London (England) -- Fiction; Love stories; Social classes -- Fiction
Frederick Bulpert, having obtained two professional engagements at
seven shillings and sixpence each, resigned his situation in the Post
Office, and this left him free to call at Praed Street whenever he
cared to do so. Mrs. Mills described him as a hearty eater, but she
made much of him, apparently out of gratitude. Gertie had spoken to
her about Henry's letters--
"She looked rather white," said Mrs. Mills to Mr. Trew confidentially;
"but I must admit she kept her temper wonderfully well, considering!"
--And the girl took charge of the intercepted envelopes with their
contents. Her aunt declared, with emphasis, that all along she had
acted for the best. Gertie remarked that people said this whenever
they had done their worst: this was the only reproach given, and Mr.
Trew, as a candid friend, assured Mrs. Mills she had been let off very
lightly. Mr. Trew had anxieties of his own. The new motor omnibuses
still broke down occasionally, and he was able, in passing, to make
offers for the conveyances at an extremely low figure; but many of them
ran without accident, and ran speedily, and he was losing customers
hitherto considered faithful and regular. Summing up, he came to the
conclusion that the world was becoming a jolly sight too clever; the
only comfort he found was that it could not possibly exist much longer.
Regaining cheerfulness, he mentioned that if Mrs. Mills happened to
hear of an American heiress who wanted a good-looking English husband
with a special and particular knowledge of horses, well acquainted with
London, and fond of the sea, why, it would be kind of her to drop him a
postcard, giving the name and address.
"When you've finished talking nonsense," she said, "perhaps you'll
kindly tell me how I'm to manage in order to get these two young people
married. She'll be happy enough, once she settles down; but,
meanwhile, I don't like seeing her so quiet and thoughtful."
"I have never denied," he remarked, "that you are the prize packet of
your sex, and in many respects you've got almost the intelligence of a
man. But in a matter of this kind--remember, she's as pretty as they
make 'em--you're a born muddler. Leave it to me, and I'll do the best
I can for you."
Wherefore, Mr. Trew made appointments with Bulpert and held secret
discussions with him, sheltering his words with a broad, big hand,
enjoying greatly the sense of management, and, even more, the
atmosphere of conspiracy. Bulpert, on his side, began to realize his
importance, and treated Praed Street with a condescension that was
meant to represent a correct and proper pride. One evening, seated at
the counter there, and waiting for the return of Gertie, he gave a
formal warning to the effect that any cigar presented to him was, in
future, to be taken from the threepenny box.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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