The Definite Object Part 24

Spike (starting). "Who?"

Hermione. "Mr. Geoffrey. How did you happen to meet each other?"

Another pause, while Spike stands frowning in perplexed thought.

Spike. "Where did you say the cloth was?"

Hermione. "In the sideboard drawer. How long have you known him?"

Spike (beginning to lay the cloth feverishly). "Oh, a goodish time. Say, Hermy, he sure likes your name a whole lot!"

Hermione. "Oh!" (A very small pause.) "Likes my name, does he?"

Spike. "He sure does. He told me so."

Hermione. "Oh!" (Another small pause.) "Just what did he say, boy dear?"

Spike. "He said it was Greek an' very beautiful, an' then I said it kind of fitted you because you were aces up on the face an' figure question."

A rush of petticoats, and enter Hermione, flushed and laughing.

"You dear boy!" she cried, "for that you shall be kissed!" which he was forthwith; after which she turned to the mirror to smooth back a s.h.i.+ning tress of hair--that same rebellious curl that glistened above her fine, black eyebrow.

"Where did you say you first met him--Mr. Geoffrey?" she enquired suddenly, still busied with the rebellious curl. Spike started, and glanced uneasily at her shapely back.

"Say, Hermy," said he, a little huskily, "have you got anything for supper?"

"Not much, dear, I'm afraid."

"That's a pity!"

"Why?"

"Oh, because I asked him in to supper."

"You asked Mr. Geoffrey--here?" she gasped.

"Surest thing you know. Y' see, I thought you was staying over at Englewood."

"Oh, Arthur!" she sighed. "And there are only two wretched little chops!

And not a bit of b.u.t.ter! And the rent's due to-morrow--I can't spare a cent--and me in this shabby old gown! and you broke the best teapot."

"Sounds kind of gay an' festive!" sighed Spike ruefully. "But don't worry about the eats, dear. Geoff won't mind, an' he'll never notice your old gown--"

"He seems to notice a great deal," said Hermione doubtfully as she hastily untied the big ap.r.o.n, "and besides--oh, gracious goodness!"

she cried, as a knock sounded at the front door, "you must let him in, Arthur--and don't let him know I'm changing my gown!" Saying which, she vanished into her bedroom while Spike hastened to the door.

"Why--h.e.l.lo, Tony!" he exclaimed, "what's wrong now?"

"My lil Pietro," cried the Italian excitedly, "he no sleep--he burn-a burn-a all-a da time,--all-a da time cry! You tell-a you sis--she come-a like-a da las' time den he no cry-a--" But here Tony broke off to flourish his hat and bow gracefully as he caught sight of Hermione herself. "Ah, Signorina!" he cried, "my lil Pietro he seeck. You please-a come see my lil Pietro? He flush-a he cry--he all-a da fire! he burn-a, burn-a, like-a da fire! You so good, so generosa--you come see my lil Pietro?"

"Why, of course I will!" said Hermione in her calm, soft voice, "poor little mite--is he feverish?"

"Si, si Signorina!" answered the anxious young father, "he burn-a, burn-a all-a da time!"

"Reach me the aconite, boy dear; yes, that's it."

"But what about supper, Hermy?" queried Spike wistfully.

"Oh, well--finish laying the table; I'll be back as soon as ever I can, dear."

"Oh, Gee!" sighed Spike, as their footsteps died away down the stair, "she sure is keen on knowing how I met Geoff! And if she ever finds out--" Spike cowered down into a chair and clasping his head between his hands sat thus a long while, staring moodily at the floor, striving for a way out of the difficulty. He was yet wrestling with this knotty problem when he heard m.u.f.fled knocks at the front door, which, being opened, disclosed the object of his thoughts.

"Why, Geoff," he cried gladly, "I thought you wasn't coming. Say, what you got there?" he enquired, for Ravenslee's arms were filled with sundry packages and parcels.

"Come and see!" said Ravenslee mysteriously. "Catch this one before I drop it!"

"Why--h.e.l.lo," said Spike, sniffing at the package in question as he led the way into the parlour, "it smells good! It sniffs like--Holy Gee, it's a roast turkey! And--oh, say, Geoff--she's a beaut!"

"Precisely what Mr. Pffeffenfifer a.s.sured me," said Ravenslee, depositing his other burdens on the table. "Mr. Pffeffenfifer is a man educated in eats, a food fancier, an artist of the appet.i.te!

Mr. Pffeffenfifer is fat and soulful! Mr. Pffeffenfifer nearly wept tears over the virtues of that bird--pledged his mortal soul for its tenderness, vowed by all the G.o.ds it had breast enough for twins! Mr.

Pffeffenfifer seemed so pa.s.sionately attached to that bird that I feared he meant to keep it to gloat over in selfish secrecy. But no--base coin seduced him, did the trick and--here it is. Also we have a loaf!" and from beneath one arm Ravenslee dropped a package that resolved itself into a Vienna roll. "Also, ham--"

"Hey, Geoff," said Spike in awe-struck tones, "are all these eats?"

"Certainly. I should have brought more if I could have carried 'em."

"More?"

"Most decidedly. When I buy eats, my lad, I buy everything in sight that looks worth while--if Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells. Mr. Pffeffenfifer sells in such a soulfully seductive way that eats acquire virtues above and beyond their own base selves. Mr. Pffeffenfifer can infuse soul into a sausage. Behold now, eats the most alluring. See, what's this! Ah, yes, here we have, item: Salmi, redolent of garlic! Here again a head cheese, succulent and savoury; here's ham, most ravis.h.i.+ngly pink--and a Camembert cheese."

"But, Jiminy Christmas--you bought such a lot of each. Who's goin' t'

eat all these?"

"We, of course!"

"But we can't eat 'em all!" sighed Spike.

"Can't we?" said Ravenslee, beginning to view the quant.i.ty of the numerous viands with dubious eyes. "They do seem rather a lot now I see 'em all together. But I'm ravenous, and if we can't manage 'em, we'll find some one who can."

"Y' see, Geoff, I shan't be able t' eat any o' the rest when I'm through with the turk'!" sighed Spike, a little reproachfully. "My, but I'm hungry! Strange how hungry cold turkey makes a guy!"

"Why, then," said Ravenslee, pitching his hat into a corner, "sit down, comrade, and 'let mirth with unconfin_ed_ wing'--" Ravenslee yawned.

"I guess we'd better wait a bit, Geoff."

"What for?"

"Hermy."