The Nice Young Man at Sleeks.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVI, Issue 122, 21 November 1908, Page 10

The Nice Young Man at Sleeks.

"Well, good-bye, dear— so sorry you can't come ! I really shan't enjoy myself without you. But cheer up ; I shall soon be back." "Three whole weeks. And I could have done with a change. But I hope you'll enjqy ." "Now, now," don't cry. If you do I'll not go. And then, what did the doctor say about my breaking down? I'd take you, but business has been so very, very bad." * Samuel Sleek had not the look of a man who was in much danger of breaking down. Before he was out of sight of home he had recovered all his good spirits. Nobody who met his beaming face in the coast-bound train would suppose that he had left a weary and much-tired wife to struggle with the daily deluge of persistent duns that swept round his home. It was, however one* of his good points that he could pub troubles behind him, and could be the' best fellow at the club, and the heart and soul of a social gathering, while his wife was doing sempstress work for the family and the washerwoman waa clantouring for her unpaid wages. So the overworked wife and the ragged children, the neglected home and the raging duns were left behind, and Sleek strolled along by the seashore with the contented air of one who is at peace with all the world, and owed no man anything. Before Samuel had occupied his seaside lodgings twenty-four hours he was an honorary member pro tern, of some of the best clubs, had been selected to captain a golf tournament, and was hailed as 'a good fellow by every company into which he chose to introduce himself.. If there was one cloud at all in the summer sky of his happiness it was that j his wife's letters had a tone of discoptent. But he soon got over any trivial annoyance that this caused. Indeed he bore no malice against her by reason of the pessimistic nature of her correspondence, but did all he could to make her cheerful and happy by telling her how he was enjoying himself in the delightful society and glorious weather that beamed on his Brighton holiday. One morning, however, there was a sudden and surprising change in her letter. "Dear Sam," she wrote, "I am pleased to hear that you are enjoying yourself so thoroughly. I feel in better spirits myself. After all, it's best to iook on the bright side. I am having rattling company. A young man called yesterday and introduced himself. He is the jolliest fellow I ever met. He is ia the Civil Service. He stayed all night. Now he is romping with little Maisie in the drawing-room——" Sleek put his hand to his brow and asked himself if he was mad. If not, certainly his wife must be. He read the letter again. It was crtainly his wife's handwriting. But the style was alogether different from that wheh usually expressed the feelngs of his overburdened helpmeet. "A nice young man In the Civil Service. Stayed all night. Well " Sleek announced to the company that his wife had been taken ill : a statement which he himself half believed to be true, and before noon on the same day he rang the bell at his own door. The summons was answered by his wife, who asked whatever had brought him home so soon, and who did not seem by any means overjoyed at his return. "Well?" asked Sam in breathless enquiry. ".Well. "Are you tired of Brighton?" '•'Tired of . No. But what about tho letter I got this morning?" "It didn't ask you to come back?" "It didn't ! Well, I should think it did." "I hope I haven't interrupted your enjoyment." "Why. You say that a young man — who is he?" "He is — or, rather, he was — a total stranger to me until he—— Well, I was standing at the front gate, and he spoke to me." "And you had never seen him before?" "Never. But he is such a nice, quiet, civil .man." "Wthere is he now?" "In the drawing-room." "In my drawing-room — now? Are you mad?" "Not that I am aware of; though goodness knows I have gone through enough to drive a dozen women mad." "Whatever will tho neighbours say?'' "Oh, they're all talking about it, I know. That Mrs. Flidgett had a lot to say down at the grocer's last night. As if her husband had not caused the biggest scandal there has been in this district for years." "Well really, Elsie," said her husband, sinking down on a hall chair, "I don't know whom to see fi^st, the doctor or my lawyer." • "I should see the lawyer. The\ doctor can't do anything in the matter. If anyone can, now it has gone so far, it is the lawyer." "Does he know you are a married woman?" "I should think so. Though I haven't told him." ' "Where is the scoundrel?" asked Sleek, and without waiting for an answer he bounded forward and pushed open the door of the drawing-room. He paused for a moment in horror as he saw that his easy chair was occupied by a young man of by no means aristocratic mien or manner, bub of an athletic ,appearancej that caused Samuel Sleek suddenly to alter his first decision, which was to throw the intruder summarily through the window. The young man looked up and nodded. "May I ask who in thunder you are?" "First may I ask who in lightning you are?" calmly remarked the intruder. "I am the master of this house — the husband of thi3 lady !" "Oh. Then she has no doubt told you who I am." "She has not, and I may say that of all tho d " "Hush, Sam. No violent language. You know I had to break it to you gently. But this man is a bailiff." "A bailiff?" I "Yes. It's Glossem and Kipper's bill, isn't it?" "Glossem and Kipper it is, as the lady says. Eleven fourteen eight. Have you got the money?" asked the bailiff. "So that's the sort of a civil servant you are?" remarked Mr. Sleek in a querulous tone. ; "Yes. Being in tho service of the State, and not bsing military or naval, I presume 1 hays a tide to b« so called. And I'm always civil t» those who ar» civil t» m«." "And I didn't want to .write straight t* your apartments that we had th* bailiffs in," «aid the wife. "You knew what would bring me back quickly — and before I paid my bill," said the husband sourly, as he produced his purse. And as his wife turned to go out there appeared on her face the unusual light of a satisfied smile. — Manchester Chronicle.