A CRUSTY OLD BACHELOR.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2614, 13 April 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

A CRUSTY OLD BACHELOR.

In Two Cii a γ-ters γ-y MRS W. RA.TTRAY. lam a crusty old bachelor. You will be sure to find that out for yourselves before you have read much of the veracious little history, so I tell you the fact to start with, for fear I might seem to be posing as something better. I have a couple of very comfortable little rooms in the best part of London. I shall not tell you exactly where they are located, gentle reader, for fear you will immediately think of your pet society for some stuff or another anil send me a begging letter forthwith. Now, though I am a crusty old bachelor, I have one weakness, I hate saying "No." It was this fearful weakness which led me to say " Yes," when Tomlyns asked me to stand sponsor to his child. Tomlyns used to live with me in his old, happy days of freedom. (How the poor deluded man must wish

himself back !) We had each a private den, and shared the sitting-room. What glorious smokes and yarns we used to have over the fire, when we found it was too raw, too foggy, or what not, to go out that evening ! Oh woman! fatal temptress ! ensnaring deceiver ! you have indeed much to answer for ! Poor old Tomlyns ! Never breathed there a nicer fellow, a better hand at whist, or a more delightful recontew of those fascinating yarns we men keep to ourselves. Ah me ! and for the sake of a pretty face, a little doll of a figure—a striped, insipid, vapid female, he gave up everything his soul had before delighted in ! And it was in such a romantic way, too, that he met his fate ! And he, of all men, is so practical ! It was an exceptionally disagreeable foggy afternoon, even for London, and neither Tomlyns nor I intended to go out. We had lighted our pipes after lunch, and were enjoying the cosy fire, especially cosy when contrasted with the discomfort reigning outside, and Tomlyns had just told an exceptionally good story, when the little smut, who waited on us—much against our wish— when her mother was busy, opened the door and handed Tomlyns a telegram. It was from the city, and concerned a business speculation into which

he had just entered. His immediate presence was requested, and Tomlyns at once prepared to obey the summons. With a sigh of pity for the poor man, I watched him depart on his unpleasant journey, and, turning again to the fire, sought companionship in the pages of a new magazine. The story was a good one, and I forgot all about Tomlyne, until he suddenly burst into the room in a great state of excitement. "My dear Smith," he gasped out, "I've had such an adventure." I surveyed him with a look of great disapproval. At least, that's what I felt, and I suppose my feelings expressed themselves in my face, for he said, "Beg your pardon, old fellow ! I really forgot," and he left the room. I turned again to my story.quitesatisfied with the effect I had produced, without having had recourse to the unpleasant and cutting remarks a woman would have indulged in under similar circumstances. For it has always been a rule with us that we should behave towards each other with as much courtesy as if we had met for the first time that day, that we should never enter our sittingroom with a hat on, or with muddy boots; in fact, not comport ourselves, as Tomlyns said, like a couple of rude school boys, so that when, for the first

time I really believe this rule was broken through, I felt it my duty at once to rebuke the offender. In an incredibly short time Tomlyns re-appeared, and to make up for having had to speak—no I didn't speak—to look at him in a particularly stern tone of voice (if I may use such a very curious expression), I said cordially, " Well, old fellow, what is it ?" Tomlyns did not require asking twice. '' She's lovely," he burst forth impetuously ; " such glorious eyes ! such an exquisitely-shaped head, and oh ! such an ankle !" Thi3 was really alarming, but I at once rose to the occasion. "Calm yourself, Tomlyns," I said in as repressive a manner as possible. "Do be calm and tell me ; have you been reading a yellow-backed novel ? The tales in most of the monthlies are quite as sensational, I admit, but it looks so much better to be seen " Here Tomlyns, usually the pink of of good breeding, did a very rude thing; lie sharply interrupted me with, "Nothing of the kind, I assure you! Thank Heaven she's real flesh and blood ; such a little darling, and oh ! such a smile !" He was so excited he began striding rapidly about the room. I was greatly disturbed. I had guarded my poor friend so carefully hitherto from all insidious attacks of the other ncx, with him to p.irtiosand balls, when, .sometimes I would rather have liran at home. Aud nw— jii a d iy, too—when all ruspectal-ilo peop.e would b<! Nt home— ladies, of eoursp, 1 mean pirlii:ulirly—h« had f.illcn a victim to soon: siren ! Ah ! happy thought ! perhaps only a fo,»nyiruh after all!

But Tomlyii3 still continued raving about this " lovely witching sprite," &<:.,

and I saw I must let him tell me all about it, before I could hope to get him to listen to any good advice. " Sit down, Tomlyns," I said, "and let me hear how you got ou in the fog at the city. Tomlyns sat down. " I'll talk about her first," he said. " Oh, Smith ! you never saw such a creature in your life. But I'll try to tell you all in a business-like way. To beotin at the beginning—oh ! Smith, she has limpid brown eyes ! Well, I managed to find my wiiy to a cabstand, and told the man to drive me to the city. He did, somehow, get there. I really forget how. I finished my business with Batts and Cole all right—l'll explain that part when I've told you all about her. Oh ! Smith, she's tho divinest little girl!"— Here a pause, as if he expected some words of sympathy, so I remarked :

" Indeed !" I was very much disappointed in Tomlyns. I could not understand how even the sight of the " divinest little girl " in the world should throw his mind off its balance in this extraordinary way.

A horrid idea occurred to me ! Had he suddenly gone mad ? I glanced cautiously at him, but he caught my look, aud burst out laughing. " Poor old Smith, 1 really believe you think I am demented. Now don't you !"

I candidly confessed he had given me grave grounds for apprehension on that score, fie laughed again. " Make yourself quite easy ! I'm head-over-ears in love. That's all !"

Tomlyns head-over-ears in love ! Good gracious, what will happen next, I wonder ?

" Explain yourself," I said severely. Tomlyns had the grace to look a little bit ashamed of himself.

" Don't be crusty, Smith, and I will explain everything : You see, it was just this way. Coming back, close to Waterloo Square, cabby got down and said his horse was dead lame, and he could take me no further. The fog was awfully thick just then, and you could not see a foot before you. I had to get out, of courae, and could not find another vehicle anywhere. I got on the footpath and groped along till I tumbled over a stooping figure. A shriek told me it was a woman, and I picked myself up and lifted her out of the gutter, where I had actually rolled her. Oh! Smith, she was the prettiest, sweetest little darling you ever saw! I begged her pardon over and over again, and oh ! Smith, she has the most musical voice you ever heard. She said it was her fault; she had dropped her muff, and was feeling for it on the pavement, wheu I walked right into her. The fog lifted a bit then, and we found the muff. ,.

"But, my dear Tomlyns," I urged, "what was a decent girl doing there by herself on an afternoon like this ?"

"I am just coining to that part," hs answered, impatiently.

He was actually so infatuated he could not beir this girl to be blamed even for a moment.

" She is a stranger," he went on, "a stranger iu London, I mean. She lives in a small village in Sussex, and came up to town two days ago with her father, Colonel Weston. It seems he went out after lunch, saying he had particular business, and would be back in an hour. That was about half past one, she says. By three o'clock he had not returned ; by four she was so dreadfully anxious she actually put on her things and went out herself to look for him." " What a ridiculous idea," I murmured. " What a self-sacrificing, noble instance of filial devotion," exclaimed my infatuated friend. " Well," I said coldly, " did you believe that most improbable story ?" Tomlyus got angry. "Look here, Smith," he cried, " I won't hear one word against Miss Weston. You are so disgustingly prejudiced, there's no making you listen to reason. What motive could she have had for telling me what was not true ?" I glanced at Tomlyns ; he was about the middle height, good-looking, with a sort of open, honest expression in his face, which, I could quite fancy, might prove very attractive to some women. He did not wait for my answer, but went on triumphantly. " Well, it's quite true, for I saw her to her lodgings, and just at the door, we met her father, who was in a terrible state of anxiety. He had lost his wny, and, after various adventures, had been taken home by a policeman going in that direction. Finding his daughter not there, he had rushed out to search for her " " Did all this explanation take place in the street?" I asked. "Of course not," replied Tomlyns. " They invited me to come in, which I did, as—well,.l wanted—in fact I was anxious to hear all about them." We were both silent a moment; then Tomlyns again broke forth. " Oh ! Smith, it's the prettiest sight in the world, to see a beautiful girl pouring out afternoon tea !"

" Did they give you that poison ?'' I asked.

"Poison! it's most delicious. I really think we must start the practise ourselves,"

"But we have no boautiful girls to pour out for us," I said.

" Too true !" assented Tomlyns ; and I wished I had not made that remark. I really believe it was that foolish little speech of mine that first set him thinking how nice it would be to have a feminine hand manipulating the teapot at his own table. With that idea he went to sleep, and I could trace it still working in his mind as he sighed at breakfast.

" How awkwardly a man manages these things .'" and he actually contrived to kuook a cup of coffee on to the floor— a thing, I believe, he had never done previously.

0 you women ! what have you not to answer for !

All morning he was restless, and, in the afternoon, proposed a visit to Covent Garden. Anxious to keep him. out of further mischief, if possible, I consented.

The fog had cleared considerably, and, though not particularly pleasant, the day was tolerably line. Wo soon made our way to the abode of lovely flowers ; and then I discovered what Tomlyns wanted. Me actually spent a couple of guineas on a small bouquet, though I told him all the flowers were mounted on wire, and would not last a day in our small sittingroom.

When we were in the street again (the bouquet was well shrouded .in paper, though I could not think why Tomlyns did not have it sent home, instead of making himself ridiculous carrying flowers about town) this unfortunate man said •

"I want to see a friend in York' street ; come alonjr, will you ?"

I said, "all right," it was partly on our way home. We g-ot a bus, and then walked up to York-street. I could not. imagine who my friend knew in this quarter. Wo stopped nt. a door about linlf-way down the Ktroi t, and !>■,■ knocked, I fniLuied rathur nurvo isly. Turuinif quickly roiiud to in ', 1.0 remarked : '■I ibouirht ir, was o dy courtnous to (jail and ink Imw Mi.s.s Wjvton is after her iiocidedt yesterday." "But" 1 (xclainvd wiiinly, only I was interrupted by tho door opening , ,

aud it gentleman prepared to step into i the street. " ITow do you do, Colonel Weston ?'' said Tomlyns. Tho Colonel stared for a second and then grasped his hand heartily. " Why, of course, it's the gontleman who rescued my daughter yesterday ! Come in Sir. I am delighted to see you." Tomlyna introduced rae, and we all went inside. In the parlour we found Miss Weston, Divested of all the absurd epithets lavished on her by that half-mad Tomlyns, intoxicated, as it were, by his first lovedraught, she was a small, fair little creature, rather pretty, rather stupid. Her eyes were grey, not brown, indeed I think, on reflection, they were dark grey, with a dash of yellow in them, like a cat's somewhat. (If Tomlyns ever sees this he will turn my blue eyes into black ones). I addressed a few common-place remarks to the lady, and then gave my attention exclusively to the Colonel. My reason for doing so was that I guessed that a little of that insipidity would disgust even Tomlyns, and so I left them to converse (chatter, I mean) a female of that sort could not, for the life of her, attempt any sort of conversation. Tho Colonel whs a retired Indian officer, I found, who had only just come to enjoy the society of his two children, this β-irl and a young man, some two or three years her senior. Hie wife, I gathered, had been dead some years.

I was disagreeably reminded of Miss Weston's presence, after about balf-an-hour's pleasant talk with her father, by hearing the question : "Do you take sugar in your tea, Mr Smith ?" How I hate afternoon tea. I think it is a medical institution to injure peoples' digestion, so I replied that I did not take tea, either with or without saccharine matter. Shelooked astonished and said : " Not take tea ? how very peculiar!" I was rather annoyed, for I do strive to be free from any little eccentricities of conduct which we supposed to characterise a bachelor. I was still vexed at the absurd remark I overheard Tomlyns make. " I should be only too delighted to drink a gallon of tea if you gave it to me." We left soon afterwards, and, directly we were outside, that idiotic Tomlyns again broke into praises of the very insignificant young lady we had just seen. I really could not stand his nonsense, and requested him to choose a different topic of conversation. He declared I was jealous. This was certainly too much, and I said I should prefer to walk home by myself. Tomlyns is really very good-tempered, and the next day he was, apparently, just his own self until the afternoon. Then he grew restless again, and finally asked me if I would go with him to the Westons, as he had promised to show them a little of London.

" You can walk with the Colonel, you know," he added, rather consciously. I hate saying " No," and we four trotted about sightseeing till I was tired out and very glad to sit down in Westminister Abbey with the Colonel, whilst the two younger ones inspected all the monuments.

This sort of thing went on for a week, till the Westons returned to their little place in Sussex, They cordially invited us down for Christmas, now close at hand ; and I heard Tomlyns accept " with great pleasure " for both of us. I pitched into him afterwards, saying he might have let me answer for myself, as I was of age and needed no sponsor. All he said was,

"My dear old fellow, of course you would have said " Yes." I never heard you venture on a refusal yet." So we went dowu to Uckstone, and it would not have been such bad fun, if everybody had not conspired to mate me with a Miss Comford. If we went skating, ic always fell to my lot to fasten Miss Comford's skates. If we walked out, and I attached myself to the Colonel or some safe married lady, somehow, before we returned home, I found myself walking with Miss Comfoi'd. I fancy she was not half a bad girl, only it is excessively annoying to have any person's society thrust upon one, nolens volens. I gave the girl no encouragement whatsoever, and I really believe she persisted in her attentions to me only because, having once begun them, she did not like to leave off. New Year's Day was fast approaching, and I was nearly driven wild by overhearing some one remark, " Well next year is leap year, and then Miss Comford can propose to Mr Smith, and I expeccshe won't lose auy time over it, either !" That very clay I had, luckily, a telegram from town. I may as well own up at once. I told a downright untruth about its contents, I said that urgent business called me away at once. I left Tomlyns to make excuses and fled by the next train. (To be continued.)