Part 137 (2/2)
”Yes, John--a thousand times, yes! For look you, as I have proved you the best valet in the world--so have I proved you a man, and it is the man I need now, because--I am a failure.”
”No, no!”
”Yes, John. In London I attempted the impossible, and today I--return home, a failure. Consequently the future looms rather dark before me, John, and at such times a tried friend is a double blessing. So, come with me, John, and help me to face the future as a man should.”
”Ah, sir,” answered Peterby, with his sudden radiant smile, ”darkness cannot endure, and if the future brings its sorrows, so must it bring its joys. Surely the future stands for hope and--I think--happiness!”
Now as he ended, Peterby raised one hand with forefinger outstretched; and, looking where he pointed, Barnabas beheld--the little shoe. But when he glanced up again, Peterby was gone.
CHAPTER LXXVI
HOW THE VISCOUNT PROPOSED A TOAST
”Oh--hif you please, sir!”
Barnabas started, raised his head, and, glancing over his shoulder, beheld Milo of Crotona. He was standing in the middle of the room looking very cherubic, very natty, and very upright of back; and he stared at Barnabas with his innocent blue eyes very wide, and with every one of the eight winking, twinkling, glittering b.u.t.tons on his small jacket--indeed, it seemed to Barnabas that to-day his b.u.t.tons were rather more knowing than usual, if that could well be.
Therefore Barnabas dropped his table-napkin, very adroitly, upon a certain object that yet lay upon the table before him, ere he turned about and addressed himself to the Viscount's diminutive ”tiger.”
”What, my Imp,” said he, ”where in the world have you sprung from, pray? I didn't see you come in.”
”No, sir--'cause you jest 'appened to be lookin' at that there little boot, you did.” Thus Master Milo, and his eyes were guileless as an angel's, but--his b.u.t.tons--!
”Hum!” said Barnabas, rubbing his chin. ”But how did you get in, Imp?”
”Froo de winder, sir, I did. An' I 've come to tell you 'is Luds.h.i.+p's compliments, and 'e's a-comin' along wiv 'er, 'e is.”
”With--whom?”
”Wiv my lady--'er.”
”What lady?”
”Wiv 'is Luds.h.i.+p's lady, 'is Vi-coun-tess,--'er.”
”His Viscountess!” repeated Barnabas, staring, ”do you mean that the Viscount is--actually married?”
”'T ain't my fault, sir--no fear, it ain't. 'E went and done it be'ind my back--s'morning as ever was, 'e did. I didn't know nothin' about it till it was too late, 'e done it unbeknownst to me, sir, 'e did, an'
she done it too a' course, an' the Yurl went an' 'elped 'em to do it, 'e did. So did the Cap'n, and the Doochess an' Lady Cleone--they all 'elped 'em to do it, they did. An' now they're goin' into the country, to Deven'am, an' I'm a-goin' wiv 'em--an' they're a-drivin' over to see you, sir, in 'is Luds.h.i.+p's noo phayton--an' that's all--no, it ain't though.”
”What more, Imp?”
”Why, as they all come away from the church--where they'd been a-doin' of it, sir--I met the little, old Doochess in 'er coach, an'
she see me, too. 'Why it's the little Giant!' she sez. 'Best respex, mam,' I sez, an' then I see as she'd got Lady Cleone wiv 'er--a fine, 'igh-steppin', 'andsome young filly, I call 'er, an' no error.
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