Happy go lucky Part 53

"Ah--Percy!" replied d.i.c.ky thoughtfully. "Yes, Tiny, old soul, that's a sound question. Well, Percy is n't exactly polished--in fact, one might almost be forgiven for describing him as a holy terror--"

"He wants losing," said Carmyle with conviction.

"But listen," pursued d.i.c.ky. "Percy may be all we say, but he cheerfully hands over half his weekly screw, which is n't a fabulous one, to the common fund of the Family. It is not every young man who would do that, especially such a social success as Percy. Oh, yes, Connie, he is a social success; so don't look incredulous. I tell you he is a regular Apollo at s.h.i.+lling hops. He took me to one a few weeks ago."

"Where?" asked Connie.

"Somewhere near Kennington Oval. The girls simply swarmed over him.

But he is not in the least stuck up about it; and--well, he is kind to Tilly. I am, therefore," concluded d.i.c.ky stoutly, "an upholder of Percy."

Mr. Carmyle, encouraged by the silence of his wife, felt emboldened to continue his cross-examination.

"What about mother-in-law?" he queried.

It was a foolish question.

"She is a woman in a thousand," said d.i.c.ky promptly, and Mrs. Carmyle, with a withering side-glance at her unfortunate lord, nodded her head vigorously in affirmation.

"Mrs. Welwyn is not what we call a lady," proceeded d.i.c.ky, "but she is the right stuff all through. I admit that she has not been quite successful in her efforts to polish Percy, but look at the others! The little sister, 'Melia, is a dear. The twins are rippers. Old Welwyn--well, he's a rotter, but he's a gentlemanly rotter; which pretty well describes the majority of my friends, now I come to think of it.

And he is no hypocrite: he is quite frank about his weaknesses. Now, to sum up. On her father's side Tilly is a lady; on her mother's side she is a brick. That's a pretty good combination. Anyhow, it's good enough for me; and if she'll have me I'm going to marry her."

d.i.c.ky concluded the unburdening of his soul with a shout and a wave of his hat, and all the sparrows flew away.

"Now," said Connie, patting the seat in a soothing fas.h.i.+on, "sit down and tell me how you are going to do it."

d.i.c.ky resumed his place beside her and said meekly:--

"I'm looking to you to tell me that, Connie."

Apparently he had made the remark that was expected of him, for Connie immediately a.s.sumed a little air of profound wisdom, and her unregenerate husband emitted an unseemly gurgle.

"Your first difficulty, of course," she said to d.i.c.ky, ignoring her wretched and ill-controlled spouse, "will be to see Tilly. After the humiliation of yesterday her only instinct will be to hide herself. She will be not-at-home to you every time you call; and of course, it is n't fair that you should hang about in the hopes of catching her outside."

"No," agreed d.i.c.ky. "Not the game."

"You have written to her, I suppose?" said Connie.

"Yes. Left a note this morning," replied d.i.c.ky, brightening up.

"Well, of course, that is no use. It will make her happier, poor little soul, but it won't change her decision. Letters never do. You've simply got to see her, d.i.c.ky! Bill, run away for a minute, there's a dear. Go and think about a cantilever, or something, over there."

Mr. Carmyle, puffing smoke, obediently withdrew to the other side of a clump of sooty rhododendrons. Connie turned eagerly to d.i.c.ky. Her face was flushed and eager, like a child's.

"d.i.c.ky," she whispered earnestly, "_see_ her! _See_ her! See her alone!

Take her in your arms and tell her that you will never, never, never let her go! She will struggle and try to break away; but hold on. Hold on tight! Go on telling her that you love her and will never leave her.

When she sees that you mean it, she will give in. I know. I'm a woman, and I know!" Connie squeezed d.i.c.ky's arm violently. "I _know_!" she repeated.... "You can come back now, Bill dear."

"Nice goings-on, I don't think," observed Mr. Carmyle severely, reappearing round the rhododendron. "Shouting all over the garden--what?"

But the two conspirators, still in the clouds together, took no notice of him. Instead, Connie rose to her feet and began to walk towards the nearest gate. The two men followed.

"Connie, how am I going to do it?" asked d.i.c.ky deferentially.

"I have a plan," replied Connie, with portentous solemnity. She was launched on an enterprise after her own heart. "Listen! Have you a portmanteau?"

"Yes, at my rooms."

"Well, go there and pack it."

"Why?" asked d.i.c.ky in a dazed voice.

Mrs. Carmyle replied by quoting a famous and oracular phrase which had lately fallen from the lips of a prominent statesman, and the party reached the railings.

"Hallo, there's a taxi at the Welwyns' door," said Carmyle. "I wonder--oh, Lord!"

He fell hastily to the rear, his knees knocking together. Two figures were ascending the steps of the house. One was majestic and purposeful; the other small and reluctant. The front door opened and closed upon them.

"My mother--already!" exclaimed d.i.c.ky in dismay.

That burned child, William Carmyle, broke into a gentle perspiration.

"Never mind," said Connie rea.s.suringly. "She was bound to come. She can't do any harm."

"Supposing she gets Tilly to agree never to see me again?" said d.i.c.ky feverishly. "Supposing she insults her with money?" He ground his teeth, and Carmyle groaned sympathetically.

Connie patted his arm soothingly.

"The last word is the only thing that matters in this case," she said with great confidence; "and you are going to have that, d.i.c.ky, my friend. Now, run away and pack your portmanteau. Then come and lunch with us at Prince's. I must fly. I have an appointment with a gentleman at Russell Square Tube Station at twelve-thirty. It is after that now."

d.i.c.ky glanced at Bill Carmyle for an explanation of this mysterious a.s.signation, but that gentleman merely shook his head in a bewildered fas.h.i.+on.

"Don't ask me, old man," he said.

"Who is the gentleman, Connie?" d.i.c.ky enquired.

"An admirer of mine," replied Mrs. Carmyle, with a gratified smile. "I met him in the train this morning."

"For the first time?"

"No--second. When I saw him I had an idea, so we arranged to meet again at twelve-thirty. He has another engagement, but he said it did n't matter when I asked him. After he has done what I want, he is coming to lunch, too. Now run and pack. Au revoir!"

Revelling in every turn of the highly complicated plot which she was weaving, little Mrs. Carmyle, followed by her inarticulate but inflated husband, pattered swiftly away round the corner--and incidentally out of this narrative--turning to wave a rea.s.suring hand to her client before disappearing.

The Freak, puzzled but confident, went home to pack his portmanteau.

CHAPTER XXV