Jane Lends A Hand Part 34

Lambert feeling that there was a conspiracy among the feminine members of the household to overcome his objections, became more than adamantine in his silence.

So matters stood one warm evening, when, notwithstanding the date the summer still lingered on, perhaps from sheer curiosity to know how the problem was going to be solved.

Jane, with a book in her lap, was sitting at her window, not reading, for the light was fading out of the sky, and she was unwilling to light her lamp, so lovely were these last twilight moments of that mild autumn day.

Presently, hearing voices in the garden, she thrust her curly head out of the window.

Elise was sitting on the green bench against the wall; in front of her stood Mr. Montgomery, who, judging from the open gate, had just made his appearance. He held his hat in his hand, but Jane, accustomed to having her attention caught by the green scarf upon it, now noticed with surprise that the green scarf had been replaced by a black one. Now, what might be the significance of that? Mr. Montgomery's tow-colored hair was slightly disordered, giving yet another reason for one's believing that he was in distress of some sort.

"Poor little man, what _can_ be the matter?" wondered Jane, and she leaned a little farther out so that she could hear some of the conversation.

"No, dear Miss Lambert-I feel that I must go," he was saying in sincerely miserable accents. "You cannot-I must not flatter myself that you _can_ feel what this parting means to me. Indeed, desiring your happiness above all things, I earnestly hope that you are untouched by _my_ wretchedness! I have come to-night to say farewell to you and your charming family for whom I could not feel a deeper affection were it my own."

"Oh, Mr. Montgomery-surely you don't mean that you are going for good?"

cried Elise.

He drew a heavy sigh. And then, letting his head droop pathetically, said,

"Miss Lambert, that must be for you to decide. And yet I cannot allow you-even though my dearest hopes were to be realized thereby-to make any decision. Miss Lambert, I think you may have guessed my feelings. How deep and sincere they are I can only prove by my readiness to disregard them. In short, dear Miss Lambert, I feel my unworthiness to aspire to the happiness-" here he swallowed his words completely so that Jane found it impossible to make out what he was saying.

"But where are you going, Mr. Montgomery?" stammered Elise, evidently on the point of tears again. Her concern and emotion affected P. Hyacinth deeply and rapidly. Taking a step closer to her, he looked into her eyes;

"Are these tears, Miss Lambert-Elise? Is it possible that my departure is not wholly indifferent to you?" he cried, casting his hat recklessly on the ground and seizing both her hands.

"Oh, Mr. Montgomery, you know-that it is not," murmured Elise, freeing one hand in order to dry her eyes.

"Then," declared Hyacinth heroically, "I shall-I shall seek an interview with your parent to-night-"

"You may have an interview immediately, if you want," announced a ba.s.s voice from the dining-room doorway.

"Jiminy!" gasped Jane, drawing herself back from the window.

The two young people started as if a cannon had exploded beside them.

Mr. Montgomery, minus at least three shades of his rosy color, drew himself up, and breathed a deep breath. His knees were quaking; yet it was not without an air of real dignity that he prepared to brave the old lion.

"Wait here, Elise. I think I had better see your father a-alone."

"Not at all," said Mr. Lambert again raising his terrifying tones, "Elise, I wish you to step in here, too."

Instinctively, Elise clung to Hyacinth's hand, and like the babes in the wood, they slowly walked into the dining room.

Mr. Lambert was seated at his desk; and the light coming in through the window shone upon his gla.s.ses so that neither of the quailing young people could quite see his eyes. There was a ferocious frown between his bristling grey eyebrows.

"Mr. Montgomery, I heard some of the remarks you were making to my daughter. I also heard you say that you wanted to see me. I am willing to listen to anything you have to say-provided that you come to the point _quickly_!" He brought out the last word so sharply that poor Hyacinth gasped as if he had been struck by a high wind.

"Yes, sir," he managed to articulate, faintly; and after this effort seemed unable to utter a sound.

"Well?" said Mr. Lambert. "Proceed."

Hyacinth squared his shoulder.

"Mr. Lambert-sir-I-er-I-"

"Do you wish to marry my daughter?"

"Yes, sir. Exactly."

"Then why don't you say so?"

"I _do_ say so, sir."

"And you wish to ask my permission?"

"Yes, sir-just so. I _do_ ask your permission."

"Well, sir," said Mr. Lambert, removing his spectacles, and polis.h.i.+ng them slowly on his handkerchief. "It is _not_ granted."

Here Elise began to weep, but disregarding her distress, Mr. Lambert continued,

"And I should advise you, sir, to keep to that very excellent plan of yours to depart, at once."

Notwithstanding the grim look around Mr. Lambert's mouth, Hyacinth held his ground heroically.

"Sir, I love your daughter. I think I have a right to ask you why you object to me as a son-in-law."

Mr. Lambert turned upon him slowly in his swivel chair, eyed him gravely from head to foot, and then said,

"Yes. Quite so. You have such a right. Very well, then,-I object to your clothes, to begin with."

"Sir," said Hyacinth, turning a deep pink, "they can be-changed."

"No doubt," said Mr. Lambert. "In the second place I object to your profession,-if you are pleased to call it such."

"You object to my being an interpreter of nature-an artist, sir?"

stammered Hyacinth. "Surely sir-however that too can be changed." And he bowed his head submissively. "In fact, sir," he added with an ingenuous expression, "I shall be quite willing to change it."

"Ah," said Mr. Lambert. "Well, my dear sir," a slightly sarcastic smile illumined his rugged features for a moment, and he rose as if he were about to finish off the matter, with his final objection, "well, my dear sir, lastly, I don't like your name. Perhaps, though" (_very_ ironically), "you can change _that_!"

Hyacinth hesitated a moment, and then said pathetically,

"Don't you really like it, sir?"

"I can hardly express my feelings about it!" cried Mr. Lambert, losing patience. "Really, my dear sir-"

"One moment, please," urged Hyacinth, "I-I _can_ change it-"

"No doubt! No doubt! Perhaps you can change your skin-indeed I should not be surprised-"

"But really, sir. Allow me to explain. I-well, it is necessary for you to know sir, that, very often, persons who embrace any line of artistic activity may desire to a.s.sume a fict.i.tious name-"