The Old Adam Part 31

"Both! Eh, but I should like to put a spoke in Mr. Wrissell's wheel, gentleman as he is. You see, he's just one of those men you can't help wanting to tease. When you're on the road you meet lots of 'em."

"I tell you what you can do!"

"What?"

"Write and tell Slossons that you don't wish them to act for you any more, and you'll go to another firm of solicitors. That would bring 'em to their senses."

"Can't! They're in the will. _He_ settled that. That's why they're so c.o.c.ky."

Edward Henry persisted, and this time with an exceedingly impressive and conspiratorial air:

"I tell you another thing you could do--you really _could_ do--and it depends on n.o.body but yourself."

"Well," she said with decision, "I'll do it."

"Whatever it is?"

"If it's straight."

"Of course it's straight. And it would be a grand way of teasing Mr.

Wrissell and all of 'em! A simply grand way! I should die of laughing."

"Well--"

At this critical point the historic conversation was interrupted by phenomena in the hall which Lady Woldo recognised with feverish excitement. Lord Woldo had safely returned from Hyde Park. Starting up, she invited Edward Henry to wait a little. A few moments later they were bending over the infant together, and Edward Henry was offering his views on the cause and cure of rash.

VII.

Early on the same afternoon Edward Henry managed by a somewhat excessive obstreperousness to penetrate once more into the private room of Mr.

Slosson, senior, who received him in silence.

He pa.s.sed a doc.u.ment to Mr. Slosson.

"It's only a copy," he said, "but the original is in my pocket, and to-morrow it will be duly stamped. I'll give you the original in exchange for the stamped lease of my Piccadilly Circus plot of land. You know the money is waiting."

Mr. Slosson perused the doc.u.ment; and it was certainly to his credit that he did so without any superficial symptoms of dismay.

"What will Mr. Wrissell and the Woldo family say about that, do you think?" asked Edward Henry.

"Lady Woldo will never be allowed to carry it out," said Mr. Slosson.

"Who's going to stop her? She must carry it out. She wants to carry it out. She's dying to carry it out. Moreover, I shall communicate it to the papers to-night--unless you and I come to an arrangement. And if by any chance she doesn't carry it out--well, there'll be a fine society action about it, you can bet your boots, Mr. Slosson."

The doc.u.ment was a contract made between Blanche Lady Woldo of the one part and Edward Henry Machin of the other part, whereby Blanche Lady Woldo undertook to appear in musical comedy at any West End theatre to be named by Edward Henry, at a salary of two hundred pounds a week, for the period of six months.

"You've not got a theatre," said Mr. Slosson.

"I can get half a dozen in an hour--with that contract in my hand," said Edward Henry.

And he knew from Mr. Slosson's face that he had won.

VIII.

That evening, feeling that he had earned a little recreation, he went to the Empire Theatre--not in Hanbridge, but in Leicester Square, London.

The lease, with a prodigious speed hitherto unknown at Slossons, had been drawn up, engrossed, and executed. The Piccadilly Circus land was his for sixty-four years.

"And I've got the old chapel pulled down for nothing," he said to himself.

He was rather happy as he wandered about amid the brilliance of the Empire Promenade. But after half an hour of such exercise, and of vain efforts to see or hear what was afoot on the stage, he began to feel rather lonely. Then it was that he caught sight of Mr. Alloyd the architect, also lonely.

"Well," said Mr. Alloyd curtly, with a sardonic smile, "they've telephoned me all about it. I've seen Mr. Wrissell. Just my luck! So you're the man! He pointed you out to me this morning. My design for that church would have knocked the West End! Of course Mr. Wrissell will pay me compensation, but that's not the same thing. I wanted the advertis.e.m.e.nt of the building.... Just my luck! Have a drink, will you?"

Edward Henry ultimately went with the plaintive Mr. Alloyd to his rooms in Adelphi Terrace. He quitted those rooms at something after two o'clock in the morning. He had practically given Mr. Alloyd a definite commission to design the Regent Theatre. Already he was practically the proprietor of a first-cla.s.s theatre in the West End of London!

"I wonder whether Master Seven Sachs could have bettered my day's work to-day!" he reflected as he got into a taxicab. He had dismissed his electric brougham earlier in the evening. "I doubt if even Master Seven Sachs himself wouldn't be proud of my little scheme in Eaton Square!"

said he.... "Wilkins's Hotel, please, driver."

THE OLD ADAM

PART II

CHAPTER VII

CORNER-STONE

I.

On a morning in spring Edward Henry got out of an express at Euston, which had come, not from the Five Towns, but from Birmingham. Having on the previous day been called to Birmingham on local and profitable business, he had found it convenient to spend the night there and telegraph home that London had summoned him. It was in this unostentatious, this half-furtive fas.h.i.+on, that his visits to London now usually occurred. Not that he was afraid of his wife! Not that he was afraid even of his mother! Oh, no! He was merely rather afraid of himself,--of his own opinion concerning the metropolitan, non-local, speculative, and perhaps unprofitable business to which he was committed. The fact was that he could scarcely look his women in the face when he mentioned London. He spoke vaguely of "real estate"

enterprise, and left it at that. The women made no enquiries; they too, left it at that. Nevertheless....

The episode of Wilkins's was buried, but it was imperfectly buried. The Five Towns definitely knew that he had stayed at Wilklns's for a bet, and that Brindley had discharged the bet. And rumours of his valet, his electric brougham, his theatrical supper-parties, had mysteriously hung in the streets of the Five Towns like a strange vapour. Wisps of the strange vapour had conceivably entered the precincts of his home, but n.o.body ever referred to them; n.o.body ever sniffed apprehensively, nor asked anybody else whether there was not a smell of fire. The discreetness of the silence was disconcerting. Happily his relations with that angel, his wife, were excellent. She had carried angelicism so far as not to insist on the destruction of Carlo; and she had actually applauded, while sticking to her white ap.r.o.n, the sudden and startling extravagances of his toilette.

On the whole, though little short of thirty-five thousand pounds would ultimately be involved,--not to speak of liability of nearly three thousand a year for sixty-four years for ground-rent,--Edward Henry was not entirely gloomy as to his prospects. He was indubitably thinner in girth; novel problems and anxieties, and the constant annoyance of being in complete technical ignorance of his job, had removed some flesh.

(And not a bad thing either!) But, on the other hand, his chin exhibited one proof that life was worth living, and that he had discovered new faith in life and a new conviction of youthfulness.

He had shaved off his beard.

"Well, sir!" a voice greeted him full of hope and cheer, immediately his feet touched the platform.