A Drake by George! Part 19

"You should have been number one," she said reproachfully.

"I had to put Aunt Sophy first, because I cannot arrange my own future while she occupies the house. I don't want to say too much about myself."

"I know," said Nellie sympathetically. "That's your way. But you should try to be a little selfish sometimes."

"You are quite right, Nellie; we must think of our own interests. I have wasted far too much time bothering about Aunt Sophy, Kezia, Bessie--"

"And me!!" cried Nellie. "Do let me come in somewhere."

"Not with them. You come in a cla.s.s by yourself."

"The fourth," she murmured.

"As Aunt Sophy is so good and religious we cannot want her to live on, knowing how much happier she will be in the next world; and then I can settle down as the big man of Highfield--quite the biggest man in the place, and I hope the most respectable. Mr. and Mrs. George Drake, of Windward House, in the parish of Highfield and county of Devon, Esquire, as the lawyers say."

"How unkind! You introduce Mrs. Drake, and then ignore her. You married her at one end of your sentence and divorced her, for no fault whatever, at the other end."

"Married ladies are not credited with separate existences," explained George.

"They generally insist upon taking one."

"By lawyers, I mean. They are not distinct ent.i.ties like spinsters and widows."

"I see: while I am single I have a personality, when I marry I lose it, when I am a widow I regain it. You could not have improved upon that sentence."

"Why not?" asked George.

"In its repet.i.tion of the most important letter in the alphabet. Now for plan number three."

"But I have said nothing about myself yet!" cried George.

"Don't try. You are finding it very disagreeable, I am sure; and after all I can guess. This house ought to be converted into a mansion, and you mean to do it. This village sadly needs a squire, resident magistrate, pillar of uprightness; and you fully intend to supply that want."

George nodded, and hoped she would go on talking like that, blinking after the fas.h.i.+on of a tomcat who has just enjoyed a bowl of cream.

"I have all sorts of plans for my future, but they are not properly arranged yet. Aunt Sophy blocks them all. I am not ambitious," George blundered on, "but I do mean to have a comfortable home, luxurious armchairs, piles of cus.h.i.+ons, deep carpets, felt slippers, and good cigars. I don't care how simple my food is, so long as I have good tobacco, and the very finest tea obtainable. I should like to turn the parlour into a tea house, with a divan at one end where I could lie and smoke--sometimes."

"A dream of Turkish delight!" laughed Nellie. "What is the third plan?"

"Concerning finance, and there I can't be beaten," replied George promptly.

"I thought you were rolling in money."

"It is coming in nicely now," George admitted, "but after a time the flow will cease; while I shall still be spending. The problem before me is how to invest my capital so that I shall be certain of a comfortable income. Government securities are treacherous things, and I have very little confidence in railways. The secret of wealth is to invest your cash in those things which everybody must have. Now every man must buy tobacco and drink beer; they are necessities of life. And every woman must carry an umbrella. What is a woman's princ.i.p.al necessity next to an umbrella?"

"No respectable girl would even think of anything except umbrellas,"

replied Nellie. "But most girls are not respectable, I'm afraid, and, though it is a horrible confession to make, they cannot be happy unless they are constantly supplied with chocolates."

"Is that really the truth?" asked George, with much interest.

"It is, indeed. My kind of girl must have chocolates, just as your kind of man must drink beer."

"Now that you mention it, I seem to remember there are an extraordinarily lot of sweet shops in every town."

"And I should visit them all, just as naturally as you would go into the public houses."

"That's a very valuable suggestion," said George. "I shall invest the whole of my capital in beer, tobacco, umbrellas, and chocolates. You see, Nellie, that will practically cover the prime necessities of either s.e.x. A man goes to work with a pipe in his mouth, and he walks straight into a public-house. A woman comes out with an umbrella, and the first thing she does is to buy chocolates."

"There are sure to be exceptions," said Nellie. "A bishop, for instance, might not go to his cathedral with a pipe in his mouth, while a Cabinet Minister would probably walk straight past several public-houses."

"But they all smoke and drink at home."

"I don't fancy somehow that bishops drink beer."

"Bottled beer," said George eagerly.

"Surely some are teetotallers!"

"Then they drink cocoa, and that's chocolate melted down. On the other hand, plenty of ladies drink beer. You can see them carrying jugs--"

"Not ladies!" cried Nellie.

"Well, charwomen--they are ladies from a business point of view. I can see myself making tons of money," said George delightedly. "If only Aunt Sophy--"

"Do please let the poor old lady live on and enjoy herself. You wouldn't like to be hunted out of the world to suit anybody's plans. And now,"

said Nellie, "we reach the fourth subject, which I flatter myself has some connection with a certain person who is quite used to being regarded as an afterthought."

"Three persons--Kezia, Bessie, Robert. They must go, all of them."

"Really this is the last straw!" cried Nellie. "I was almost certain I should be at least honourably mentioned."

"But I am talking to you, not about you. I'm telling you my secrets--and I wouldn't do that to anyone but you. Nellie, you don't think I am playing with your affections?"

"I'll not listen any longer. I couldn't expect to come first, but I did hope to be placed last."

"If you would walk after dark--"

"I'm not a ghost; besides, I will not be ashamed to stand in the light."

"Then we might talk about something that means love," said George, who, being wound up for that sentence, was bound to finish it.

"Oh, George!" exclaimed one of the parrots.

"I wonder what it would be like," said Nellie, when she had done laughing.

"You teach those birds to say things," he muttered crossly.

"They are so intelligent. That one can say, 'Nellie's the belle of the ball.' Even that sort of compliment is better than none."