CHAPTER XVII
IN WHICH WE ARE TAKEN TO VIEW A LITTLE
FLAT IN KNIGHTSBRIDGE
MR. PHILIP felt rather limp after the state visit.
“How happy I should be if I were not the son of my father!” was the somewhat unfilial tenor of his thoughts.
Still, he mustered the courage to take Mary out to lunch, but he didn’t refer to the recent interview with the Proconsul.
“When is your time up at the Lane, old girl?” inquired the vain young man.
“Quite soon now, Phil-ipp.”
“And then what are you doin’?”
“I am going to take Gran’ma to Brighton for a fortnight, and then I’m going to tour the provinces as Lady Agatha in Kind Hearts and Coronets, until Mr. Wingrove’s new play is put into rehearsal at the Millennium.”
Mr. Philip had ordered half a bottle of Number 68, it is rather important to mention, although it had gone up half-a-crown in spite of the fact that some people think it is quite expensive enough already.
“Goin’ to be leadin’ a full life, ain’t you, Polly?”
“Seems like it, doesn’t it, Phil-ipp!”
“Well, I think you ought to turn up those beastly provinces, I do really. You are much too good for ’em. I don’t know much about it, of course, but it seems to me that such art as yours is wasted on the bally provinces.”
“Perhaps you are right, Phil-ipp,” said Mary the demure. “But I love the dear old things.”
“If I were you, Polly, I should never play out of London, if I had to play at all.”
Polly admitted there might be something in this view. Still, she would miss the dear old provinces terribly, and perhaps they might miss her.
And then Number 68 began to display considerable boldness.
“There’s a little flat in Knightsbridge, a toppin’ little hole, that I think we might go round and look at, old girl, don’t you? Very cheap for the position and the landlord will paint it throughout, and we can have possession any time we want it.”
Polly didn’t mind going to look at it, as she rather liked looking over such things.
The flat was charming. A little high up, perhaps, but there were two delightful rooms that overlooked the park. It was one of the most tempting spots in the metropolis. Yet there was one serious drawback, which in the opinion of Philip, however, was almost a merit. It was likely to be much sought after, said the house-agent; any delay in taking it might be fatal. They could only be allowed a week in which to make up their minds.
Yes, the flat was charming, they agreed, as they walked up Piccadilly. And only a week in which to make up their minds! Still, that was rather providential, if you looked at it from Philip’s point of view.
“Wasn’t it, Polly?”
“Why do you think so, Phil-ipp?”
“We’ve got to make up our minds at once, haven’t we?”
“I’ve made up my mind already, Phil-ipp. It is the very place for you; so much moderner and pleasanter and lighter than your chambers.”
“Yes, old girl, but I shouldn’t think of it for a moment without you.”
“Why not, Phil-ipp?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t.”
A bald reason, perchance, but a manly conviction had given it currency.
“But that’s absurd, Phil-ipp. Why should a mere chorus girl—?”
“Look here, Polly,” said the fierce young man, “you mustn’t suppose I’m going to be chipped by you. If I take that flat, you’ve got to come and live in it; and, Polly”—and for all they were just opposite the Burlington Arcade, the vain young man took a firm grip of the arm of Mary the obdurate—“I’m bally well goin’ to take that flat.”
“Are you, Phil-ipp?”
“Yes, and I’m goin’ to take it now.”
“What!—now, Phil-ipp?”
“At once. Come on back to the house-agents.”
“But they are half-a-mile away, Phil-ipp.”
“Never mind; it’s a nice day for a walk.”
“But what about Granny? and what about the great Proconsul; and what about Lady Shelmerdine of Potterhanworth?”
“Oh, let ’em go to blazes—that is, old girl, I beg pardon.”
“I should just hope so. And let go my arm, Phil-ipp; people are looking at us.”
“Well, let’s cut back again.”
“But, Phil-ipp.”
“You said yourself that it was the nicest position in London, and only nine hundred and fifty a year, which seems rather ridiculous, considerin’—”
“Considering what, Phil-ipp?”
“Considerin’ the way they stick you for three rooms and a private bathroom.”
“Yes, Phil-ipp, but then think of the address!”
Never, however, in the whole course of his career, not even when he had scored those three goals against Scotland, had Mr. Philip shown more invincible determination than at this moment. If there was not to be a scene in Piccadilly and a paragraph in the evening papers, Mary would have to do as she was told.
“Phil-ipp, you are behaving anyhow.”
“Less of it, Polly.”
“Less of what, Phil-ipp?”
“Your cheek—you cat.”
Unbridled insolence, which we are sure no girl of refined instincts and decent nurture—do you think so, Madam? All the same, that is the manner in which Phil-ipp admonished her, and her salary was a hundred a week, and was likely to be two hundred presently; and the ex-non-commissioned officer on duty at the entrance to the Burlington Arcade pricked up his ears disapprovingly at such language being used to a lady; and his trained observation told him she was a lady, although her face had rather more powder on it than it ought to have had; and he wondered whether he would have permitted himself to use such language in such circumstances when he was a young chap in the Guards with one stripe a-courtin’ the Missus; and whether the Missus would have had him in spite of his uniform if he had courted her in that way; and whether she wouldn’t have been quite right; and whether anybody knew what things were comin’ to, because he was quite sure that he didn’t. And yes, there the young chap had got hold of her arm again, and, strike his lucky! they were chipping each other like one o’clock; and a dashed pretty girl, and not a bad-looking young chap either. And what were the pair o’ turtledoves—as of course a chap of his experience could see with half an eye—quarrelling about? No, not quarrelling exactly, but chipping each other and cross-talking somewhat. And what was it all about? Why, a flat in Knightsbridge. You ’ave it, miss, and be thankful for the chawnce, and think yourself fortunate, which of course you are; and so is he if he gets you to go and arrange the flowers in the vases for him.
Down the street again they are going now, though, yet still conducting their heated argument. Granny would be furious, and so would Mother. And Father would cut him out of the succession—which of course he couldn’t; and that, perhaps, was almost a pity. She would have to give up the provinces and break her contracts, and everything would be so uncomfortable for everybody—
“Except, old girl, for you and me.”
“But that’s rather selfish, isn’t it, Phil-ipp?”
Phil-ipp dared say it was a little, but yet not altogether, because, after all, it was the way of human nature. Not a very conclusive piece of reasoning, young fellow, but Mistress Polly was bound to admit that, superficial as it was, it would bear thinking upon.
“Be a pal to me, Polly, and I’ll be a pal to you, old girl, and we’ll be as happy as the birds in the springtime; and you’ll see that my people will come round all right, and you’ll see that Granny will forgive you!”
And here they were at the office of Messrs. Thompson and Allardyce in Wilton Place—not so far from the Church. And Phil-ipp informed a polite young man, with quite the Oxford manner, that they’d take that flat on a three years’ lease from Lady Day—and that, my lords and gentlemen, was how the trick was done. For by the time they had bade adieu to the polite young man with the Oxford manner they were as good as married.
At least, Phil-ipp seemed to think they were. A little previous, perhaps, young fellow; but when you are proceeding full steam ahead at rather more than nine knots an hour, you are rather apt to get a little in front of the time-table, are you not?
“That’s the very old thing for us,” said Phil-ipp, waving his hand across at the Church. “And I say, old girl, let us see if we can’t persuade Granny to give a reception at the Hyde Park Hotel; and I’ll persuade old Min Wingrove to bring all the brightest people in London, and we shall rather wipe the eye of No. 88, the corner house, old girl, shan’t we, when they see the pictures in the papers?”
“I shall rather like to see you persuading Granny, though, Phil-ipp, particularly after what has occurred.”
But Phil-ipp affirmed his manly determination to take the risk, especially as Polly desired to bet a shilling that he daren’t.
“Done with you. And I’m hanged if we won’t go right away and tackle her.”
Whereupon the imperious young man, who was revealing a whole gamut of unexpected qualities, bundled Polly straight into a taxi, demanded to be driven to 10 Bedford Gardens—that magic address—and got in himself.
“I say, old girl,” said he, as they sped past the windows of the Button Club, “little Marge can be one of your bridesmaids, can’t she?”
“Goose,” said Mary.
Yes, and a big one, to be scientifically accurate; yet the proudest and happiest young fellow in all the metropolis just now, possessed by the demon of Damn the Consequences.