A Lame Dog's Diary Part 12

"Charles Fenwick," I said, "who used to be considered amusing, has become simply idiotic since he married. He gave me an exact account of his little boy's sayings; he copied the way he asked for sugar, like the chirruping of a bird. You won't believe me, I know, but he put out his lips and chirped."

"I remember being positively warned against him," said Palestrina, "when I used to go to dances in London." She sighed, and added, "Do you think Mrs. Fielden enjoyed it?"

"I think Mrs. Fielden was distinctly amused," I replied.

"Do you think," said Palestrina, still in a disappointed tone, "that the men would have been more--more larky if we had been alone? Mrs.

Fielden always looks so beautiful and dresses so well that I think she impresses people too much, and they are all trying to talk to her instead of making a row."

"I think we may as well go to bed," I said.

Palestrina rose slowly, and went towards the bell to ring for my man to help me. She lingered for a moment by my chair. "Yet books say that men require so much keeping in order," she said sadly. "I wish people would not write about what does not occur."

CHAPTER X.

The Jamiesons have taken lodgings in West Kensington, which they describe as being "most central"--a phrase which I have begun to think means inexpensive--and near a line of omnibuses. George and the Pirate are a.s.siduous in taking their sisters to the Play and other places of amus.e.m.e.nt, and are showing them something of London with a zeal which speaks much for their goodness of heart. Even Mrs. Jamieson has been out once or twice, and although doubly tearful on the morning following any little bit of dissipation, her family feel that the variety has been good for her. Eliza has found that London is radio-active, hence enjoyable. And Eliza had been only once to the Royal Inst.i.tution when she said it! Maud's engagement to the Hampstead young man has been finally broken off, and Maud has cried so much that her family have forgiven her. Maud explains that it is such an upset for a girl to break off an engagement, and The Family say soothingly that she must just try and get over it.

"We hope," said Kate, "that next time things will arrange themselves more happily, and at least we can all feel that Maud might have married many times, had she wished to do so." There seems to be a strong feeling in The Family that Maud will go on having opportunities.

Arguing from the general to the particular, they have proved, with a sort of tribal feeling of satisfaction, that Maud is undoubtedly very attractive to men, and that if one man likes her, why should not another?

Still, we all felt that we could not have sympathized immediately with another love affair of Maud's, and it was refreshing, not to say most pleasing and surprising, to find that since her arrival in Town, it was Margaret who attracted the notice of a gentleman, Mr. Swinnerton by name, a friend of George's, who brought him to supper one Sunday evening. The Jamiesons could see at a glance that Mr. Swinnerton was "struck," and, as he called two or three times in the following week, Margaret made the usual Jamieson opportunity of seeing Palestrina home, one afternoon when she had been to call, to embark in confidences about her lover in the usual Jamieson style. Margaret was diffident, bashful, shy, uncertain about Mr. Swinnerton's feelings for her, and hopelessly nervous lest her family should have had their expectations raised only to be disappointed. She implored Palestrina over and over again to say nothing about it to them, though it has been more than obvious to us all along how full of expectation every member of The Family is. It was a very wet evening as Margaret and my sister left the Jamiesons' lodgings, but she hardly seemed conscious of the inclemency of the weather, and begged Palestrina not to think of taking a cab, as she particularly wished to speak to her.

"At first," she began, "I thought it must be Maud, although she has but just broken off her engagement to Mr. Evans; still, one knows she is the pretty one, and if any one calls often, it is generally her."

It was a little difficult to follow Margaret's rapid, ungrammatical speech, but Palestrina and I both knew that to the vigorous minds of the Jamiesons there must be a direct purpose in every action, and that therefore if Mr. Swinnerton came to call he must have a purpose, presumably a matrimonial purpose, for paying his visits. After two or three afternoon calls from a gentleman the Jamiesons generally ask each other ingenuously, "Which of us is it?" It hardly seems to them respectable that a man should continue to pay them visits unless he means to show a preference for one of them.

Presuming that it was not Maud he came to see, Margaret, with modest hesitation and many blushes, asked Palestrina if she did not think it possible that these visits might be intended for her.

"Please do not say anything about it to the others. I always have hoped that if ever I had a love affair it would be when I was away from home. Do you know at all what they think about it?"

She did not pause for a reply, but began again: "You see he has called three times in one week, but" (hopelessly) "I am always surrounded by The Family, and he couldn't say anything if he wanted to. Of course I don't think it has come to anything of that sort yet; still, you know, we could get to know each other better if there were not so many of us always about. Maud doesn't mind a bit; she has had love affairs in front of us all, and she does not mind talking about them in the least, or even asking us to let her have the drawing-room to herself on certain afternoons. But I don't feel as if I could bear to have this discussed before anything is settled. And then we have so few opportunities. Maud generally takes them to a distant church, and then they have the walk home together. But I never quite know whether she makes the suggestion about church, or if she merely thinks it would be nice, and leaves the man to make it."

"Maud," I remarked parenthetically to Palestrina, "has raised love-making to a science--an exact science."

"I hope you don't think for a moment," Margaret had gone on, "that I am abusing Maud; you know how fond we all are of each other."

Maud's experiences on matters matrimonial are always quoted as precedent in the Jamieson family, and she is cited whenever anything of the sort is afoot. Each phase in her experience is frankly discussed, and conclusions are drawn from it; and I have heard the Jamiesons say, "Mr. So-and-so must be in love with Miss So-and-so; he looks at her in exactly the same way that Mr. Reddy used to look at Maud." Maud herself, unconsciously as I believe, makes a sort of calendar of her love affairs, and it is quite usual for her to date an event by referring to it as having happened "in the Albert Gore days," or "when Mr. Evans was hovering."

Margaret's voice had not ceased from the moment they left the lodgings together. "It is, however, no use trying to copy other people in your love affairs," she said, "because it seems to come to every one so differently, and then of course different people must call forth different feelings. I don't think I could have felt for Mr. Reddy, for instance, quite as I do now, even if he had been in love with me. You feel so bewildered somehow."

The walk had by this time become very rapid, and Margaret, in her short-sighted way, knocked against all the foot-pa.s.sengers whom she met travelling in the opposite direction. Her umbrella showered raindrops upon Palestrina, and she became so incoherent that my sister suggested taking a cab to our flat, and talking things over quietly when they should get there.

It was about eleven o'clock that night when Margaret Jamieson took leave of us, and by that time I fancy the bridesmaids' dresses had been arranged.

A few days later Palestrina received a note by the hand of a messenger-boy; it bore the word "Immediate" on the cover, and had evidently been addressed in some haste.

"DEAR PALESTRINA (it ran),

"Can you possibly come to make a fourth at a concert this afternoon?

Do come, even if it should be rather inconvenient to you. I want you so much. Mr. Swinnerton has asked mamma and me, and he has taken tickets. They are not reserved places, so we could easily arrange to meet at the door and sit together. Three is such an awkward number. I fear mamma does not care for him, and that is a great grief to me. I will tell you everything this afternoon.

"Yours affectionately, "MARGARET JAMIESON.

"_P.S._--It is all going to come right, I believe, but I have had immense difficulties. Hardly ten minutes alone with him--you know we have only one sitting-room.--but the family have been sweet."

"Hugo," said Palestrina, "this is an occasion when you could give very substantial aid to a deserving family."

"I am sorry I am engaged this afternoon," I said, with an instinct of self-preservation, without, however, having any definite idea of what Palestrina might say next.

"It is I who am engaged this afternoon," said my sister smiling, "and you are perfectly aware of that fact. Thomas is taking me down to Richmond to introduce me to his aunt. Besides, Hugo, you know you like music."

"I am very sorry, Palestrina," I said, "but it is quite impossible."

"Margaret is the Jamieson you like best," said Palestrina, "and I hate to think of your being here alone a whole afternoon. What were you thinking of doing?"

I had been thinking of going to this concert, and Palestrina guessed it, of course....

I was at the door of the concert hall at two-thirty in the afternoon, and found Mrs. Jamieson and Margaret and the young man already on the pavement, looking as if they had stood there for a considerable time.

Mr. Swinnerton is a large, rather stupid-looking man, with a red face, a crooked nose, and curly hair. He wore a dark blue overcoat, so thick and strong that it reminded one of some encas.e.m.e.nt of plaster of Paris, or of some heavy coat of mail. His hands were covered in yellow dogskin gloves, equally unyielding, so that Mr. Swinnerton appeared deprived of any agility of movement by his garments. Mr. Swinnerton is in the volunteers, and has "Captain Swinnerton" printed on his cards.

He gave me the idea of seeming to think that every action of his was some epoch-making event, and during the afternoon he frequently referred to having seen a picture then on view at one of the galleries, as though this were rather an up-to-date, not to say remarkable, proceeding. Margaret seemed a good deal impressed by his manner, and the Jamiesons had decided that he was "smart," which was a further and quite unnecessary addition to Mr. Swinnerton's vanity, and very bad for a gentleman of his complacent character.

He ushered us into the Queen's Hall in an important sort of way, which gave one the impression that the place belonged to him; and the fact that I was making a third in a party under his guidance convinced me that I was in some sort adding to his self-satisfaction. Mr.

Swinnerton had chosen shilling places, because, as he informed us a great number of times, these were in the best position for hearing the music. Mrs. Jamieson was disappointed. In her cla.s.s of life a treat is given on a more magnificent scale.

"Shall I sit next you, Mrs. Jamieson?" I said, for I believed that this was what I was intended to say; but Mr. Swinnerton remarked to Margaret, "I'll go next; I like to divide myself amongst the ladies."

Mrs. Jamieson looked uncomfortable in the small amount of s.p.a.ce a shilling had procured for her, and she suggested apologetically that she would like a programme; but the music was beginning, and Mr.

Swinnerton put up his large, stiff-gloved hand like a slab, and said, "Hush!"

We went faithfully through the orthodox Queen's Hall concert from the very first note to the "Ride of the Valkyries," and after every item on the programme our host turned to us, moving his whole body in his stout coat, and said, "Isn't that nice now?--very nice I call it!" still with an air of ownership.

Mrs. Jamieson slept a little; but the hardness of her seat made it an uneasy resting-place, and it is to be feared that her mantle with the storm-collar was too hot; but, she whispered to me in a burst of confidence, she was unable to remove it owing to the fact that the bodice and skirt of her dress did not correspond.

"I always like these places," said Mr. Swinnerton again; "they are exactly in the centre of the hall, and another thing is, they are near the door in case of fire."

Margaret a.s.sented sweetly. I always thought until to-day that Margaret Jamieson was a plain woman; to-day I find she is good-looking.

"It is ridiculous," said Mr. Swinnerton, "to see the way people throw their money away on really inferior seats, just because they think they are fashionable."

Mrs. Jamieson stirred a little on her uneasy bench, and Mr. Swinnerton said in self-defence, "Don't you agree with me, eh?"

"I think," said Mrs. Jamieson politely, "that perhaps for a long concert the _fotoys_ would be more comfortable."

"Ah!" cried Mr. Swinnerton, "you want to be fashionable, I see; but there are many of the best people who come to these seats. I know of a Member of Parliament--I don't know him, I know of him" (we felt that some connection with the Member had been established)--"who comes regularly to these very places, and who declares they are the best in the house."