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"Of course I ought to have gone out and switched on the lights for them," sighed Young R, "but then, you see, I thought they were safe in bed, Brimberly!" "Why, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, mopping furiously, "I I ventured to give 'em a hour's leave of habsence, sir; I ventured so to do, sir, because, sir " "Because you are of rather a venturesome nature, aren't you, Brimberly?"
Yes, Brimberly, when the clocks strike midnight I shall be thirty-five years old " "Indeed, sir!" exclaimed Brimberly, clasping his plump hands softly and bowing, "then allow me to wish you many, many 'appy returns, sir, with continued 'ealth, wealth, and all 'appiness, sir!" "Happiness?" repeated Young R., and smiled quite bitterly, as only the truly young can smile.
"Oh, not at all necessary, Brimberly; the lock is faulty, you know." "Sir?" said Brimberly, soothing a twitching whisker. "If you are familiar with the life of the Fourteenth Louis, Brimberly, you will remember that the Grand Monarch hated to be kept waiting so do I. A cigar in the cabinet yonder." With his whiskers in a high state of agitation, Mr.
Brimberly blinked, and his whiskers bristled in horrified reproof. "Shanties! Oh, dear me, sir!" he murmured. "Shanties your magnificent town mansion situate in Saint James's Square, London, as your respected father hacquired from a royal dook, sir! Shanties! your costly and helegant res-eye-dence in Park Lane, sir!" "Hum!" said Young R. moodily.
Brimberly bowed and went from the room with one hand still clutching his whisker very much as though he had taken himself into custody and were leading himself out. "Say," exclaimed Spike in a hoarse whisper and edging nearer to Mr. Ravenslee, "who's His Whiskers de swell guy with d' face trimmings?"
'E'd 'ave been settled for life if 'e 'd took my advice! But Barberton was always inclined to be a little 'eadstrong. The widder in question 'appened to be a trifle par-say, I'll admit, also it was 'inted that one of 'er lower limbs was cork. But then, 'er money, sir 'er jools!" Mr. Brimberly raised eyes and hands and shook his head until his whiskers quivered in a very ecstasy.
Mr. Brimberly hesitated, but before those deadly elbows he blenched, his whiskers wilted all at once, and he retreated backwards; across the spacious drawing room, along the hall and down the stairs he went, his pace ever accelerating, until, in full flight, he reached the sanctuary of his pantry, where, having locked himself securely in, he sank panting into a chair to mop beaded brow.
Brimberly gasped and goggled, for leaning over the back of his chair was a little, old man, very slender, very upright, and very smart as to attire, who fanned himself with a jaunty straw hat banded in vivid crimson; an old man whose bright, youthful eyes looked out from a face wizened with age, while up from his bald crown rose a few wisps of white and straggling hair.
Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made him the personality he was. "And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he blandly enquired. "I've been with his lordship six months, now," nodded Mr. Stevens. "Ah!" said Mr.
Stevens, "an' here's two palates waitin', waitin' an' ready to appreciate till daylight doth appear." "There's nothin' like port!" sighed Mr. Brimberly, setting aside the empty champagne bottle, "nothin' like port, and there's Young Har 'ardly can tell it from sherry oh, the Goth! the Vandyle! All this good stuff would be layin' idle if it wasn't for me!