"Geoge"

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 138, 13 June 1932, Page 15

"Geoge"

By ... HOLLOWAY HORN.

CHAPTER IX.—(Continued.)

The dinner was satisfying, and they slipped away in time to "pinch" the chairs they ' coveted. Early aa they were, however, the really desirable chairs by the open fire were taken, but they bagged two small armchairs by the radiator and settled down calmly to await coffee.

"Your 'air's a bit strong," Eth said, in rather a doubtful tone. ''I reelly don't think those two old geezers liked it. They sort of sniffed and went away." ' "Let 'em sniff!" George 3iad noticed it as well. "Very nice ecent indeed. What's wrong with violet, anyway V" No one, indeed, took the adjoining chairs, and it became rather pointed when the old gentleman, whom George imagined he had met before, came up and wheeled one of the chairs away. In doing so, ho came into contact with a spindly table on which stood ci vase of flowers. The old gentleman swore audibly and glared at George as he stooped rheumatically to pick up the vaae. ''It's very comfortable 'ere," said George, in his most confident manner. "Most!" agreed Eth, in a very ladylike tone. "I wish we'd been in time to get a coupler chairs near the fire. You know, Eth, I don't like this crowd a bit. S'all very well, but they're too stand-Offish'. 'Oo are they, anyway?" "Search me!" his wife replied, as helpfully as possible. The atmosphere in the drawing room was unmistakable —the waitress noticed it the moment ehc came in with the coffee. "They were all sitting about like a lot of slugs," she asserted afterwards in the kitchen. "None of 'era was talking and those pore honeymoon pair was sitting by the rad'ator. 'E didn't seem to mind—aeked me if the coffee was 'ot, as 'e felt a bit cold, large as life —but I could tell that she didn't like it. And the pore kid's reely pretty when you come to look at 'or. It isn't fair. Why should those greedy old 'ags and thoee fat old frogs of men go on like it? 'Oo arc they, anyway? Major Grigeon was 'olding the evenin' paper as if 'e'd like to bite it. And so smug and respectable. Why, only this morning 'e tried to put 'is arm round my waist. Told the o!e fool orf properly, I did, too."'

"Last night at dinner I 'card the Major tell his wife that the husband looked like a. barber," a second waitress put in. "'E did smell like one to-night. Vi'let! I didn't fancy it meself. Bit too strong. But Vβ better lookin' than any we've 'ad here for a bit, I'll say that for 'im." Upstairs, the atmosphere persisted. Major Grigson was in a thoroughly bad temper. In his judgment, the presence of George and Eth was, in his favourite phrase, an outrage. The maid who had overheard him speaking of George had only caught part of it. He had not said that George looked like a barber, but that he was a barber; moreover, that George had on one occasion cut his hair when he and his wife were staying with friends in Moesford —not that the Major had much hair, anyway. "It'e all part of the Bolshevik tendencies in the lower classes," he had said to his wife. "Wouldn't have been possible before the war. To come to a. place like this and be expected to meet the barber's assistant who cuts your hair!"

"They 6cem very inoffensive, dear," hie vrife had pointed out. "I don't suppose they will be here for more than a. few days. I suppose they are on their honeymoon." "Honeymoon!" snorted the major, as if that niado the whole business far worse. But the plea of inoffensivenese could no longer be sustained even by such a peace-loving lady ae Mrs. Grigson, after George had been shampooed. The diningroom, as the major eaid, "reeked of the damned stuff" and it was insidiously permeating the otherwise chilly atmosphere of the drawing room. George was fully aware of the feeling he had created. Ho was annoyed. He was paying hie way, at least as well ae any of them, and he knew hie rights. Ho had purchaeed that afternoon a pair of patent-leather slippers with bows of black ribbon on them, and he was wearing them with his blue ecrgc. Between the bottom of the trouser leg and the top of the slipper, as he sat with one leg over the other, were several inches of blue sock adorned with white clox. In Georgo's considered opinion the effect was neat and gentlemanly, and there wae not the slightest justification for the major suddenly to look up from his paper, see the neat effect of sock and slipper, ami glare. The major was sitting about eix yards away from George and it was impossible to.miea the glare. So obvious, indeed, was it, that most of the others turned their glance to George's nether extremities. In a moment, as it were, that sock and pump became the focal point, the pivot of the assembly. This wae more than George meant to stand. '"Aβ anything bitten you?" lie demanded angrily. "George!" exclaimed Eth in a terrorstricken voice. "Are you addressing, me?" demanded the major. "I was, an all," said George calmly. "I objec' to you sitting there glaring at me. It's rude. It's —it's ungentlemanly. I've got as much right here as you have." "Confound your impudence! snapped the major. "And confound your impudence, retorted George, who was really angry. "Come on, George, let's go out," urged Eth. . , m . , "Presently," eaid George. Don t you worry, ole girl. I shan't forget myself. But I'm not going to 'ave that silly ole mutt sitting there glaring at me! »I__l shall complain to the management. You—you should not have been admitted." The major had risen, bo had George. , ,„ „ "An' you're a gentleman!' George was saving. "To insult a fellow in front of his wife! If you weren't an ole mar, I'd take vou outside and knock your silly fat face"orf! You been rude to me ever eince I got here." "We won't discuss the matter further," said the major with a tardy effort at dignity. "I shall communicate with the management." "You mind what you're saying. 11l —I'll see my e'licitor." '•Look 'ere, George, I'm going, said Eth. "I'll conie too. But I'm not going because I'm frightened of you." he added to the major. "I bid the ladies and gentlemen J ere good-night!"' With this final thrust he turned and followed Kth out of the •room, leaving Wiind-fl, tense and violet-scented atmosphere.

'•Thank heaven they've gone, any way," said the major.

"I was eorry for them," said a quietvoiced little woman with grey hair. The major glanced sharply at her. "And I thought he held up his end rather bravely," she added. "I'm glad you think so, Madam. Personally, I regard his outburst as an out-

rage." "After all, you were glaring at hi? unhappy pumps, weren't you?" the greyhaired lady 'persisted. She was not in the least frightened of the major, who dominated tho rest of the party. "Tho fellow is a barber's assistant. He has actually cut my hair!" "That operation surely does not place him outside the pale?" Not a smilt touched the lady's lips, but clearly here was a lady with humour at her command, although ehe was living in a. Bournemouth boatding-houee. "It is a matter I prefer not to discuss," the major said, falling back on dignity when he could no longer hold his own with reason.

"That is as you wish," she eaid sweetly. "But I do hope you will not carry out your threat and complain to the management." ''And why, madam ?" "Because if you do, I ehall feel bound, in fairness, to say that I thought the affair was six to one and half a dozen to tho other."

"Indeed!" snorted the major and retired into his paper. The grey-haired lady took up her book, the reading of which had been interrupted by the altercation. By this time, George and Lth were out of the- boarding-houee. "I've meant to tell the ole devil orf, said George. "What right 'ad he got to eit and glare? His eyes seemed almost popping out of his fat 'ed. What right 'ad 'e got to do it?" t "I'm not going to let 'im ups2t me. George sucked his cigarette in a manner that betrayed his agitation. "A gentleman!" he said bitterly. A real gent simply wouldn't 'ave done it! We had many such in the shop. You could always 'tell. That chap's a bully! He thought he could bully me. An' there he found 'e was in error. I reckon I tole 'im orf." "You did that. 'E didn't know which way to look. 'We won't discuse the matter,' he says, which only showed that he couldn't discuss it. The others —the old tabbies—did look surprised when you arst what 'ad bitten 'im." "I bet they did. I was giving 'im glare for glare and didn't notice the others."

"One of 'cm smiled, George. That one sitting at the nex , table to us, alone. She sort of looked up from her book as if she was enjoyin' it. The one that said, 'Good moinin',' I mean." "She's all right," said George. "A lady . . . you can always tell 'em." "Anyway, we're going to see Konald Colman to-night. The following morning at eightfifteen, George, arrayed in his new dressing gown of iridescent silk, wearing his new slippers of the same delightful material, and carrying a new bottle of bath salts and a new sponge bair containing the articles of his toilet, sailied forth from the bedroom in search of a bath. Although the select establishment asserted in its prospectus that it offered all modern conveniences, there was but one bathroom available for Hβ guests. At that hour of the morning, however, there was usually no great demand even for one bathroom, but George found the door locked. He frowned, and was on the point of retreating to his bedroom when he noticed, at the end of the corridor, the commanding and voluminous figure of Major Grigson arrayed in a very comfortable woollen dressing gown. At that moment the bathroom door opened and a large lady hurriedly emerged. "Sorry!" said George, vaguely, although what precisely he was sorry for was not clear.

The Major was bearing down, but George recovered the wits the sudden appearance of the lady had scattered, and beat him by a clear two j\irds. He lacked the door perhaps the least bit more noisily than was necessary, and joyfully imagined the look on the Major's face on the other side. From thie point, it is impossible to defend George's conduct. He knew the Major was waiting, but made no effort to hurry. Before he had finished shaving, he hcayd the Major knocking at the door. "Go away, it's engaged." said George, and turned on the hot tap. The bath salte had been purchased the previous afternoon, and George was taking a bath at an hour that, to him, was unusual, merely because he wanted to see what they were like. Eth had tried them the night before, and pronounced them "lovely." Curiously enough, the dominant aroma of the salte was violet, like the shampoo, and the effect on the waiting Major ae they gradually percolated into the passage was most stimulating. Ultimately. George, very shiny and scented, emerged from the bathroom, and with him clouds of pleasant perfume, i "You're been in there half an hour," snorted the Major. • "Have I?" inquired George pleasantly. "Anyway, you can 'ave it all to yerself now right up to lunch time." . ; The Major pushed' by him rudely, and in doing so caught. George's arm which held the bath salts. Thi bottle, with its contents, weighed perhaps two pounds, and, as ill-luck would have it, fell upon the Major's bare inetep. Major Grigson clenched his fists. "You did that on purpose!" he yelled: "I did it? I like that. You shouldn't have pushed by like you did. No call for it."

Eth was nearly dressed when ho returned. "Where you been?" she demanded. "'Ad more words with the gallopin' major." ''George, you 'aven't?" "I have. Dropped the bol o' bath salts on his silty foot, too. I wish now we'd bought one of those bigger bols. I like bath ealts, Eth." "You'll 'ave to jump about a bit, me lad, if you don't want to be late fer breakfast." "The major'll be later," grinned George. The grey-haired lady smiled at them as they entered the dining room. "A lovely morning, isn't it?" she asked. "Lovely!" agreed Eth. "We're going on a char-a-banc to-day." "You'll have a perfect day for it,"' the lady said. "A lady!" George exclaimed later as he and Eth were strolling down to the char-a-banc. "She's more.- She's- a narristocrat. .There's sometliink, • Eth . . . vou can't miss it."

For the rest of their stay, Major Grigson relied entirely on silent dignity but several of the others were on pleasant, nodding terms with George and his wife by the time they left. During the journey back to London, they faced the problem of the immediate future. With a great deal of hesitation, particularly on George's part, they decided to take furnished rooms in Mossford, in order, as Eth put it, "to be able to look round a bit." But the train was almost in Waterloo before the final decision was made. (To be continued daily.)