Corporal Sam and Other StoriesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
General
Corporal Sam and Other Stories
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Short stories, English
'But, of course, I've known you for ever so long, really,' she went
on, and nodded again as if to reassure him.
'Oh! "of course," is it? I--I say, won't you sit down and have a
nut or two--or a fig?'
'Thank you.' She gave him quite a grown-up bow, and seated herself.
'I'll take a fig; nuts give you the indigestion at this time of
night.' She picked up a fig demurely, and laid it on a plate he
pushed towards her. 'I hope I'm behaving nicely?' she said, looking
up at him with the most engaging candour; 'because Aunt Louisa says
you always had the most beautiful manners. In fact, that's what made
her take to you, long--oh! ever so long--before you became famous.
And now you're the Bayard of India!'
'But, excuse me--'
She had begun to munch her fig, but interrupted him with another nod.
'Yes, I know what you are going to say. That's the name they give to
another general out in India, don't they? But Aunt Louisa declares
he won't hold a candle to you--though I don't know why he should want
to do anything of the sort.'
'It's uncommonly kind of your Aunt Louisa--' he began again.
'Do you know her?' the child asked, with disconcerting directness.
'That's just the trouble with me' Colonel Baigent confessed.
'She is my great-aunt, really. She lives in Little Swithun, right
at the back of Dean's Close; and her name is on a brass plate--a
very hard name to pronounce, "Miss Lapenotiere, Dancing and
Calisthenics"--that's another hard word, but it means things you do
with an elastic band to improve your figure. The plate doesn't
azackly tell the truth, because she has been an invalid for years
now, and Aunt Netta--that's my other aunt--had to carry on the
business. But everybody knows about it, so there really is no
deceit. Aunt Netta's name is Wallas, and so is mine. Her mother was
sister to Aunt Louisa, and she tells us we come of very good family.
She never married. I don't believe she ever wanted to marry anybody
but you, and now it's too late. But I call it splendid, your turning
up like this. And on Christmas Eve, to!'
'It's beginning to be splendid,' owned the colonel, who had partly
recovered himself. 'Unhappily--since you put it so--it is, I fear, a
fact that I never met your Aunt Louisa.'
'Oh! but you did--in the street, and once in the post office, when
you were a boy at the college.'
'Such impressions are fleeting, my dear, as you will live to prove.
Your other aunt, Miss Netta--'
'Oh! she will have been born after your time,' said the child, with
calm, unconscious cruelty. 'But you will see her presently. She has
gone to the bar to pay the bill, and when she has finished disputing
it she is bound to call for me.'
As if it had been waiting to confirm the prophecy, a voice called,
'Charis! Charis!' almost on the instant.
'That's my name,' said the child, helping herself to another fig, as
a middle-aged face, wrinkled, with a complexion of parchment under a
mass of tow-coloured hair, peered in at the doorway.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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