CHAPTER VII.
LORD MAYOR'S DAY.
It was Lord Mayor's Day. Haggard and his wife sat in the littledrawing-room of their bijou house in May Fair. The room was prettilyfurnished, and Georgie had often accused herself of extravagance. Theregulation chairs and tables of the furnished house had been banishedfrom Mrs. Haggard's drawing-room. It had been a pleasure to choose thevarious tasteful specimens of the upholsterer's art. The nesting facultyis perhaps even more strongly developed in young married ladies than inbirds; young Mrs. Haggard was no exception to this rule. Many had beenthe happy pilgrimages made by Georgie and her lover, for Haggard was herlover still, to the great firm in Pall Mall and to the world-famedhouse in Bond Street.
"Pick up what you like, my dear, and make our drawing-room, your drawingroom, as pretty as you please; nothing can be good enough in the littlekingdom in which my Georgie deigns to reign."
But sugared compliments and furniture-buying cannot go on for ever. Apile of invitations attested the Haggards' popularity. Dance-givingmammas were anxious to secure the success of their entertainments byobtaining the presence of "lovely Mrs. Haggard."
A well-known professional beauty in the heyday of her charms was"sitting-out" at a great ball, the observed of all observers, in a_dos-a-dos causeuse_ with a Royal Highness.
"And is your Royal Highness also a worshipper at the shrine of buddingbucolic beauty? I mean pretty Mrs. Haggard," said the spoilt darling ofsociety, as with a little _moue_ she had indicated Georgie, who enteredthe room on her husband's arm. The good-natured prince glancedcarelessly in the direction indicated; his lazy eyes sparkled as hequickly replied in a tone of reproof:
"Pretty is not the word, Mrs. Charmington; if that is the lady youallude to, she is lovely, absolutely lovely, and must count amongst heradmirers every member of the human race who has had the happy privilegeof beholding her." His Royal Highness rose.
Mrs. Charmington hastened to spread the report that his Royal Highnesswas seriously smitten.
"Royals ripen early, I suppose; naturally they age as quickly; perhapshis Royal Highness is arriving at a second childhood, and his heartturns to people of the Dolly the Dairymaid type."
But in her first rage Mrs. Charmington had been weak enough to let outthat the prince had called young Mrs. Haggard "lovely." Mrs.Charmington had received her own unsigned patent as a recognized beautyfrom the discriminating admiration of his Royal Highness. The _fiat_ hadgone forth, and Julia Charmington had commenced her reign. TheCharmington boot and the Charmington Bouquet were very freelyadvertised. A reproduction of Mrs. Charmington herself decorated theinterior of the omnibuses.
"Why use dangerous cosmetics when Jones' soap retains youth and healthfor the complexion, and fosters the development of beauty?" Underneaththe portrait was a facsimile of Mrs. Charmington's fashionable scrawl,"I owe you so much, so very much. I have never used any other soap thanyours. Very faithfully yours, Julia Charmington."
Ill-natured people said that Mrs. Charmington owed a great deal toMessrs. Jones. That the cheque that paid for her well-known turn-outhad been signed by the firm; that they had twice paid her dress-maker'sbill, when that terrible person had become importunate; that they hadsettled the account of Monsieur Alphonse, the great _coiffeur_; thatthey had paid her husband's debts. Some of them, more imaginative,declared that Mrs. Charmington was even a sleeping partner in thesaponaceous firm. But the ill-natured people were quite wrong; it wasnot Messrs. Jones who paid Mrs. Charmington's bills. Little JackCharmington, her husband, had a snug four hundred a year of his own,which quite sufficed for his modest needs. Mrs. Charmington's gracefulletter had been written by her in a moment of good nature, and, it maybe said in confidence, at the instigation, some eight years ago, of BigReginald Haggard, who had looked on the whole matter as a joke, and whohad, at that stormy period of his career, been very much in Mrs.Charmington's confidence. The real fact was that Mrs. Charmington keptMessrs. Jones before the public, and those astute advertisers did thesame kind office for the lady.
Thus it was that Georgie became "lovely Mrs. Haggard." This is what thewriters of serious books pompously call "the _secret history_ of thewhole matter."
Georgie now, to her astonishment, found her movements invariablychronicled in the society journals. It rather annoyed her thanotherwise, but her husband was pleased, and that was enough for Georgie.
The lazy giant was sprawling on the most comfortable of the sofas; thepair were alone in the dainty little drawing-room. Young Mrs. Haggard'seyes were full of tears. "Won't you take me with you," she sobbedappealingly, "it's only for six months, Reginald?"
"I can't, my darling; it's a beast of a climate, and the mosquitos wouldeat you up. I shall only be away for six months; you know I have madeup my mind to get rid of the whole bag of tricks. It's quite true theland can't run away, but there are always rows and revolutions andsmashes going on; you can't trust anybody. Of course, Georgie, I shouldlike you to go; but think of the risk. It won't wash at all. We'll stayover Christmas here in England. I suppose I must take you down to seethe old man, and then we'll go straight off to Rome, and finish thewinter there. I'm getting rather bored, you know, Georgie, with the fusspeople make in town. It's deuced fine fun for you of course."
The fact was that this excellent husband hated playing second fiddle,and he found, to his astonishment, that young Mrs. Haggard's socialsuccess had far eclipsed that of Georgie Warrender. As a good-lookingyoung bachelor, though a detrimental, he had been very popular. As awealthy _parti_ and a sort of lion he had been the fashion himself theprevious season, and to his own knowledge his curly hair and bigmoustache had caused a quicker beating of the heart in many a femalebreast. But as Beauty's husband he felt out of his element. "You luckybeggar!" had been repeated to him so often that he hated the phrase. Ofcourse, he still admired his wife as the handsomest woman he had everclapped eyes upon; he wasn't even jealous of the great attention thatGeorgie habitually received. First, because he knew he could trust herimplicitly; but secondly, and this was far the more powerful reason,because he was too much a man of the world ever to render himselfridiculous.
"You know we can have rather a jolly time of it in Rome, Georgie," hesaid. "You must by this time be as heartily sick of the eternal_tete-a-tete_ as I am. I don't mean that," he said, springing to hisfeet as he noticed that his young wife shuddered and turned pale; "butthe fact is, Georgie, I don't want to be pointed at like poor old JackCharmington, and I confess, dear," he added with a smile, "that I shouldlike a little more of 'lovely Mrs. Haggard's' society."
A very little crust thrown to the very hungry is always accepted withgratitude. Georgie Haggard brightened up at once. "I suppose I must makethe best of it, dear," she said with a pleased smile; "at all events, Ishall have you all to myself in Rome."
"Yes; it will be quite a second honey-moon; but I half promised yourcousin Lucy that she should join us. It'll be beastly dull for her atThe Warren, you see, poor girl; and she doesn't seem to jump atSpunyarn, though he does hang on. Is there any one else in the wind, doyou think, Georgie?" he said with some interest.
"No; Lucy seems perfectly heartwhole," replied his wife.
"I often wonder you two hit it off so well," mused Haggard as he gazedinto the blue flames that flickered over the little wood fire, for hiswife affected a wood fire as more cheerful. "Why, Lucy has been youronly serious competitor this season; I wonder you aren't jealous of eachother."
"How can you talk such nonsense, Reginald?" the wife replied with asunny laugh.
"Then you don't mind her coming with us on the Roman trip?"
It showed that Mrs. Haggard had considerable confidence in her ownattractions, as she innocently replied, "If you don't mind, why shouldI, dear?"
"Well, then it's all settled, old girl; we'll put in the dull time inItaly. Old Pit Town knows lots of good people, and would give usletters, I suppose. In the spring I'll just rush across and polish offthe Mexican affair."
His gaze again retur
ned to the fire which smouldered on the hearth.
There was a silence.
Gradually Haggard raised his eyes; they rested on his wife, they tookher in from head to foot, and seemed to appraise each of her numerouspoints. The husband's countenance was lighted up by a pleasedexpression.
"By Jove! Georgie," he said, "people are quite right; you are anuncommonly fine woman."
He kissed her.
It was the kiss of proprietorship, similar to the appreciative pat hewould have given to a prize dog or a valuable horse that was his ownproperty.
Yes, Georgie loved the man, and looked up at him with wistful, trustingeyes. She was his, body and soul.
But the door opens, and a peal of merry laughter caused Haggard and hiswife to subside into seats on either side of the fireplace.
"Oh, Georgie! I'm so sorry you missed it, it's been such fun, and Mr.Sleek has been so attentive. I really think the two girls thought I wassetting my cap at their father. What with the procession outside, andthe farce indoors, we've had a delightful morning," cried LucyWarrender, as she entered the room.
"I fear it was rather a tragedy to poor little Sleek," said LordSpunyarn, who followed her; "a tiger when a-lashing of his tail wasnothing to Sleek. I shall never forget the look he gave me after lunch."
"When inflamed with love and wine, you know," said Lucy pertly. "Beholdhis scalp."
Lucy triumphantly extended an enormous formal bouquet. Alas, for poorlittle Sleek! his flowers were carelessly tossed upon the table.
"Oh, they were very confidential, you know," lisped Spunyarn; "I wasquite out in the cold."
"Ungrateful man, when you had a window all to yourself, and a smilingMiss Sleek on either side of you, gazing into your eyes. You neglectedyour opportunities, Lord Spunyarn. Let me tell you that the daughters ofmy last conquest are two very pretty girls."
"Not when Miss Warrender is present."
"I rather think you forgot Miss Warrender's presence," retorted thecoquette.
"Anyhow, two's company and three isn't, you'll all allow that. How happycould I have been with either were t'other dear charmer away."
"Did they both propose to you, Lord Spunyarn?" said Mrs. Haggard with asmile.
"If I were a vain man I should confess that they rather gave themselvesaway."
"Much as Hanibal Peter Gray did for love of the beautiful cannibal,"said Lucy.
"Oh, they were quite safe in my case, not being a _mangeur decoeurs_," replied the discreet young nobleman. "But my attention wasnot sufficiently absorbed by those guileless girls that I failed toperceive the doings of the other couple."
"You are quite wrong, as usual. Mr. Sleek was merely explaining who thevarious people were."
"In that case, Miss Warrender, he might at least have given us all thebenefit of his information, instead of conveying it in an inaudiblewhisper to Miss Warrender's private ear. And he needn't have blushedtill he looked like a pickled cabbage."
"It's not fair, Lucy," said Mrs. Haggard reprovingly, with an attempt atmatronly dignity.
"Well, you know," laughed the girl, "it wasn't my fault. Spunyarndeclined to come to the rescue. There I was, practically _tete-a-tete_with the man; the noise of the crowd drowned my cries and remonstrances.Besides, after the scalp, and the elaborate lunch which was awaiting usin the middle of the room, I felt myself bound to listen to the voice ofthe charmer. I was cheered, too, by Lord Spunyarn's masterly defeat ofDabbler. _Poor_ Dabbler!"
"'Pon my word, I didn't know it. When we came in there was a fat manmessing with the things on the table. He was dressed like a waiter, andhe looked like one--a regular City waiter, you know. He held out hishand. Of course, I gave him my hat and coat. He has no business to dresslike a waiter and to hold out his hand."
"Lord Spunyarn, he is a common councilman, and he is going to dine withthe Lord Mayor," cried Lucy.
"All the same, he has no business to be dressed like a waiter in themorning, if even he be a common councilman and going to dine with theLord Mayor. Anyhow, he took the hat and coat, and then, thank heaven, hebolted."
"What's Dabbler to him, or he to Dabbler, that he should weep?"misquoted Georgie's husband, who had enjoyed Dabbler's discomfiture.
"It's all very well for you all to laugh, but Mr. Sleek didn't seem tolike it at all. What did he mean by saying that Mr. Dabbler was a warmman?" asked Lucy.
"Oh, piles of money of course; all the common councilmen have piles ofmoney," said Spunyarn.
"And do they all dress like waiters in the morning, and then dine withthe Lord Mayor?"
"Yes. I suppose it's an old City custom, you know. Anyhow they alwaysdine with the Lord Mayor. That's what they die of."
"And now I have something to tell you, Lucy," said Mrs. Haggard. "It'sall been decided. After the Christmas festivities at the Castle we areto go to Rome, and we hope you will come too."
Lucy clapped her hands with girlish glee. "Go with you, Georgie dear? Ofcourse I will. How good of you to ask me." The girl was evidentlydelighted.
"And have you the heart, Miss Warrender, to leave me, Mr. Sleek, andyour other countless admirers, here in England to 'dree our wearyweirds alone?'"
And so the idle talk ran on. The Italian trip was discussed, andconsiderable ignorance of geography was, as is usual, manifested by allpresent. Lucy expressed her disappointment, on being informed that therewere now no brigands in Italy, save those behind the shop counters, orin the choruses of the opera.
A trim maid then brought in the tea equipage, and Georgie did thehonours with her usual unaffected grace.
And now Parson Dodd and his sister were announced. The Dodds presented arather dishevelled appearance. They, too, had seen the Lord Mayor'sShow. But the vicar, in a moment of weakness, had yielded to Anastatia'swish to see something of the real Londoner, whom "dear Dickens hasdescribed so well," as she had put it.
Great had been her indignation at the want of respect shown to theReverend John Dodd's cloth. With horror she had heard her brotheraddressed by a disreputable costermonger in a mangy fur cap, as "Oldpal." And though the Reverend John stood all unmoved in the surgingcrowd, muscular pillar of the Church that he was, it was only byclutching him very tightly that poor Anastatia preserved herself fromannihilation. She had seen the Lord Mayor's Show indeed, but at what aprice! The long grey cloak which she wore, a sort of semi-religious garbwhich Miss Dodd, as a clergyman's sister, affected, had been splashedwith mud and creased into a thousand wrinkles. Her maiden feet, whichhad never felt the sacrilegious touch of the toe of obtrusiveappreciation, had been trampled on by an exhilarated London mob. Andafter several hours of agony, just as the Lord Mayor was actuallypassing, she had heard and felt a horrid rending, crackling sound, andhad almost shrieked into her awe-stricken brother's ear, "Oh, Jack, I'mgone at the gathers!" What she meant neither the Reverend John Dodd, orany other male person, could ever truly know. But evidently somethingdreadful had occurred. "Take me back, Jack; take me back to Mrs.Haggard's at once," the poor little woman had pleaded to the parson. Hegot her into a cab at last, and they had reached the Haggards' house inMay Fair, at which, they were stopping for the night. But GeorgieHaggard came to the poor lady's rescue; she and her cousin bore her offto her hostess's own quarters, where she detailed her sufferings totheir sympathizing ears. Eau de Cologne was duly dabbed upon hertemples, strong tea was administered, but at length the wounded feelingsof the vicar's sister found vent in a little gentle fit of sobbing, andshe was accordingly put to bed.
"What possessed me I can't imagine," said the Reverend Jack to his twomale friends; "we were quite comfortable at first, you know," said poorJumbo, warm with the remembrance of his numerous humiliations. "I hadput Anastatia on a bench; the man made an exceedingly moderate charge ofthreepence. I gave him sixpence, and strange to say he had no change. Ididn't like to be done; the man urged me to occupy one place that wasyet vacant; my evil genius prompted me to do so. Alas! I had no soonerstepped upon the frail structure when it suddenly and unaccountab
ly gaveway in the middle. I was precipitated to the ground in a sittingposture. Anastatia was fortunately unhurt, but she was much frightened.Those who had paid for the use of the bench demanded their money _fromme_; while the miserable proprietor, who had previously been mostrespectful, in a truculent manner, and with horrible menaces, claimed asovereign, and on my declining to comply with his extortionate demand,he actually offered to fight me, me a clergyman of the Church ofEngland. From a sense of justice, I hastened to remunerate those who hadbeen deprived of their coign of vantage, but, alas! the claimants wereinnumerable; every man and boy in my vicinity declared that he had paidfor a place. The mob cheered me with derisive epithets. The climax wasreached when a most offensive policeman in a dictatorial manner orderedme to 'Move on.' The Church of England, in my person, was ordered to'move on.' I attempted to remonstrate, but I and the proprietor of thebroken bench were both suddenly propelled by the Jack in-office into abye street, and I discovered, to my horror, that I had lost Anastatia.Of course I had to satisfy the ruffian's insolent demands, but I did sounder protest. The officer, however, now became more civil, and I,fortunately, with his assistance, was able to rescue my sister from themob. I _will_ take another cup of tea, if you please. Thank you, threelumps. I _have_ seen the Lord Mayor's Show, never again will I assist atthat degrading spectacle."
In vain did Haggard and Lord Spunyarn attempt to reassure the indignantvicar. Only on the return of Mrs. Haggard and Lucy did the Reverend JohnDodd become comparatively tranquil. Under the soothing influence ofbeauty, however, the vicar forgot his woes.