"
Mr. Ely sprang--literally sprang!--about an inch and a half from theground. "What the dickens do I know about the hats in town?"
"Mr. Ely! How excited you do get! I thought everybody knew about thehats in town--I mean, whether they wear them on the right side or theleft."
Mr. Ely was not an excitable man as a rule, but he certainly did seemexcited now. His handkerchief, which he had kept in his hand since thecommencement of the interview, he had kneaded into a little ball whichwas hard as stone.
"Miss Truscott, I'll--I'll give a sovereign to any charity you like toname if you'll stick to the point for just two minutes."
"Hand over the sovereign!"
Mr. Ely was taken aback. Miss Truscott held out her small, white handwith a promptitude which surprised him.
"I--I said that I would give a sovereign to any charity you like toname if you'll stick to the point for just two minutes."
"Cash in advance, and I'll keep to any point you like to name forten."
Mr. Ely was doubtful. Miss Truscott looked at him with eyes which werewide enough open now. Her hand was unflinchingly held out. Mr. Elyfelt in the recesses of his waistcoat pocket. He produced a sovereignpurse, and from this sovereign purse he produced a coin.
"It's the first time I ever heard of a man having to pay a sovereignto ask a woman to be his wife!"
"Hand over the sovereign!" She became possessed of the golden coin."This sovereign will be applied to the charitable purpose of erectinga monument over Pompey's mother's grave. Now, Mr. Ely, I'm your man."
Mr. Ely seemed a little subdued. The business-like way in which he hadbeen taken at his word perhaps caused him to feel a certain respectfor the lady's character. He reseated himself in the garden-chair.
"I've already said that I want a wife."
"Do you wish me to find you one? I can introduce you to several of myfriends. I know a young lady in the village, aged about thirty-eight,who has an impediment in her speech, who would make an excellentcompanion for your more silent hours."
"The wife I want is you."
"That is very good of you, I'm sure."
There was a pause. The lady, with a little smile, tranquilly tickledPompey with the sovereign she had earned. The gentleman fidgeted withhis handkerchief.
"Well, Miss Truscott, am I to be gratified?"
"Why do you want me? Won't some one else do as well?"
Immediately the gentleman became a little rose.
"May I ask you for an answer to my question?"
"You haven't asked me a question yet."
"Will you be my wife?"
The question was put in a rather louder key than, in such cases, isunderstood to be the rule. Miss Truscott raised her head, and for somemoments kept her glance fixed upon the gentleman, as though she weretrying to read something in his face. Then she lowered her glance andmade answer thus--
"Frankly--you say you are a business man--let us, as you suggest,understand each other in a business kind of way. In asking me to beyour wife, you are not asking for--love?"
As she spoke of love her lips gave just the tiniest twitch.
"I believe that a wife is supposed to love her husband--as a rule."
"In your creed love comes after marriage?"
"At this present moment I'm asking you to be my wife."
"That's exactly what I understand. You're not even making a pretenceof loving me?"
"Miss Truscott, as you put it, I'm a business man. I have money, youhave money----"
"Let's put the lot together and make a pile. Really, that's not a badidea on the whole." It was the young lady who gave this ratherunexpected conclusion to his sentence. Then she looked at him steadilywith those great eyes of hers, whose meaning for the life of him hecould not understand. "I suppose that all you want from me is 'Yes';and that in complete indifference as to whether I like you or do not?"
"If you didn't like me you wouldn't be sitting here."
"Really, that's not a bad idea again. You arrive at rapid conclusionsin your own peculiar way. I suppose if I told you that I could like aman--love him better than my life--you would not understand."
"That sort of thing is not my line. I'm not a sentimental kind of man.I say a thing and mean a thing and when I say I'll do a thing it'sjust as good as done."
"Then all you want me to be is--Mrs. Ely?"
"What else do you suppose I want you to be? It's amazing how even themost sensible women like to beat about the bush. Here have I asked youa good five minutes to be my wife, and you're just coming to thepoint. Why can't you say right out--Yes or No."
Miss Truscott shrugged her shoulders.
"I suppose it doesn't matter?"
"What doesn't matter?"
"What I say."
"By George, though, but it does!"
Miss Truscott leaned her head back in her chair. She put her handbefore her mouth as if to hide a yawn. She closed her eyes. She lookedmore than half asleep.
"Then I will."
"Will what?"
"Say 'Yes.'"
"You mean that you will be my wife? It's a bargain, mind!"
"It is a bargain. That's just the proper word to use."
"That's all right. Then I'll send a wire to Ash to let him know it'sdone."
"Yes, send a wire up to town to let him know it's done."
Mr. Ely moved towards the house. From her voice and manner MissTruscott still seemed more than half asleep; but hers was a curiouskind of sleepiness, for in the corner of each of her closed eyelidsthere gleamed something that looked very like a drop of diamond dew.Prosaic people might have said it was a tear.
The Woman with One Hand, and Mr. Ely's Engagement Page 15