“Oh, I don’t think I should care to go on a mission of that sort, Mr. Hope. If Mr. Sartwell were to find out that I——”
“My dear fellow,” interrupted Barney, placing his hand confidentially on Marsten’s shoulder, “it’s all right, I assure you. There is really nothing surreptitious about it. Heavens and earth, Langton, you don’t think I’m that kind of a man, I trust! Oh, no! I’ve the parental consent all right enough.”
“Then why don’t you go to the school and see her?”
“Because, dear boy, the case is just a trifle complicated, don’t you know. I can always get the parental consent; that’s the money, you know. As a general thing the girls like me, and I won’t say the money has all to do with that: no, I flatter myself, personal attractions, a fair amount of brains, and a certain artistic reputation come in there; but money tells with the older people. Now Sartwell and I understand each other. Not to put too fine a point upon it, you know, he says practically: ‘Barney, you’re an ass, but you’re rich, and I don’t suppose you’re a bigger fool than the average young man of the present day, so I give you a fair field; go in, my boy, and win.’ I say to Sartwell: ‘You’re a grumpy old curmudgeon, with no more artistic perception than the Shot Tower; but your daughter is an angel, and I’ve got money enough for the two of us.’ You see, I never did care for money except to get what I want. So there we stand. Sart-well was coming down here with me; but, after I started, he telegraphed to my studio that there was so much to do in the shops, with all the men newly back, that he would like me to postpone my visit for a week. Well, I had to get the horses and trap down here; so I drove, and I left London a day earlier than I expected to. Hence the present complication. I called at the school, asked to see Miss Sartwell, saying I was a friend of her father’s; but the lady in charge looked on me with suspicion,—she did indeed, my boy, difficult to believe as the statement is. The lady said she could not allow Miss Sartwell to see any person unless that person was accompanied by her father. She would take no message to the girl—and there I was. I wrote to Miss Sartwell from my hotel here, but the letter was opened by the dragon, who returned it to me, asking me not to attempt to communicate with any of the young ladies under her charge. So here is this stylish tandem, and there is that lovely girl, while I am wasting in the desert air, longing to take her out for a drive. That’s the situation in a nut shell, don’t you know, and I want you to help me by taking a message to Miss Edna.”
“I don’t see how I can do it. If you, with her father’s permission, could not get a word with her, how can I hope to?”
“Oh, I have that all arranged. I thought first of getting some young man in as a carpenter or plumber; but, so far as I can learn, the pipes and the woodwork of the school are all right. Then an inspiration came to me,—‘I am subject to inspirations. The man who looks after the garden lives in the town, and he is quite willing to assist me; in fact I have made it worth his while, don’t you know. The trouble is that all his assistants are rather clodhoppers, and would be sure to bungle a diplomatic affair like this; however, I was going to chance it with one to-morrow when I saw you, and said to myself: ‘Here is the very man!’ When Providence sends the right man I always recognize him. That is the whole secret of a successful life, don’t you know,—to be able to recognize the gifts Providence sends at the moment they are sent. Where most people go wrong, don’t you know, is by not appreciating the providential interposition until afterwards. You will put on a gardener’s smock, take a clumsy and unwieldy broom in your hand, and go to High Cliff School to sweep the walks, and that sort of thing, don’t you know. Then, as the girls are walking about, seize the psychological moment and tell Miss Edna I am waiting down here with the tandem. The young ladies are allowed to walk out three at a time. Two of them can sit back to back with us, and Edna will sit with me. Tell her to choose two friends whom she can trust, and we will all go for a jolly drive together. If she hesitates, tell her I am down here with her father’s permission, but don’t say that unless as a last resort. I would much rather have her come of her own accord, don’t you know.”
“What I fail to understand about your plan is why—if you really have Mr. Sartwell’s permission,—no, no, I’m not doubting your word,—I should have put it, as you have her father’s permission,—why do you not telegraph him, saying you are here, and get him to send a wire to the mistress of the school, asking her to allow Miss Sartwell to go with you for a drive, with a proper chaperon, of course?”
“My dear Langton——”
“Marsten, if you please.”
“Oh, yes, of course. My dear Marsten, what you suggest is delightfully simple, and is precisely what would present itself to the well-regulated mind, It would be the sane thing to do and would be so charmingly proper. But you see, Marsten, my boy, I understand a thing or two about women, which you may not yet have had experience enough to learn. I don’t want too much parental sanction about this affair, because a young girl delights in an innocent little escapade on her own account,—don’t you see what I mean? Of course, if the villain of the piece is baffled, he will ultimately appeal to the proper authority; but you know I have already seen a good deal of the young lady under the parental wing—if I may so state the fact; and although she is pleasant enough and all that, I don’t seem to be making as much progress with her as I would like, don’t you know. Now a little flavour of—well, you understand what I mean—thingumbob—you know—romance, and that sort of thing—is worth all the cut-and-dried ‘Bless-you-my-children’ in the market. You’ll know all about that, as you grow older, my boy.”