CHAPTER II
[THE SECOND WOOER]
A very different visitor this to the first. A tall, stalwart fellow, with a guardsman's chest, a long fair beard which hid his neck, and a huge pair of the most ridiculous moustaches. No bandbox fellow he! Dressed in a shooting suit, crowned by a soft, deer-stalker's hat, flourishing what was a bludgeon rather than a stick in his hand, he seemed hardly the type of figure which is generally to be found in the neighbourhood of Capel Court.
"Hallo, Ash, tracked you down, old man."
His voice was like himself: there was plenty of it. It should have been worth a fortune to him on the Stock Exchange.
"Summers! Whatever brings you here?"
"What doesn't often bring a man to the City--love, and my lady's eyes."
"What!"
Mr. Ash fairly sprang out of his chair. He stared at his visitor with bewildered surprise.
"You may well stare, and stare your fill. I'm worth staring at to-day, for I just don't feel as though I know whether I'm standing on my head or heels. The greatest stroke of luck has happened to me that ever happened to a man before--I've sold my picture for a thousand pounds."
"You've done what?"
"Ah, I knew you wouldn't believe it. It does sound incredible, doesn't it? But it is a fact, though, all the same. I've sold my New Gallery picture, 'A Dream of Love: an Idyll, by William Summers,' for a thousand pounds."
"And have you come all the way to Draper's Gardens to tell me so? It's very good of you, I'm sure.
"It would be good of me if that was all, but it's not; there happens to be more. What does that sale mean? It means that I've made a hit--that I've got a commission for another at the same price--that my fortune is made. I'm a man of fortune, sir."
"I assure you I am very glad to hear it; but I hope you will excuse my mentioning that I still have my fortune to make, and that this is the busiest hour of the day."
"All right, wait half a jiffy, man. Keep yourself in hand, for upon my soul I can't. What does my being a man of fortune mean? It means that I have become a marrying man--a man who has a right to marry. So I'm going to marry."
"I congratulate you with all my heart. Do I know the lady?"
"Well, rather, considering that she's your ward."
"What!"
"Miss Truscott's going to be my wife. I thought I would just drop in and let you know."
"Drop in and let me know! If this isn't the coolest proceeding I ever heard of in my life!"
The amazed Mr. Ash stared at his visitor, who seemed, so to speak, to be laughing all over his face. Then he dropped into his chair, and stared at the addressed letter which lay upon his desk. He appeared to be conscious of a certain confusion of mind.
"Good gad!" he told himself; "just now I was wishing that some one would come along and marry her. This is a case of one's wishes being too plentifully granted. It strikes me there's one too many."
Then he addressed himself to his visitor aloud--
"Really, Mr. Summers, I fail to understand you."
"It's plain enough."
"It may be plain enough to you. You must allow me to say that it is anything but plain enough to me. May I ask when you made what I must call this surreptitious request to my ward for her hand?"
"Oh, that's just the point. I haven't spoken to her yet."
"You haven't spoken to her yet! I understood you to say that she was going to marry you?"
"That's right enough--so she is."
"This may be plain enough to you, but it is really getting still less plain to me. You evidently think that her guardian's consent is not required. May I ask if you think that the lady's is unnecessary too?"
"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy--I see that plainly, Ash! Don't you know that there is a language more eloquent than speech? That it is possible for a man and woman to understand each other perfectly and yet not interchange a word? We understand each other like that, my friend."
"I should be sorry to say anything which might lessen your self-conceit, but I think you are mistaken, Mr. Summers."
"Oh, no, I'm not."
"But I say you are! Hang it, sir, I never saw a more 'Came, saw, and conquered' style about a man before. If I were you, I would wait for victory to forward your despatch. As it is, I happen to know that Miss Truscott is engaged already."
So saying, Mr. Ash slipped his letter into the inner pocket of his coat.
"What!"
"For goodness' sake, Mr. Summers, don't shout the ceiling down! You will have the people coming in from the street, not to speak of the clerks outside."
"If I didn't know that you meant it for a jest, I should say it was a lie."
"You may say exactly what you please, it won't alter the fact."
"The fact! You call that a fact! I'll go down to Shanklin by the next train, and learn the truth from her own lips."
Mr. Summers made for the door, but Mr. Ash interposed; he was conscious that it would be advisable to induce this impetuous suitor to hasten slowly.
"One moment, Mr. Summers. I am sure you would be unwilling to do another an injury, even unconsciously. If you will restrain your impatience I will endeavour to explain to you exactly how the matter lies."
"How the matter lies? That's just what it does do--it lies! Or some one does, at any rate."
"Mr. Summers, you are a man of honour--we are both men of honour, I trust. Would you have me break my plighted word?"
"Break your plighted word? That depends. If you've plighted your word to break my heart, by George! I'd have you break it, then!"
"Let me remove this matter from the realms of romance into the regions of common sense."
"When you City men begin to talk about common sense you mean something very common indeed."
"Mr. Summers, this is a very solemn subject to me."
"Solemn subject to you! I wonder what sort of subject you think it is to me. Is she going to be my wife or yours?"
"Miss Truscott will be the wife of neither."
"Won't she? By George, we'll see!"
Again Mr. Summers made helter-skelter for the door. Again Mr. Ash made haste to interpose.
"If you will permit me to speak half a dozen consecutive words without interruption, I will make it plain to you that what I have at heart is the interest of all concerned."
"Except me! Never mind, I'll listen. Out with your half a dozen words."
Mr. Summers dropped into a chair in a way which must have been a severe test of its solidity, and brought his bludgeon down upon the floor with a bang. Mr. Ash started. He felt that this was a sort of suitor he had not bargained for.
"The case in a nutshell is simply this. Just before you came there was a gentleman here who made exactly the same proposal you have done. He, too, solicited the honour of Miss Truscott's hand."
Mr. Summers was up like a rocket. Again his bludgeon came down with a bang.
"The devil there was! Confound his impudence! What was the scoundrel's name?"
"The scoundrel's name is immaterial. The point is that I agreed that he should go down to Shanklin to-morrow, and, in proper form, make to the lady the offer of his hand."
"To-morrow, did you? Then I am off tonight."
"Still one moment, Mr. Summers, if you please. You appeared to be so certain of the lady's affection that I was scarcely prepared to find you so alarmed at the prospect of a rival in the field."
"Alarmed! Not I! I will back my darling's truth against the world!"
"Then supposing, instead of confining yourself to words, you prove your faith by deeds. Let this man try his luck to-morrow. If he fails, there is the next day left for you.
"Look here, Ash; when he's failed, will you consent to Lily being mine?"
"If he fails and Miss Truscott gives her consent, then I will."
"Then it's agreed! To-morrow, the beggar shall have his chance! The day after, I'll try mine."
Just then the door opened and Mr. Ely appeared. Mr. Summers rushed to him with outstretched hand.
"Hallo, Ely, haven't seen you for an age! You're looking queer! You ought to try a change of air."
"Think so? To-morrow I'm going out of town."
"Are you? That's odd! The day after I'm going too."
These remarks were exchanged while the two gentlemen shook hands.