Her aunt is not precisely patrician in her manner, which would be totally out of place in a Fancy Wool Repository—but, after all, I shall not have to go through any experiences like poor D'Alroy's. And I am sure my uncle's heart will warm to Louise at once. Why hesitate, then? I will not.
I have taken the plunge—Louise has consented. She tells me that she was won by my appearance in the Professor's chair, and still more by the character he gave me. How our choicest blessings masquerade! Drama, for the moment, in the background—but only apparently so. Literature has no stimulus like love, and I am constantly talking the play over with Louise. She has made one suggestion that convinces me she has a keen sense of dramatic effect—a hornpipe in one of the Acts. I am to read her the first Scene, as soon as it is put into shape.
Her brother "Alf" is expected down to-night. Louise is certain we shall "take to one another," he has "such spirits," and is "quite a cure." Always thought a "cure" was a kind of jumping clown—but Alf is a clerk in a leading establishment, somewhere in Marylebone—a steady, industrious young fellow, no doubt. However, I shall meet him to-morrow.
I have met Alf. Although I love Louise with the first real passion of a lifetime, I cannot disguise from myself that her brother is an unmitigated Blazer. I would almost rather that he did not take to me—but he does. In half an hour he is addressing me as "Old gooseberry-pudden." If he is going to do this often, I shall have to hint that I do not like it.
I have been strolling with him on the sands, where he has already found several of his acquaintance. He will introduce me to all of them. Hearty, high-spirited fellows, full of rough but genuine British humour. From the manner in which they all inquire "How my bumps are getting on," I infer they were amongst Professor Skittles' audience the other day. But they mean to be friendly enough—I must not let them see how they annoy me.... It is absurd to be stiff at Starmouth.
THE TYMPANUM.
(A Remonstrance at a Railway Station.)
The tympanum! The tympanum!
Oh! who will save the aural drum