Part 15 (1/2)

Kipps sat on his tin box under the gas bracket that evening, and looked up the name Euphemia and learnt what it meant in the ”Enquire Within About Everything” that const.i.tuted Buggins' reference library. He hoped Buggins, according to his habit, would ask him what he was looking for, but Buggins was busy turning out his week's was.h.i.+ng. ”Two collars,” said Buggins, ”half pair socks, two d.i.c.keys. s.h.i.+rt?... M'm. There ought to be another collar somewhere.”

”Euphemia,” said Kipps at last, unable altogether to keep to himself this suspicion of a high origin that floated so delightfully about him, ”Eu--phemia; it isn't a name _common_ people would give to a girl, is it?”

”It isn't the name any decent people would give to a girl,” said Buggins, ”----common or not.”

”Lor'!” said Kipps. ”Why?”

”It's giving girls names like that,” said Buggins, ”that nine times out of ten makes 'em go wrong. It unsettles 'em. If ever I was to have a girl, if ever I was to have a dozen girls, I'd call 'em all Jane. Every one of 'em. You couldn't have a better name than that. Euphemia indeed!

What next?... Good Lord!... That isn't one of my collars there, is it?

under your bed?”...

Kipps got him the collar.

”I don't see no great 'arm in Euphemia,” he said as he did so.

After that he became restless. ”I'm a good mind to write that letter,”

he said, and then, finding Buggins preoccupied wrapping his was.h.i.+ng up in the ”half sox,” added to himself, ”a thundering good mind.”

So he got his penny bottle of ink, borrowed the pen from Buggins and with no very serious difficulty in spelling or composition, did as he had resolved.

He came back into the bedroom about an hour afterwards a little out of breath and pale. ”Where you been?” said Buggins, who was now reading the _Daily World Manager_, which came to him in rotation from Carshot.

”Out to post some letters,” said Kipps, hanging up his hat.

”Crib hunting?”

”Mostly,” said Kipps.

”Rather,” he added, with a nervous laugh; ”what else?”

Buggins went on reading. Kipps sat on his bed and regarded the back of the _Daily World Manager_ thoughtfully.

”Buggins,” he said at last.

Buggins lowered his paper and looked.

”I say, Buggins, what do these here advertis.e.m.e.nts mean that say so-and-so will hear of something greatly to his advantage?”

”Missin' people,” said Buggins, making to resume reading.

”How d'yer mean?” asked Kipps. ”Money left and that sort of thing?”

Buggins shook his head. ”Debts,” he said, ”more often than not.”

”But that ain't to his advantage.”

”They put that to get 'old of 'em,” said Buggins. ”Often it's wives.”

”What you mean?”