The Hillman by E. Phillips Oppenheim
XI
The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent with the lingeringodors of many dinners. Yet Louise, who had dined on the precedingevening at the Ritz and been bored, whose taste in food and environmentwas almost hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found the cuisine andthe Chianti excellent.
"We are outstaying every one else," she declared; "and I don't even mindtheir awful legacy of tobacco-smoke. Do you see that the waiter hasbrought you the bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a shock. It isfortunate that you are a millionaire!"
John laughed as he paid the bill and ludicrously overtipped the waiter.
"London must be a paradise to the poor man!" he exclaimed. "I have neverdined better."
"Don't overdo it," Sophy begged.
"I can only judge by results," John insisted. "I have dined, and I amhappy; therefore, the dinner must have been good."
"You are so convincing!" Sophy murmured. "There is such a finality aboutyour statements that I would not venture to dispute them. But rememberthat your future entertainment is in the hands of two women, one of whomis a deserving but struggling young artist without the means ofgratifying her expensive tastes. There are heaps of places we are goingto take you to which even Louise pretends she cannot afford. It is sofortunate, Mr. Strangewey, that you are rich!"
"I believe you would be just as nice to me if I weren't," John ventured.
"I am so susceptible!" Sophy sighed, looking into her empty coffee-cup;"much more susceptible than Louise."
"I won't have Mr. Strangewey spoiled," Louise put in. "And don't buildtoo much upon his being content with us as entertainers-in-chief.Remember the halfpenny papers. In a few days he will beinterviewed--'Millionaire Farmer Come to London to Spend His Fortune.'He will become famous. He will buy a green morocco engagement-book, andperhaps employ a secretary. We shall probably have to ask ourselves toluncheon three weeks ahead."
"I feel these things coming," John declared.
"My children," said Louise, rising, "we must remember that we are goingto the Palace. It is quite time we started."
They made their way down two flights of narrow stairs into the street.The commissionnaire raised his whistle to his lips, but Louise stoppedhim.
"We will walk," she suggested. "This way, Mr. Strangewey!"
They passed down the long, narrow street, with its dingy foreign cafesand shops scarcely one of which seemed to be English. The people whothronged the pavements were of a new race to John, swarthy, a littlefurtive, a class of foreigner seldom seen except in alien lands. Men andwomen in all stages of dishabille were leaning out of the windows orstanding on the doorsteps. The girls whom they met occasionally--youngwomen of all ages, walking arm in arm, with shawls on their heads inplace of hats--laughed openly in John's face.
"Conquests everywhere he goes!" Louise sighed. "We shall never keep him,Sophy!"
"We have him for this evening, at any rate," Sophy replied contentedly;"and he hasn't spent all his fortune yet. I am not at all sure that Ishall not hint at supper when we come out of the Palace."
"No hint will be necessary," John promised. "I feel the gnawings ofhunger already."
"A millionaire's first night in London!" Sophy exclaimed. "I think Ishall write it up for the _Daily Mail_."
"A pity he fell into bad hands so quickly," Louise laughed. "Here weare! Stalls, please, Mr. Millionaire. I wouldn't be seen to-night in theseats of the mighty."
John risked a reproof, however, and was fortunate enough to find adisengaged box.
"The tone of the evening," Louise grumbled, as she settled herself downcomfortably, "is lost. This is the most expensive box in the place."
"You could restore it by eating an orange," Sophy suggested.
"Or even chocolates," John ventured, sweeping most of the contents of anattendant's tray onto the ledge of the box.
"After this," Sophy declared, falling upon them, "supper will be afarce."
"Make you thirsty," John reminded her.
They devoted their attention to the show, Louise and Sophy at first withonly a moderate amount of interest, John with the real enthusiasm of oneto whom everything is new. His laughter was so hearty, his appreciationso sincere, that his companions found it infectious, and began toapplaud everything.
"What children we are!" Louise exclaimed. "Fancy shrieking with laughterat a ventriloquist whom I have seen at every music-hall I have been toduring the last five or six years!"
"He was wonderfully clever, all the same," John insisted.
"The bioscope," Louise decided firmly, "I refuse to have anything to dowith. You have had all the entertainment you are going to have thisevening, Mr. Countryman."
"Now for supper, then," he proposed.
Sophy sighed as she collected the half-empty chocolate-boxes.
"What a pity I've eaten so many! They'd have saved me a luncheonto-morrow."
"Greedy child," Louise laughed, "sighing for want of an appetite! Ithink we'll insist upon a taxi this time. I don't like overcrowdedstreets. Where shall we take him to, Sophy? You know the supper placesbetter than I do."
"Luigi's," Sophy declared firmly. "The only place in London."
They drove toward the Strand. John looked around him with interest asthey entered the restaurant.
"I've been here before," he said, as they passed through the doors.
"Explain yourself at once," Louise insisted.
"It was eight years ago, when I was at Oxford," he told them. "We werehere on the boat-race night. I remember," he added reminiscently, "thatsome of us were turned out. Then we went on to--"
"Stop!" Louise interrupted sternly. "I am horrified! The one thing I didnot suspect you of, Mr. Strangewey, was a past."
"Well, it isn't a very lurid one," he assured them. "That was verynearly the only evening about town I have ever been guilty of."
Luigi, who had come forward to welcome Sophy, escorted them to one ofthe best tables.
"You must be very nice to this gentleman, Luigi," she said. "He is avery great friend of mine, just arrived in London. He has come up onpurpose to see me, and we shall probably decide to make this ourfavorite restaurant."
"I shall be vairy happy," Luigi declared, with a bow.
"I am beginning to regret, Mr. Strangewey, that I ever introduced you toSophy," Louise remarked, as she sank back into her chair. "You won'tbelieve that all my friends are as frivolous as this, will you?"
"They aren't," Sophy proclaimed confidently. "I am the one person whosucceeds in keeping Louise with her feet upon the earth. She has neverhad supper here before. Dry biscuits, hot milk, and a volume of poemsare her relaxation after the theater. She takes herself too seriously."
"I wonder if I do!" Louise murmured, as she helped herself to caviar.
She was suddenly pensive. Her eyes seemed to be looking out of therestaurant. Sophy was exchanging amenities with a little party offriends at the next table.
"One must sometimes be serious," John remarked, "or life would have nopoise at all."
"I have a friend who scolds me," she confided. "Sometimes he almostloses patience with me. He declares that my attitude toward life is tooanalytical. When happiness comes my way, I shrink back. I keep myemotions in the background, while my brain works, dissecting, wondering,speculating. Perhaps what he says is true. I believe that if one getsinto the habit of analyzing too much, one loses all elasticity ofemotion, the capacity to recognize and embrace the great things whenthey come."
"I think you have been right," John declared earnestly. "If the greatthings come as they should come, they are overwhelming, they will carryyou off your feet. You will forget to speculate and to analyze.Therefore, I think you have been wise and right to wait. You have run norisk of having to put up with the lesser things."
She leaned toward him across the rose-shaded table. For those fewseconds they seemed to have been brought into a wonderfully intimatecommunion of thought. A wave of her hair almost touched his forehe
"You talk," she whispered, "as if we were back upon your hilltops oncemore!"
He turned his head toward the little orchestra, which was playing a lowand tremulous waltz tune.
"I want to believe," he said, "that you can listen to the music here andyet live upon the hilltops."
"You believe that it is possible?"
"I do indeed," he assured her. "Although my heart was almost sick withloneliness, I do not think that I should be here if I did not believeit. I have not come for anything else, for any lesser things, but tofind--"
For once his courage failed him. For once, too, he failed to understandher expression. She had drawn back a little, her lips were quivering.Sophy broke suddenly in upon that moment of suspended speech.
"I knew how it would be!" she exclaimed. "I leave you both alone forless than a minute, and there you sit, as grave as two owls. I ask you,now, is this the place to wander off into the clouds? When two peoplesit looking at each other as you were doing a minute ago, here inLuigi's, at midnight, with champagne in their glasses, and a supper,ordered regardless of expense, on the table before them, they are eitherwithout the least sense of the fitness of things, or else--"
"Or else what?" Louise asked.
"Or else they are head over heels in love with each other!" Sophyconcluded.
"Perhaps the child is right," Louise assented tolerantly, taking a peachfrom the basket by her side. "Evidently it is our duty to abandonourselves to the frivolity of the moment. What shall we do to bringourselves into accord with it? Everybody seems to be behaving mostdisgracefully. Do you think it would contribute to the gaiety of theevening if I were to join in the chorus of 'You Made Me Love You,' andMr. Strangewey were to imitate the young gentleman at the next table andthrow a roll, say, at that portly old gentleman with the highly polishedshirt-front?"
"There is no need to go to extremes," Sophy protested. "Besides, weshould get into trouble. The portly old gentleman happens to be one ofthe directors."
"Then we will just talk nonsense," Louise suggested.
"I am not very good at it," John sighed; "and there is so much I want tosay that isn't nonsense."
"You ought to be thankful all your life that you have met me and that Iam disposed to take an interest in you," Sophy remarked, as she movedher chair a little nearer to John's. "I am quite sure that in a veryshort time you would have become--well, almost a prig. Providence hasselected me to work out your salvation."
"Providence has been very kind, then," John told her.
"I hope you mean it," she returned. "You ought to, if you onlyunderstood the importance of light-heartedness."
The lights were lowered a few minutes later, and John paid the bill.
"We've enjoyed our supper," Louise whispered, as they passed down theroom. "The whole evening has been delightful!"
"May I drive you home alone?" he asked bluntly.
"I am afraid we can't desert Sophy," she replied, avoiding his eyes."She nearly always goes home with me. You see, although she seems quitea frivolous little person, she is really very useful to me--keeps myaccounts, and all that sort of thing."
"And does her best," Sophy joined in, "to protect you against yourruinously extravagant habits!"
Louise laughed. They were standing in the little hall, and thecommissionnaire was blowing his whistle for a taxi.
"I won't be scolded to-night," she declared. "Come, you shall both ofyou drive home with me, and then Mr. Strangewey can drop you at yourrooms on his way back."
Sophy made a little grimace and glanced up at John anxiously. He waslooking very big and very grim.
"Shall you mind that?" she asked.
A slight plaintiveness in her tone dispelled his first disappointment.After all, it was Louise's decision.
"I will try to bear it cheerfully," he promised, smiling, as he handedthem into the cab.