Dual Control Page 2

course, ifyou don't wish to please me--"

  She turned away, and Mr. Sharp, plucking up spirit, ventured to take herhand and squeeze it. A faint, a very faint, squeeze in return decidedhim.

  "It will come all right afterwards," said Miss Garland, "especially withthe hold it will give aunt over him."

  "I hope so," said the young man. "If not, I shall be far--farther offthan ever."

  Miss Garland blushed and, turning her head, gazed steadily at the river.

  "Trust me," she said at last. "Me and auntie."

  Mr. Sharp said that so long as he pleased her nothing else mattered, and,in the seventh heaven of delight, paced slowly along the towpath by herside.

  "And you mustn't mind what auntie and I say to you," said the girl,continuing her instructions. "We must keep up appearances, you know; andif we seem to be angry, you must remember we are only pretending."

  Mr. Sharp, with a tender smile, said that he understood perfectly.

  "And now I had better go," said Florrie, returning the smile. "Unclemight see us together, or somebody else might see us and tell him.Good-bye."

  She shook hands and went off, stopping three times to turn and wave herhand. In a state of bewildered delight Mr. Sharp continued his stroll,rehearsing, as he went, the somewhat complicated and voluminousinstructions she had given him.

  By Wednesday evening he was part-perfect, and, in a state of mind dividedbetween nervousness and exaltation, set out for Mr. Culpepper's. Hefound that gentleman, dressed in his best, sitting in an easy-chair withhis hands folded over a fancy waistcoat of startling design, and, placinga small box of small cigars on his knees, wished him the usual "HappyReturns." The entrance of the ladies, who seemed as though they had justcome off the ice, interrupted Mr. Culpepper's thanks.

  "Getting spoiled, that's what I am," he remarked, playfully. "See thiswaistcoat? My old Aunt Elizabeth sent it this morning."

  He leaned back in his chair and glanced down in warm approval. "Themissis gave me a pipe, and Florrie gave me half a pound of tobacco. AndI bought a bottle of port wine myself, for all of us."

  He pointed to a bottle that stood on the supper-table, and, the ladiesretiring to the kitchen to bring in the supper, rose and placed chairs.A piece of roast beef was placed before him, and, motioning Mr. Sharp toa seat opposite Florrie, he began to carve.

  "Just a nice comfortable party," he said, genially, as he finished."Help yourself to the ale, Bert."

  Mr. Sharp, ignoring the surprise on the faces of the ladies, complied,and passed the bottle to Mr. Culpepper. They drank to each other, andagain a flicker of surprise appeared on the faces of Mrs. Culpepper andher niece. Mr. Culpepper, noticing it, shook his head waggishly at Mr.Sharp.

  "He drinks it as if he likes it," he remarked.

  "I do," asserted Mr. Sharp, and, raising his glass, emptied it, andresumed the attack on his plate. Mr. Culpepper unscrewed the top ofanother bottle, and the reckless Mr. Sharp, after helping himself, made ashort and feeling speech, in which he wished Mr. Culpepper long life andhappiness. "If you ain't happy with Mrs. Culpepper," he concluded,gallantly, "you ought to be."

  Mr. Culpepper nodded and went on eating in silence until, the keen edgeof his appetite having been taken off, he put down his knife and fork andwaxed sentimental.

  "Been married over thirty years," he said, slowly, with a glance at hiswife, "and never regretted it."

  "Who hasn't?" inquired Mr. Sharp.

  "Why, me," returned the surprised Mr. Culpepper.

  Mr. Sharp, who had just raised his glass, put it down again and smiled.It was a faint smile, but it seemed to affect his host unfavourably.

  "What are you smiling at?" he demanded.

  "Thoughts," said Mr. Sharp, exchanging a covert glance with Florrie."Something you told me the other day."

  Mr. Culpepper looked bewildered. "I'll give you a penny for themthoughts," he said, with an air of jocosity.

  Mr. Sharp shook his head. "Money couldn't buy 'em," he said, with owlishsolemnity, "espec--especially after the good supper you're giving me."

  "Bert," said Mr. Culpepper, uneasily, as his wife sat somewhat erect"Bert, it's my birthday, and I don't grudge nothing to nobody; but goeasy with the beer. You ain't used to it, you know."

  "What's the matter with the beer?" inquired Mr. Sharp. "It tastes allright--what there is of it."

  "It ain't the beer; it's you," explained Mr. Culpepper.

  Mr. Sharp stared at him. "Have I said anything I oughtn't to?" heinquired.

  Mr. Culpepper shook his head, and, taking up a fork and spoon, began toserve a plum-pudding that Miss Garland had just placed on the table.

  "What was it you said I was to be sure and not tell Mrs. Culpepper?"inquired Mr. Sharp, dreamily. "I haven't said that, have I?"

  "No!" snapped the harassed Mr. Culpepper, laying down the fork and spoonand regarding him ferociously. "I mean, there wasn't anything. I mean,I didn't say so. You're raving."

  "If I did say it, I'm sorry," persisted Mr. Sharp. "I can't say fairerthan that, can I?"

  "You're all right," said Mr. Culpepper, trying, but in vain, to exchangea waggish glance with his wife.

  "I didn't say it?" inquired Mr. Sharp.

  "No," said Mr. Culpepper, still smiling in a wooden fashion.

  "I mean the other thing?" said Mr. Sharp, in a thrilling whisper.

  "Look here," exclaimed the overwrought Mr. Culpepper; "why not eat yourpudding, and leave off talking nonsense? Nobody's listening to you."

  "Speak for yourself," said his wife, tartly. "I like to hear Mr. Sharptalk. What was it he told you not to tell me?"

  Mr. Sharp eyed her mistily. "I--I can't tell you," he said, slowly.

  "Why not?" asked Mrs. Culpepper, coaxingly.

  "Because it--it would make your hair stand on end," said the industriousMr. Sharp.

  "Nonsense," said Mrs. Culpepper, sharply.

  "He said it would," said Mr. Sharp, indicating his host with his spoon,"and he ought--to know-- Who's that kicking me under the table?"

  Mr. Culpepper, shivering with wrath and dread, struggled for speech."You'd better get home, Bert," he said at last. "You're not yourself.There's nobody kicking you under the table. You don't know what you aresaying. You've been dreaming things. I never said anything of thekind."

  "Memory's gone," said Mr. Sharp, shaking his head at him. "Clean gone.Don't you remember--"

  "NO!" roared Mr. Culpepper.

  Mr. Sharp sat blinking at him, but his misgivings vanished before theglances of admiring devotion which Miss Garland was sending in hisdirection. He construed them rightly not only as a reward, but as anincentive to further efforts. In the midst of an impressive silence Mrs.Culpepper collected the plates and, producing a dish of fruit from thesideboard, placed it upon the table.

  "Help yourself, Mr. Sharp," she said, pushing the bottle of port towardshim.

  Mr. Sharp complied, having first, after several refusals, put a littleinto the ladies' glasses, and a lot on the tablecloth near Mr. Culpepper.Then, after a satisfying sip or two, he rose with a bland smile andannounced his intention of making a speech.

  "But you've made one," said his host, in tones of fierce expostulation.

  "That--that was las' night," said Mr. Sharp. "This is to-night--yourbirthday."

  "Well, we don't want any more," said Mr. Culpepper.

  Mr. Sharp hesitated. "It's only his fun," he said, looking round andraising his glass. "He's afraid I'm going to praise him up--praise himup. Here's to my old friend, Mr. Culpepper: one of the best. We allhave our--faults, and he has his--has his. Where was I?"

  "Sit down," growled Mr. Culpepper.

  "Talking about my husband's faults," said his wife.

  "So I was," said Mr. Sharp, putting his hand to his brow. "Don't bealarm'," he continued, turning to his host; "nothing to be alarm' about.I'm not going to talk about 'em. Not so silly as that, I hope. I don'twant spoil your life."

 
"Sit down," repeated Mr. Culpepper.

  "You're very anxious he should sit down," said his wife, sharply.

  "No, I'm not," said Mr. Culpepper; "only he's talking nonsense."

  Mr. Sharp, still on his legs, took another sip of port and, avoiding theeye of Mr. Culpepper, which was