Adventure stories; City and town life -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction
The thing was accomplished! That greeting was like a masonic
initiation, and henceforward he was the peer of no matter whom. At
first he had thought that four hundred eyes would be fastened on him,
their glance saying: "This youth is wearing a dress-suit for the first
time, and it is not paid for, either." But it was not so. And the
reason was that the entire population of the Town Hall was heartily
engaged in pretending that never in its life had it been seen after
seven o’clock of a night apart from a dress-suit. Denry observed with
joy that, while numerous middle-aged and awkward men wore red or white
silk handkerchiefs in their waistcoats, such people as Charles Fearns,
the Sweetnams, and Harold Etches did not. He was, then, in the shyness
of his handkerchief, on the side of the angels.
He passed up the double staircase (decorated with white or pale frocks
of unparalleled richness) and so into the grand hall. A scarlet
orchestra was on the platform, and many people strolled about the floor
in attitudes of expectation. The walls were festooned with flowers. The
thrill of being magnificent seized him, and he was drenched in a vast
desire to be truly magnificent himself. He dreamt of magnificence,
boot-brushes kept sticking out of this dream like black mud out of snow.
In his reverie he looked about for Ruth Earp, but she was invisible.
Then he went down-stairs again, idly; gorgeously feigning that he spent
six evenings a week in ascending and descending monumental staircases,
appropriately clad. He was determined to be as sublime as any one.
There was a stir in the corridor, and the sublimest consented to be
excited.
The Countess was announced to be imminent. Everybody was grouped round
the main portal, careless of temperatures. Six times was the Countess
announced to be imminent before she actually appeared, expanding from
the narrow gloom of her black carriage like a magic vision. Aldermen
received her, and they did not do it with any excess of gracefulness.
They seemed afraid of her, as though she was recovering from influenza
and they feared to catch it. She had precisely the same high voice, and
precisely the same efficient smile as she had employed to Denry, and
these instruments worked marvels on Aldermen; they were as melting as
salt on snow. The Countess disappeared up-stairs in a cloud of shrill
apologies and trailing Aldermen. She seemed to have greeted everybody
except Denry. Somehow he was relieved that she had not drawn attention
to him. He lingered, hesitating, and then he saw a being in a long
yellow overcoat, with a bit of peacock’s feather at the summit of a
shiny high hat. This being held a lady’s fur mantle. Their eyes met.
Denry had to decide instantly. He decided.
"Hello, Jock!" he said.
"Hello, Denry!" said the other, pleased.
"What’s been happening?" Denry enquired, friendly.
Then Jock told him about the antics of one of the Countess’s horses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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