Septimus Part 24

But Zora was not satisfied with the professional philosopher's presentation of the affair. She sought Wiggleswick, whom she found before a blazing fire in the sitting-room, his feet on the mantelpiece, smoking a Havana cigar.

On her approach he wriggled to attention, and extinguishing the cigar by means of saliva and a h.o.r.n.y thumb and forefinger, put the stump into his pocket.

"Good morning, Wiggleswick," said Zora cheerfully.

"Good morning, ma'am," said Wiggleswick.

"You seem to be having a good time."

Wiggleswick gave her to understand that, thanks to his master's angelic disposition and his own worthiness, he always had a good time.

"Now that he's married there will have to be a few changes in household arrangements," said Zora.

"What changes?"

"There will be a cook and parlor maid and regular hours, and a mistress to look after things."

Wiggleswick put his cunning gray head on one side.

"I'm sure they'll make me very comfortable, ma'am. If they do the work, I won't raise no manner of objection."

Zora, regarding the egoist with mingled admiration and vexedness, could only say, "Oh!"

"I never raised no objection to his marriage from the first," said Wiggleswick.

"Did he consult you about it?"

"Of course he did," he replied with an indulgent smile, while the light of sportive fancy gleamed behind his blear eyes. "He looks on me as a father, he does, ma'am. 'Wiggleswick,' says he, 'I'm going to be married.' 'I'm delighted to hear it, sir,' says I. 'A man needs a woman's 'and about him,'

says I."

"When did he tell you this?"

Wiggleswick searched his inventive memory.

"About a fortnight ago. 'If I may be so bold, sir, who is the young lady?'

I asks. 'It's Miss Emily Oldrieve,' says he, and I said, 'A nicer, brighter, prettier bit of goods'--I beg your pardon, ma'am--'young lady, you couldn't pick up between here and Houndsditch.' I did say that, ma'am, I tell you straight." He looked at her keenly to see whether this expression of loyal admiration of his new mistress had taken effect, and then continued. "And then he says to me, 'Wiggleswick, there ain't going to be no grand wedding. You know me.'--And I does, ma'am. The outlandish things he does, ma'am, would shock an alligator.--'I should forget the day,' says he. 'I should lose the ring. I should marry the wrong party. I should forget to kiss the bridesmaids. Lord knows what I shouldn't do. So we're going up to London to be married on the Q.T., and don't you say nothing to n.o.body."

"So you've been in this conspiracy for a fortnight," said Zora severely, "and you never thought it your duty to stop him doing so foolish a thing?"

"As getting married, ma'am?"

"No. Such a silly thing as running away."

"Of course I did, ma'am," said Wiggleswick, who went on mendaciously to explain that he had used every means in his power to prevail on his master to submit to the orthodox ceremony for the sake of the family.

"Then you might have given me a hint as to what was going on."

Wiggleswick a.s.sumed a shocked expression. "And disobey my master? Orders is orders, ma'am. I once wore the Queen's uniform."

Zora, sitting on the arm of a chair, half steadying herself with her umbrella, regarded the old man standing respectfully at attention before her with a smile whose quizzicality she could not restrain. The old villain drew himself up in a dignified way.

"I don't mean the government uniform, ma'am. I've had my misfortunes like anyone else. I was once in the army--in the band."

"Mr. Dix told me that you had been in the band," said Zora with all her graciousness, so as to atone for the smile. "You played that instrument in the corner."

"I did, ma'am," said Wiggleswick.

Zora looked down at the point of her umbrella on the floor. Having no reason to disbelieve Wiggleswick's circ.u.mstantial though entirely fict.i.tious story, and having by the smile put herself at a disadvantage, she felt uncomfortably routed.

"Your master never told you where he was going or how long he was likely to be away?" she asked.

"My master, ma'am," replied Wiggleswick, "never knows where he is going.

That's why he wants a wife who can tell him."

Zora rose and looked around her. Then, with a sweep of her umbrella indicating the general dustiness and untidiness of the room:

"The best thing you can do," said she, "is to have the house thoroughly cleaned and put in order. They may be back any day. I'll send in a charwoman to help you."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Wiggleswick, somewhat glumly. Although he had lied volubly to her for his own ends, he stood in awe of her commanding personality, and never dreamed of disregarding her high behests. But he had a moral disapproval of work. He could see no n.o.bility in it, having done so much enforced labour in his time.

"Do you think we need begin now, ma'am?" he asked anxiously.

"At once," said Zora. "It will take you a month to clean the place. And it will give you something to do."

She went away femininely consoled by her exercise of authority--a minor victory covering a retreat. But she still felt very angry with Septimus.

When Clem Sypher came down to Penton Court for the week-end, he treated the matter lightly.

"He knew that he was acceptable to your mother and yourself, so he has done nothing dishonorable. All he wanted was your sister and the absence of fuss. I think it sporting of him. I do, truly."

"And I think you're detestable!" cried Zora. "There's not a single man that can understand."

"What do you want me to understand?"

"I don't know," said Zora, "but you ought to understand it."

A day or two later, meeting Rattenden again, she found that he comprehended her too fully.

"What would have pleased you," said he, "would have been to play the _soeur n.o.ble_, to have gathered the young couple in your embrace, and magnanimously given them to each other, and smiled on the happiness of which you had been the bounteous dispenser. They've cheated you. They've cut your part clean out of the comedy, and you don't like it. If I'm not right will you kindly order me out of the room? Well?" he asked, after a pause, during which she hung her head.

"Oh, you can stay," she said with a half-laugh. "You're the kind of man that always bets on a certainty."

Rattenden was right. She was jealous of Emmy for having unceremoniously stolen her slave from her service--that Emmy had planned the whole conspiracy she had not the slightest doubt--and she was angry with Septimus for having been weak enough to lend himself to such duplicity. Even when he wrote her a dutiful letter from Paris--to the telegram he had merely replied, "Sorry; impossible"--full of everything save Emmy and their plans for the future, she did not forgive him. How dared he consider himself fit to travel by himself? His own servant qualified his doings as outlandish.

"They'll make a terrible mess of their honeymoon," she said to Clem Sypher.

"They'll start for Rome and find themselves in St. Petersburg."

"They'll be just as happy," said Sypher. "If I was on my honeymoon, do you think I'd care where I went?"