Tales of two people

“A part, Monsieur le Duc?”

“There’s a lady in the case, Alphonse.”

“Everything explains itself!” cried Alphonse, looking as though he might be about to throw himself on the Duke’s bosom. “And she loves ze shrimp?”

“Adores it.”

“It is not to be had in this wilderness, I fear.”

“No, Alphonse. Go and get it – at Greenwich, or Wapping, or wherever it lives. Leave at once. Be back at six-thirty. Good-bye, Alphonse.”

“A lady in the case! I will find ze shrimp!” said Alphonse, as he left the parlour.

Frank remained to be dealt with. The Duke summoned him, and addressed him with a serious air.

“You are attached to me, Frank?”

“Yes, your Grace.”

“I wish to be alone to-day. Have the goodness to occupy Mrs Hordern’s attention.”

“I don’t rightly know how to do it, your Grace.”

“What day of the week is it?”

“Sunday, your Grace.”

“A fortunate circumstance. One doesn’t dig on Sundays?”

“No, your Grace.”

“The rain may stop for all I care,” said the Duke. “Go and call on Mrs Hordern, Frank, and get taken to church. Mitigate your mental inferiority to a reasonable extent; and say that the man with the fever has been removed.”

“How, your Grace?” asked Frank.

“Don’t trouble me with details. Do as I tell you.”

“Very good, your Grace.”

“And let Miss Hordern arrive here at seven a’clock.”

“Yes, your Grace.”

“That will do, Frank. I shall not go out to-day. Leave the corduroys on the bed.”

“Thank you, your Grace.”

“And, Frank, in case I change my mind, let there be a motor-car here and a table at the Savoy this evening, rather late.”

“I’ll attend to it at once, your Grace.”

There was more work than usual at the local telegraph office before ten that morning. But no one connected it with the cottage at the allotments. The young woman in charge understood that a gentleman had lost his motor-car.

The simple device of sticking on his door a short notice that a case of infectious disease awaited removal to the workhouse infirmary secured for the Duke a quiet day. He sat behind his blind and observed his neighbours, who, in the intervals left them between the claims of devotion and those of conviviality, inspected their allotments and his. His appeared to the Duke to command a disproportionate amount of attention. He feared that he must have dug up something prematurely – Frank had omitted to acquaint him with the course of husbandry initiated by his predecessor. The laughter of his neighbours somewhat jarred his sensitive spirit. And they certainly stared a lot at his shut door, his forbidding notice, and his blind so carefully drawn. He was also vexed by a sudden thought that, it being Sunday, Miss Angela might have to go to church and would not come to tea.

“However I made my wishes quite clear to Frank,” he murmured, hoping for the best.

At one o’clock Frank returned by a circular route, and entered from the road, through the back-yard, which obviated the necessity of crossing the allotments. He served a cold luncheon.

“You’ve arranged matters?”

“Yes, your Grace. The young lady will call at seven, with some jelly for your bad throat.”

“I was rather afraid she might wish to go to church, Frank.”

“Yes, your Grace; but, as you are too ill to go, the vicar thinks that it will do just as well if she comes and reads the Lessons of the Day to your Grace.”

“That it will do just as well?”

“That was the vicar’s expression, your Grace.”

“Ah, he spoke from a professional point of view, no doubt. The arrangement is quite satisfactory. How did you get on with Mrs Hordern – and at church?”

“I did very well, your Grace, since your Grace is kind enough to inquire. With reference to last night, I explained that my attacks of mental affliction were intermittent, though frequently recurrent. But the doctor is to come and see me to-morrow – by Mrs Hordern’s orders, your Grace.”

“ ‘Sufficient unto the day!’ ” said the Duke serenely. “You will remove that notice from the door as soon as our neighbours have started for evening church – or chapel.”

The afternoon wore itself slowly away, the Duke finding himself afflicted with some degree of ennui. “Is there no situation in life, however humble, however laborious,” he said, “that is free from this plague? It is, indeed, a lesson to me that we should be content with our several stations.” He went to his bedroom, snatched a short repose, and, rising in better heart, assumed his corduroys.

At six-thirty a large motor-car broke down opposite the village inn. The chauffeur announced that the necessary repairs would take some time. He took some time himself, and some refreshment, before he set about them. At six-fifty Frank, returning from a little stroll in the neighbourhood of the inn, reported the arrival of Monsieur Ferdinand, his Grace’s chief chauffeur, and removed the notice from the door of the cottage. He laid tea and withdrew. Everything was ready except the shrimps. There was, as yet, no sign of the shrimps, nor of Monsieur Alphonse.

“It can’t be that Alphonse will fail me!” thought the Duke uneasily. The shrimps, although not absolutely essential, constituted an artistic detail particularly congruous with his taste.

Precisely at seven o’clock he saw Miss Hordern approaching. With enormous pleasure he noted the graceful outline of her figure as she crossed the allotment; with less pleasure he observed that she was accompanied by what is termed a “growing lad” of about fourteen. “These precautions aren’t very complimentary,” thought the Duke.

Her knock sounded on the door. The Duke fell into a doze. She knocked again.

“I do hope he’s not – not queer again to-day,” said Angela.

“The door’s open: let’s go in and look. I’m not afraid.”

He heard them enter the house; he rose and opened the sitting-room door.

“Oh, there you are! Good-evening. May we come in? Mamma would have come and let me go to church, only she’s got such a bad headache that she’s been obliged to go to bed.”

The Duke made no immediate reply. Angela came in, followed by the boy. The boy put down on the table a round parcel which he was carrying.

“Jelly,” thought the Duke.