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Updated: May 2, 2025
"As a brother architect," replied Beevor, as Ventimore opened the door, "I would rather be excused from giving an opinion.... Ah, here is Mr. Ventimore himself." Horace entered, to find himself confronted by Mr. Wackerbath, whose face was purple and whose white whiskers were bristling with rage. "So, sir!" he began. "So, sir! " and choked ignominiously.
However this may be, he has probably learnt a lesson which will render him more careful in future." On a certain evening in May Horace Ventimore dined in a private room at the Savoy, as one of the guests of Mr. Samuel Wackerbath. "Quite a small and friendly party!" said Mr. Wackerbath, looking round on his numerous sons and daughters, as he greeted Horace in the reception-room.
"Oh," said Horace, feeling deathly sick, "in that case it is useless, of course, to suggest any modifications." "Absolutely!" said Mr. Wackerbath. "Very well, then; there's no more to be said," replied Horace. "You will have no difficulty in finding an architect who will be more successful in realising your intentions. Mr.
Before he left, a provisional date for the dinner was fixed for an evening towards the end of the next week, and Horace walked home, treading on air rather than hard paving-stones, and "striking the stars with his uplifted head." The next day he went down to Lipsfield and made the acquaintance of the whole Wackerbath family, who were all enthusiastic about the proposed country house.
Wackerbath, as Horace modestly disclaimed Sir Lawrence's compliment. "You remember, Pountney, my dear fellow, that day when we were crossing Westminster Bridge together, and I was telling you I thought of building?
"You did indeed," said Horace, wondering how far these reminiscences would go. "And," continued Mr. Wackerbath, patting Horace on the shoulder, "from that day to this I've never had a moment's reason to regret it. We've worked in perfect sympathy. His ideas coincided with mine. I think he found that I met him, so to speak, on all fours."
Beevor, the gentleman you met just now," he added, with a touch of bitterness, "would probably be just your man. Of course I retire altogether. And really, if any one is the sufferer over this, I fancy it's myself. I can't see how you are any the worse." "Not any the worse?" cried Mr. Wackerbath, "when the infernal place is built!" "Built!" echoed Horace feebly.
"There appears to have been some misunderstanding, my dear Ventimore," explained Beevor, with a studious correctness which was only a shade less offensive than open triumph. "I think I'd better leave you and this gentleman to talk it over quietly." "Quietly?" exclaimed Mr. Wackerbath, with an apoplectic snort; "quietly!!" "I've no idea what you are so excited about, sir," said Horace.
To think of a prize like that coming to you the very first time! And you don't even know how this Mr. Wackerbath came to hear of you just happened to see your name up outside and came in, I expect. Why, I dare say, if I hadn't chanced to go away as I did and about a couple of paltry two thousand pound houses, too!
"Let me explain, Mr. Wackerbath," he said. "Personally I've had nothing to do with this. This gentleman, wishing to spare me the trouble, has taken upon himself to build your house for you, without consulting either of us, and, from what I know of his powers in the direction, I've no doubt that that it's a devilish fine place, in its way.
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