Tales of two people

“Do you think that we can find a hansom cab?” asked the young lady a little anxiously. “You see, my aunt – ”

“Precisely,” said the Duke, and he quickened his pace.

They soon reached the boundary of the Heath, and, having walked a little way along the road, were so fortunate as to find a cab. The young lady held out her left hand to the Duke: in her right she still grasped firmly the Queen Bess flagon.

“Good-bye,” she said. “Thank you for the beautiful present.”

The Duke took her hand and allowed his glance to rest for a moment on her face. She appeared to see a question in his eyes.

“Yes, and for rescuing me from that man,” she added with a little shudder.

The Duke’s glance still rested on her face.

“Yes, and for lots of fun,” she whispered with a blush.

The Duke looked away, sighed, released her hand, helped her into the cab, and retired to a distance of some yards. The young lady spoke a few words to the cabman, took her seat, waved a small hand, held up the Queen Bess flagon, kissed it, and drove away.

“If,” observed the Duke with a sigh, “I were not a well-bred man, I should have asked her name,” and he made his way back to his house in a somewhat pensive mood.

On reaching home, however, he perceived the brougham standing before his door. A new direction was thus given to his meditations. He opened the gate of his stable-yard, and, taking the horse’s head, led it in. Having unharnessed it, he put it in the stable and fed and watered it; the brougham he drew into the coach-house. Then he went indoors, partook of some brandy mixed with water, and went to bed.

At eleven o’clock the next morning Frank, the Duke’s man, came up to Hampstead to attend to his Grace’s wants. The Duke was still in bed, but, on breakfast being ready, he rose and came downstairs in his dressing-gown and a pair of large and very easy slippers.

“I hope your Grace slept well?” said Frank.

“I never passed a better night, thank you, Frank,” said the Duke as he chipped the top off his egg.

“Half-an-hour ago, your Grace,” Frank continued, “a man called.”

“To see me?”

“It was about – about a brougham, your Grace.”

“Ah! What did you say to him?”

“I said I had no orders about a brougham from your Grace.”

“Quite right, Frank, quite right,” said the Duke with a smile. “What did he say to that?”

“He appeared to be put out, but said that he would call again, your Grace.”

“Very good,” said the Duke, rising and lighting a cigarette.

Frank lingered uneasily near the door.

“Is anything the matter, Frank?” asked the Duke kindly.

“Well, your Grace, in – in point of fact, there is – there is a strange brougham and a strange horse in the stables, your Grace.”

“In what respect,” asked the Duke, “are the brougham and the horse strange, Frank?”

“I – I should say, your Grace, a brougham and a horse that I have not seen before in your Grace’s stables.”

“That is a very different thing, Frank,” observed the Duke with a patient smile. “I suppose that I am at liberty to acquire a brougham and a horse if it occurs to me to do so?”

“Of course, your Grace,” stammered Frank.

“I will drive into town in that brougham to-day, Frank,” said the Duke.

Frank bowed and withdrew. The Duke strolled to the window and stood looking out as he smoked his cigarette.

“I don’t think the man will call again,” said he. Then he drew from his pocket the ten-pound note that the young man had given him, and regarded it thoughtfully. “A brougham, a horse, ten pounds, and a very diverting experience,” he mused. “Yes, I am in better spirits this morning!”

As for the Queen Bess flagon, he appeared to have forgotten all about it.

THE DUKE’S ALLOTMENT

I

THE Duke of Belleville (nothing annoyed his Grace more than to hear his name mispronounced – it should sound “Bevvle”) was tired of it all. That succinctly expresses his condition; and the condition is really not to be wondered at after fifteen years of an existence such as his, although it is true that he had occasionally met with some agreeable and even some unexpected adventures. He wanted a new sensation, a new experience, a new environment, although it was possible that he would not want any of them for very long. He consulted his man Frank on the matter one evening at dinner.

“When I felt like that as a lad, your Grace,” Frank remarked, “my father used to put me to digging.”

“Excellent, Frank! Buy me a labourer’s allotment to-morrow morning.”

“Very good, your Grace,” said Frank.

He was an invaluable servant, although at times, the Duke would complain, lacking in imagination.

“Have you got it, Frank?” said the Duke the next morning at lunch.

“Yes, your Grace. And I thought it well also to obtain a cottage.”

“Very thoughtful! Clothes?”

“I thought that perhaps your Grace would prefer to give your personal – ”

“Quite right, Frank. I’ll go to Clarkson’s to-morrow.”

“I beg your Grace’s pardon – am I to accompany your Grace?”

“I do not propose to dig all night, nor even after sunset. Men on allotments eat, I am given to suppose!”

“I beg your Grace’s pardon.”

“Never mind, Frank. In the evening we shall be as usual. Give the necessary orders. Neither you nor the chef will, of course, be visible.”

“Very good, your Grace.” Frank placed the coffee and old brandy on the table, and withdrew.