The Travelling Companions Part 12

CULCH. (_whose jaw has visibly fallen_). I cannot say I recall it at this moment. Does he hold that a lover should expect to be accepted by--er--instalments, because, if so----

MISS P. I think I can quote his exact words. "If she simply doesn't like him, she may send him away for seven years----"

CULCH. (_stiffly_). No doubt that course is open to her. But why seven, and where is he expected to go?

MISS P. (_continuing calmly_). "He vowing to live on cresses and wear sackcloth meanwhile, or the like penance."

CULCH. I feel bound to state at once that, in my own case, my position at Somerset House would render anything of that sort utterly impracticable.

MISS P. Wait, please,--you are so impetuous. "If she likes him a little,"--(CULCHARD'S _brow relaxes_)--"or thinks she might come to like him in time, she may let him stay near her,"--(CULCHARD _makes a movement of relief and grat.i.tude_)--"putting him always on sharp trial, and requiring, figuratively, as many lion-skins or giants' heads as she thinks herself worth."

CULCH. (_grimly_). "Figuratively" is a distinct concession on Ruskin's part. Still, I should be glad to know----

MISS P. If you will have a little more patience, I will make myself clear. I have always determined that when the--ah--occasion presented itself, I would deal with it on Ruskinian principles. I propose in your case--presuming of course that you are willing to be under vow for me--to adopt a middle course.

CULCH. You are extremely good. And what precise form of--er--penance did you think of?

MISS P. The trial I impose is, that you leave Constance to-morrow--with Mr. Podbury.

CULCH. (_firmly_). If you expect me to travel for seven years with him, permit me to mention that I simply cannot do it. My leave expires in three weeks.

MISS P. I mentioned no term, I believe. Long before three weeks are over we shall meet again, and I shall be able to see how you have borne the test. I wish you to correct, if possible, a certain intolerance in your att.i.tude towards Mr. Podbury. Do you accept this probation, or not?

CULCH. I--ah--suppose I have no choice. But you really must allow me to say that it is _not_ precisely the reception I antic.i.p.ated. Still, in your service, I am willing to endure even Podbury--for a strictly limited period; that I _do_ stipulate for.

MISS P. That, as I have already said, is quite understood. Now go and arrange with Mr. Podbury.

CULCH. (_to himself, as he retires_). It is _most_ unsatisfactory; but at least Podbury is disposed of!

_The same Scene, a quarter of an hour later._ PODBURY _and_ MISS PRENDERGAST.

PODB. (_with a very long face_). No, I _say_, though! Ruskin doesn't say all that?

MISS P. I am not in the habit of misquoting. If you wish to verify the quotation, however, I dare say I could find you the reference in _Fors Clavigera_.

PODB. (_ruefully_). Thanks--I won't trouble you. Only it does seem rather rough on fellows, don't you know. If every one went on his plan--well, there wouldn't be many marriages! Still, I never thought you'd say "Yes" right off. It's like my cheek, I know, to ask you at all; you're so awfully clever and that. And if there's a chance for me, I'm game for anything in the way of a trial. Don't make it stiffer than you can help, that's all!

MISS P. All I ask of you is to leave me for a short time, and go and travel with Mr. Culchard again.

PODB. Oh, I say, Miss Prendergast, you know. Make it something else.

_Do!_

MISS P. That is the task I require, and I can accept no other. It is nothing, after all, but what you came out here to do.

PODB. I didn't know him _then_, you see. And what made me agree to come away with him at all is beyond me. It was all Hughie Rose's doing--he said we should get on together like blazes. So we have--_very_ like blazes!

MISS P. Never mind that. Are you willing to accept the trial or not?

PODB. If you only knew what he's like when he's nasty, you'd let me off--you would, really. But there, to please you, I'll do it. I'll stand him as long as ever I can--'pon my honour I will. Only you'll make it up to me afterwards, won't you now?

MISS P. I will make no promises--a true knight should expect no reward for his service, Mr. Podbury.

PODB. (_blankly_). Shouldn't he? I'm a little new to the business, you see, and it _does_ strike me----but never mind. When am I to trot him off?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT DOES SEEM RATHER ROUGH ON FELLOWS, DON'T YOU KNOW."]

MISS P. As soon as you can induce him to go--to-morrow, if possible.

PODB. I don't believe he'll _go_, you know, for one thing!

MISS P. (_demurely_). I think you will find him open to persuasion. But go and try, Mr. Podbury.

PODB. (_to himself, as he withdraws_). Well, I've let myself in for a nice thing! Rummest way of treating a proposal _I_ ever heard of. I should just like to tell that fellow Ruskin what I think of his precious ideas. But there's _one_ thing, though--she can't care about Culchard, or she wouldn't want him carted off like this.... Hooray, I never thought of that before! Why, there he is, dodging about to find out how _I've_ got on. I'll tackle him straight off.

[CULCHARD _and_ PODBURY _meet at the head of the staircase, and speak at the same moment._

CULCH. Er--Podbury, it has occurred } to me that we might----} } leave this place to-morrow!

PODB. I say, Culchard, we really ought} to----}

PODB. Hullo! we're both of one mind for once, eh? (_To himself._) Poor old beggar! Got the sack! That explains a lot. Well, I won't tell him anything about this business just now.

CULCH. So it appears. (_To himself._) Had his _quietus_, evidently. Ah, well, I won't exult over him.

[_They go off together to consult a time-table._

MISS P. (_on the balcony musing_). Poor fellows! I couldn't very well say anything more definite at present. By the time I see them again, I may understand my own heart better. Really, it is rather an exciting sensation, having two suitors under vow and doing penance at the same time--and all for my sake! I hope, though, they won't mention it to one another--or to Bob. Bob does not understand these things, and he might----But after all, there are only _two_ of them. And Ruskin distinctly says that every girl who is worth _anything_ ought always to have half a dozen or so. Two is really _quite_ moderate.

CHAPTER XII.

Culchard descends from the Clouds.

SCENE--_in Front of the Hotel Bodenhaus at Splugen. The Diligence For Bellinzona is having its team attached. An elderly Englishwoman is sitting on her trunk, trying to run through the last hundred pages of a novel from the Hotel Library before her departure._ PODBURY _is in the Hotel, negotiating for sandwiches._ CULCHARD _is practising his Italian upon a very dingy gentleman in smoked spectacles, with a shawl round his throat._

THE DINGY ITALIAN (_suddenly discovering_ CULCHARD'S _nationality_).

Ecco, siete Inglese! Lat us spika Ingelis. I onnerstan' 'im to ze bottomside. (_Laboriously, to_ CULCHARD, _who tries to conceal his chagrin._) 'Ow menni time you employ to go since Coire at here? (C.

_nods with vague encouragement._) Vich manners of vezzer you vere possess troo your travels--mosh ommerella? (C.'s _eyes grow vacant._) Ha, I _tink_ it vood! Zis day ze vicket root sall 'ave plenti 'orse to pull, &c., &c. (_Here_ PODBURY _comes up, and puts some rugs in the coupe of the diligence._) You sit at ze beginning-end, hey? better, you tink, zan ze mizzle? I too, zen, sall ride at ze front--we vill spika Ingelis, altro!

PODB. (_overhearing this, with horror_). One minute, Culchard. (_He draws him aside._) I say, for goodness' sake, don't let's have that old organ-grinding Johnny in the _coupe_ with _us!_

CULCH. Organ-grinder! you are so _very_ insular! For anything you can tell, he may be a decayed n.o.bleman.

PODB. (_coa.r.s.ely_). Well, let him decay somewhere else, that's all!

Just tell the Conductor to shove him in the _interieur_, do, while I nip into the _coupe_ and keep our places.