A CRUSTY OLD BACHELOR.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2617, 20 April 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

A CRUSTY OLD BACHELOR.

Is Two Chapters EY MRS W. RATTRAY. CHAPTER 11. I heard nothing from poor Tomlyns until one evening he walked quietly into our sitting-room. " How do, old fellow ?" he Slid. " I'vo come for your blessing and congratulations." " Are you—that is—have you—l mean, are yon going to marry Miss Weston ? " I stammered, " Of course I am ! " he said joyously. "Didn't you get my letter? nor my tolegram '( No ? Ah ! Well ! Perhaps, after all, I forgot to send them! You nee it was all so delightful, and Lily is such a darling, I really didn't know half the time what, I was doing ! " "Did you know what you were doing when you proposed to Miss Weston 'i " I inquired, hoping, even at the eleventh hour, to bring him to hear reason. Hitherto all my protestations bad been utterly disregarded, my arguments laughed at, my entreaties scorned. If only he would listen now, and free himself from this fatal chain of love ! "To tell the truth," he answered, " I don't know exactly what I did say, but this was how it happened." "Spare me!" I gasped. "Of all things, wooing and proposing are the least interesting topics, except, I suppose, to tho deluded two engaged in those occupations." "You cynic!" laughed he gaily. " Wait until i/our turn comes." Ho seemed so overflowing with animal spirits that I forgave him tho insult, though I could not at once forget it. " Wo are to bo married in three months," he rattled on. " You must be my best man. Lily seemed quite pleased when I said, of course I must have my oldest friend in that capacity." Again that fatal weakness of mine prevented my saying "No," But I resolved I would not be in England when my dear friend made an ass of himself by slippiug his head into the matrimonial noose. I made my plan quietly ; I need not leave England until the end of February, and when I would go away, and write to Tomlyns, saying, I was not well, and wanted a change. But alas for my plans ! The Colonel was thrown from his horse early in February, and Tomlyns was sumnioued by au urgent telegram. He entreated mo to go down with him, and, of course, I could not refuse such a request. We found the whole house upset, servants running aimlessly hither ami thither ; a couple of medical men ; one lawyer and one clergyman in attendance. The poor old Colonel had received his death blow, they said. As soon as he had recovered consciousness, he had asked for Tomlyns, and, on his arrival, said that he wished the marriage ceremony between him and Miss Weston performed immediately. The doctors thought he had better wait till the next morning, Meantime a celebrated London surgeon was telegraphed for, one of the medical men present being a somewhat ancient village practitioner, and the other a visitor at a neighbouring house. It was a very sad wedding the next day. The poor little bride was wrapped in a vale of tears the whole time ; and I don't think she even looked to see if 6he got married to the right man. The settlements ware duly signed awl witnessed, and then the Colonel was left to die in peace. But, strange to say, he was not dead tho next morning, as we had been told he probably would be. He gradually recovered his health and strength, or rather, ho regained a portion of his former vigour, and crowed a little over tho doctors, I fancy. After saying I intended leaving England for a trip, I had to keep my word, or Tomlyns might have suspected I had been guilty of a base attempt to escape being present at his wedding. I visited various places on the Continent, and returned to town a couple of days before Christmas. I went at once to our old rooms, and the lady told me Tomlyns had been in tc see me not five minutes before I arrived.

" However," she contiaued, " I up and says to him, says I, he'il bo here afore, five, says I, unless them Frenches has eat him, says 1." Just as I was sitting down to dinner, Tomlyns appeared. I was really glad to see him, and ordered another plate at once. "Excuse me, Smith," he said. "I can't stay ; must run for my train as it is, but you will just come down for the christening, won't you, there's a good fellow. It's to be ou the 28th, and you will be godfather, won't you? Thanks ho much ! Must be off now. Come down at once if you like. No ? Well, come ou tho 27tli anyhow. We will meet the 10.30 train from town. Good-bye," and ho was gone, and driving off in his cab before I had time even to realise what ho wanted of me. What on earth did he mean ? and whose christening ? Surely both Mrs Tomlyns and he had been baptised ! What could it all be about ? I evolved these questions whilst I discussed my rather chilled dinner, and I got no satisfactory answer until, turning to tho mantel-piece to light my pipe. I found a regular pile of letters awaiting my attention, which the landlady had not thought worth forwarding, as I wrote in Novomber, saying I should be back just before Christina*. There was one from Tomlyns. I opened it, feeling sure that now, at last, the problem would be solved. Ay, here it was. In his now changed style ho informed mo that he was the "proud father of a fine boy," and Lily, and he hojii'd I would come down to soetholittle fellow christened, and stand god-father on the occasion. Fancy Tomlyns in tho capacity of a " proud father," and fancy him askinsr mo to bo god-father ! Woll, jf course, I could not say "no," as it would look as if I wanted to get out of giving the present it suddenly dawned ou me would ho expected at my haud.«. So the next day I made my way to a jewellers', and selecting a fathcrly-lookiuir man, who was not serving' at tho moment, I went up to him and a sited him to show mo a christening proseut, suitable for a little boy. I had visions of a diamond pin to fasten his collars together, but the man assured me that was not at all tho correct thing, what I wanted was a handsomo silver mug. I got a good one, and took it down with me by tho 10.30 train on the 27th. Tomlyns met mo at the station and heartily wished me the compliments of tho season. I was much surprised to find he was still in excellent spirits, and quite as devoted to Mrs Tomlyns as he had formerly been to Miss Weston. " We have a number of people staying in tho house," he told me, as wo spun along in his comfortable dog-cart (he had learned to drive amongst other accomplishment since his marriage.) "There's Miss Coruford, I daresay you remember her? Nico girl, voiy; and a good many others you will soon know well, I hope." Now this was really too bad, and I was ou tho point of asking him to drive me back to tho station at ouco, before I was again pestered by Miss Cornford's attentions. ]Jut the thought of the mug I had to present to that little rascal, young Tomlyns, made me refrain from wouudiug my frieud'a feelinga by insist-

ing on returning home before I had actually arrived at my destiuaUoi". In the entrance ball, by accident or design I cannot say, was that Mi<s Cornfun!. She expressed herself quite delitrhlrd In see me. Of course, I had to say I was equally pleased to too her, Tomlvns laughed, and then took me to the draw-ing-room to pay my respects to his wife. I think, on the whole, marriage had rather improved her. They rang the bell for the baby. It came ! They asked me if it wasn't the image of its papa, I recoiled from the fuuny little, and said I could see no likeness except to a bald blackbird which I had, in my younger days, taken from its nest before the little ugly tiling had any feathers on. I said I thought the present specimen miurht improve when its feathers grew. Tomlyns roared, and the nurse—a stately prcsonage—observed that very likely I was a bachelor. I don't think Mrs TomlyiiM ever quite forgave mo for calling her infant (indirectly) ugly. There was one mercy—they never asked inc to hold that precious baby, as they did other people. I was devoutly thankful for the candour which had led me to express my real feelings ou first beholding such a travesty of a man. But I was to regret my thoughtlessness in not keeping myself fully posted in the Weston affairs in my absence. Tomlyns had written to me once ; sometime in June, I fancy. He said in a vague sort of way that Mrs Tomlyns was in trouble about her brother; some accident, I gathered from his letter. Soon after reading it, a young fellow at the hotel where I was staying in Switzerland had fallen down a glacier, and been nearly killed; and somehow I mixed him up with my friend's brother-in-law. The christening breakfast was a terribly grand affair, and very stiff, on account, I believe, of the numerous relations who had been defrauded of a gorgeous ceremony at the wedding, and were now invited to make up for it, and who were, I found out afterwards, not all on the best of terms with their young hostess. This stiffness led to frequent pauses in the conversation, and, during one of these, I attempted to make a diversion by saying pleasantly to Mrs Tomlyns— " That was a very unfortunate affair of your brother's in the summer. His accident, I mean. It might have, led to serious consequences, I imagine," I went on, feeling suddenly that I had said something dreadful, for all the men were looking meaningly at me. There was a little cry from Mrs Tomlyns, and she fainted right off. As tho master of the house passed me, in rushing to her assistance, he said : " I should nover have believed you could do such a thing, Smith." and her father contributed the remark, " I did not expect vou would have insulted my daughter in her own kouse, and not only insulted her, but those uncalled for, irapertiment, questions woro equally, and even more, offensive to me, Mr Smith !" There was a general dispersion of the guests, and, greatly pertured. I, for the first time, hailed the approach of Miss Comford with feelings of satisfaction, for she alone, of all the visitors, did not seem inclined to cut me dead, or utter Bome oaustio remark in passing mo. ''Miss Comford," I said, " for goodness sake, do tell me what I have done of what fearful lapsus limjua have I been guilty f" " Como out on the terrace, its not cold, and I will tell you," said she pleasantly. So out we went, and Miss Comford begun : " I would not speak to you at all, but that I am quite sure you more perfectly ignorant of tho painful circumstances connected with Mr Tomlyns' brothor." " Indeed I was, and am, I can assure you !" 1 cried, "as innocent as that little morsel in the nursery ?" "I can quite believe it. You were abroad at the time, and, possibly, did not see the English papers regularly !" " Indeed I was often without one for weeks togethsr," I auswered. " You see I did not keep to the beaten track at all."

" That explains it perfectly," said Miss Comford.

" Well, then !" I entreated her " please explain the mistake I must have made at the table, I conclude, in mentioning Mr Watson's name."

" Exactly !" answered the young lady. " His name is tabooed here. I will not go into details now, but put you in possession at once of the bare facts. About April, I think, Mr Watson got into difficulties ; gambled, or somehow lost n. large sum of money. He was in tho bank here, you know, or rather, at the town near here. He very foolishly took some money belonging to the bank, aa he was obliged suddenly to pay a debt, and had, he said, no time to think. He fully intended going to his father in his dinner time, and putting the money back before detection was possible. But his father was in town, and, in despair, he forgot to put his name to a cheque for the amount. There had been some fuss with him before this about a cheque, but nothing was proved then. His father was dreadfully angry, and _ all his creditors came forward with their claims, so the poor fellow had to run away one night Since then he has never been heard of, though the police were very active hi trying to trace him." "Great Scott!" I exclaimed. "No wonder Mrs Tomlyns fainted ! What a heartless brute they must all have thought me ! Miss Comford, help me ! What can I do to expiate my unpardonable conduct? Why, I want looking after like a child !" "You certainly do want someone to guard your stops now," she said laughing. " Then," she added archly, "Why don't you many ? A wife would be just the person to keep you in order." "No one bus ever asked me," I answered. Then, as a Midden thought flashed through my mind, ''It's leap year; perhaps some kind lady will take advantage of that." I was not really in earnest. 1 did not want to marry at nil ; hut just then I was in a dreadful predicament, and this girl seemed liko a savingangel. " Do you want a lady to ask you r" (die eontiuiied in a half-banterina: tone. 1 could not say "No." That wuuhl have been too mile, so, to get out of tin" difficulty, I made a politely conventional answer, " I should he only too happy " " Very well, then, shall 1 ask your" Again, I could not easily say "No," and I was no' sure whether she was not iu fuu all the time; so I weakly assented. "How do ynn do it?" she asked brightly. " What is the correct thing to " I suppose; will you marry me r I airain murmured, when, to my utter astonishment, she put her hand in mine, and said, in n low, soft tone, " Yes, dear, I will," and so I actually proposed to her myself. In return, she agreed to make my peace with the offended family ; which she did so successfully that Tomlyns rushed at mo, and nearly knocked me down, declaring he never was so glad in hi* life. "You'd bo so happy, old fellow !" he said, "nearly as happy as lam, I believe'. Forjrive you V Of course I will. I was an ass not to take care you knew all beforo you came down. ]sut ] say, Smith, did you propose to Miss Cjmford, or did she propose to you ?" "I'm sure I don't know," I answered. "I fancy it was a mutual arrangement. Anyhow I shall soon cease to bo a crusty old bachelor." [the Em]