Part 9 (2/2)

”Certainly, sir.”

”Tall?”

”Nearly as tall as I am, Major.”

”Aye? aye? aye? A good figure?”

”As slim as a sapling, sir, and as upright as a dart.”

”On second thoughts, I am at home, Oliver. Show her in! show her in!”

So far, one thing at least seemed to be clear. I had done well in sending for the chambermaid. What would Oliver's report of me have been if I had presented myself to him with my colorless cheeks and my ill-dressed hair?

The servant reappeared, and conducted me to the inner room. Major Fitz-David advanced to welcome me. What was the Major like?

Well, he was like a well-preserved old gentleman of, say, sixty years old, little and lean, and chiefly remarkable by the extraordinary length of his nose. After this feature, I noticed next his beautiful brown wig; his sparkling little gray eyes; his rosy complexion; his short military whisker, dyed to match his wig; his white teeth and his winning smile; his smart blue frock-coat, with a camellia in the b.u.t.ton-hole; and his splendid ring, a ruby, flas.h.i.+ng on his little finger as he courteously signed to me to take a chair.

”Dear Mrs. Woodville, how very kind of you this is! I have been longing to have the happiness of knowing you. Eustace is an old friend of mine. I congratulated him when I heard of his marriage. May I make a confession?--I envy him now I have seen his wife.”

The future of my life was perhaps in this man's hands. I studied him attentively: I tried to read his character in his face.

The Major's sparkling little gray eyes softened as they looked at me; the Major's strong and st.u.r.dy voice dropped to its lowest and tenderest tones when he spoke to me; the Major's manner expressed, from the moment when I entered the room, a happy mixture of admiration and respect. He drew his chair close to mine, as if it were a privilege to be near me.

He took my hand and lifted my glove to his lips, as if that glove were the most delicious luxury the world could produce. ”Dear Mrs.

Woodville,” he said, as he softly laid my hand back on my lap, ”bear with an old fellow who wors.h.i.+ps your enchanting s.e.x. You really brighten this dull house. It is _such_ a pleasure to see you!”

There was no need for the old gentleman to make his little confession.

Women, children, and dogs proverbially know by instinct who the people are who really like them. The women had a warm friend--perhaps at one time a dangerously warm friend--in Major Fitz-David. I knew as much of him as that before I had settled myself in my chair and opened my lips to answer him.

”Thank you, Major, for your kind reception and your pretty compliment,”

I said, matching my host's easy tone as closely as the necessary restraints on my side would permit. ”You have made your confession. May I make mine?”

Major Fitz-David lifted my hand again from my lap and drew his chair as close as possible to mine. I looked at him gravely and tried to release my hand. Major Fitz-David declined to let go of it, and proceeded to tell me why.

”I have just heard you speak for the first time,” he said. ”I am under the charm of your voice. Dear Mrs. Woodville, bear with an old fellow who is under the charm! Don't grudge me my innocent little pleasures.

Lend me--I wish I could say _give_ me--this pretty hand. I am such an admirer of pretty hands! I can listen so much better with a pretty hand in mine. The ladies indulge my weakness. Please indulge me too. Yes? And what were you going to say?”

”I was going to say, Major, that I felt particularly sensible of your kind welcome because, as it happens, I have a favor to ask of you.”

I was conscious, while I spoke, that I was approaching the object of my visit a little too abruptly. But Major Fitz-David's admiration rose from one climax to another with such alarming rapidity that I felt the importance of administering a practical check to it. I trusted to those ominous words, ”a favor to ask of you,” to administer the check, and I did not trust in vain. My aged admirer gently dropped my hand, and, with all possible politeness, changed the subject.

”The favor is granted, of course!” he said. ”And now, tell me, how is our dear Eustace?”

”Anxious and out of spirits.” I answered.

”Anxious and out of spirits!” repeated the Major. ”The enviable man who is married to You anxious and out of spirits? Monstrous! Eustace fairly disgusts me. I shall take him off the list of my friends.”

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