Mr. Bingle Part 30

"I'm sure I appreciate your good opinion, Diggs. But, tell me, is it a matter of wages? If it is, I think we may be able to arbitrate the question."

"No, sir. Wages has nothing to do with it, sir. My wages 'ave been quite satisfactory, as my savings will prove. As a matter of fact, Mr.

Bingle, I 'ave laid by a very neat little sum, which I took the liberty of investing in a small business before giving notice, sir, the hopportunity presenting itself while you were so worried over the sickness that I felt it would be quite wrong to disturb you with my affairs. We 'ave purchased a green-grocer's business in Columbus Avenue--you might call it a sort of general business, fruit, vegetables, hegg--eggs, coal, firewood and vinous liquors, sir. We hexpect to take possession in a fortnight, sir."

"We? Have you a partner?"

"Yes, sir. Watson, sir."

"Watson? Is--is he leaving me, too? Upon my soul, Diggs--this is TOO bad!"

"Yes, sir, it really is. I happreciate what it means, sir, as I told Watson when he gave notice to me. I says to him, says I: 'Watson, Mr.

Bingle will 'ave a time of it getting any one to fill your place,' and Watson says to me: 'And what about you, Mr. Diggs?' And I says 'Pooh!'"

"Watson gave notice to you, did he? When did this happen?"

"Yes, sir. The servants usually give notice to the butler. He did it the day we bought out the business, sir," said Diggs, surprised that Mr. Bingle should have asked so simple a question.

"I see. Well, Diggs, I can't tell you how sorry I am to have you go.

You have been here for eight years. You are the best butler I've ever known--and the only one, I may as well add. I wish you the best of luck. Shake hands, Diggs. It may interest you to know that I look upon you as the best friend I've ever had. You are the only man I've known in the past ten years who has really treated me as an equal. You've done this, Diggs, knowing full well that by rights I am nothing more than a bookkeeper and never will be more than that, no matter how many millions I may possess. You have made it your business to live down to me, and so I am your debtor. Everybody else, from Mr. Force to the telegraph operator over in the railroad station, looks--but, why go into all this? You are going, and I wish you the best of luck. The same to Watson, too, if you please!"

"I shall mention it to Watson, sir. He will be very much gratified."

"And I may be able to throw quite a little business in your way, Diggs.

We shall make it a point to buy our supplies from the firm of--is it to be Diggs & Watson?

"No, sir. It is to be called the Covent Garden Consolidated Fruit Company, sir. There is another little matter I'd like to speak about, Mr. Bingle." Diggs was quite red in the face. "Ahem! I am also compelled to say that Melissa has given notice, sir."

"Melissa! Impossible! Not MELISSA?"

"Melissa Taylor, sir."

"Why, she is the last one that I--" Words failed him. He looked quite helpless in the face of this staggering blow.

"I 'ad a great deal of difficulty, sir, in persuading 'er to leave your employment. She was most determined about it at first, sir."

"You--YOU, Diggs, persuaded her to leave? 'Pon my soul, that was rather a shabby thing to--"

"Oh, I trust you won't look at it in the wrong way, sir," cried Diggs in distress. "Melissa 'as merely consented to become my wife, sire. No offence intended, I ha.s.sure you. No underhanded work on my--"

"G.o.d bless my soul!" cried Mr. Bingle. "Melissa is going to marry you?"

"Yes, sir. Next Thursday week, sir. And also, sir, I am obliged to announce that Miss Stokes, the first nurse-maid, is to become Mrs.

Watson on the same day."

Mr. Bingle sat down again. "My gracious!"

"She also gives notice, sir, through me. Did I thank you, sir, for your generous offer to trade with us when we take over the business? I was that rattled, sir, I fear I forgot to--"

"It is taken for granted, Diggs. And you--you all leave us on the fourteenth of July?"

"If quite convenient, Mr. Bingle."

"The anniversary of the fall of the Bastile," mused the distressed master of the house.

"Oh, I ha.s.sure you, sir, that really had nothing to do with it," said Diggs.

"Well, I suppose I shall have to train a new lot to take your places."

"I would suggest that you advance Hughes to the place of butler. He is a very competent man."

"We'll see. And now you may say to the other three members of the Covent Garden Fruit Company that I accept their resignations with regret, and wish all of them joy."

"Thank you, sir. I shall speak to Watson and Miss Stokes, and I shall ask Watson to carry your message to Miss Taylor."

"Can't you attend to that part of it yourself, Diggs?"

Diggs stiffened. "I regret to say, sir, that Miss Taylor and I 'ave had a--what you might describe, sir, as a bit of a tiff. She hasn't permitted me to speak to her since yesterday morning. It will be quite all right, however, to 'ave Watson 'andle the matter. Thank you, sir."

The fifth of July, as usual, came close upon the heels of the one day in the year that men with large families of growing children feel perfectly justified in characterizing as All-Fools' Day. The Bingle youngsters, regardless of their missing antecedents, celebrated the day as unqualified American citizens. They set fire to the stables, shot Roman candles into the kitchen, bounced torpedoes off of the statuary in the gardens, hurled firecrackers great and small at one another, and came through the day with one thumb missing, four faces powder-burnt, and one arm fractured in two places. (Rutherford fell off of the balcony while being chased by an escaped pin-wheel.)

"But," said Mr. Bingle, after relating the horrors of the day to Dr.

Fiddler on the morning of the fifth, "I am glad to say that we got through with it alive. How did you find Mrs. Bingle? She was pretty well done-up by the noise."

"She's all right, Bingle. Don't worry. Who is this coming up the drive in such haste?"

Mr. Bingle peered intently over his gla.s.ses.

"That? Why, 'pon my soul, Fiddler, that is Mr. Sigsbee. My lawyer, you know. Now, what in the world can be bringing him out here? By George, I--I wonder!" He leaned against a porch pillar, a.s.sailed by a sudden weakness.

"You wonder--what?"

"I wonder if the Supreme Court sits on the day after the Fourth of July."

"The Court is late this year in arriving at the summer recess, that much I can tell you. Are you expecting a decision in the case of Hooper et al. vs. Bingle?"

"I am," said Mr. Bingle, mopping his brow, which was wet with a very chilly moisture.

CHAPTER XIV

THE LAW'S LAST WORD

Mr. Sigsbee remained for luncheon. He did not return to the city until late in the afternoon. All day long an atmosphere of gloom, not altogether attributable to reaction from the Fourth, pervaded the house. By that strange, mysterious form of contagion described as "sensing," the servants became infected by the depression; questioning looks were answered by questioning looks; conversation was carried on in lowered tones and confined almost exclusively to matters pertaining to the work in hand; furtive looks were bestowed upon the door of Mr.

Bingle's study and, later on, directed with some misgiving upon the closed transom above Mrs. Bingle's bedroom door. To the certain knowledge of the oldest servant on the place, this transom had never been lowered before.

This much was known to three persons: the butler, one of the footmen and Melissa: shortly after the strange gentleman entered Mr. Bingle's study with the master, the mistress and Dr. Fiddler, Mrs. Bingle was led to her room by the doctor and her husband, moaning and wringing her hands. The trained nurse who had come down to take care of Rutherford was hastily summoned to the bedroom, and later on Diggs was instructed to telephone to Dr. Fiddler's office in town with an order to his a.s.sistant to send out a second nurse without delay.