"Gl--glad rags, sir?" stammered Pearson, uncertainly.
"I knew you didn't catch on when I said that to you before dinner.Imean claw-hammer and dress-suit things.Don't you be frightened, Pearson.I never had six good shirts at once, or two pair of shoes, or more than four ten-cent handkerchiefs at a time since I was born.And when Mr.Palford yanked me away from New York, he didn't suspect a fellow could be in such a state.And I didn't know I was in a state, anyhow.I was too busy to hunt up people to tell me, because I was rushing something important right through, and I couldn't stop.I just bought the first things I set eyes on and crammed them into my trunk.
There, I guess you know the most of this, but you didn't know I knew you knew it.Now you do, and you needn't be afraid to hurt my feelings by telling me I haven't a darned thing I ought to have.You can go straight ahead."As he leaned back, puffing away at his pipe, he had thrown a leg over the arm of his chair for greater comfort, and it really struck his valet that he had never seen a gentleman more at his ease, even one who WAS one.His casual candidness produced such a relief from the sense of strain and uncertainty that Pearson felt the color returning to his face.An opening had been given him, and it was possible for him to do his duty.
"If you wish, sir, I will make a list," he ventured further, "and the proper firms will send persons to bring things down from London on appro.""What's 'appro' the English for?"
"Approval, sir."
"Good business! Good old Pearson!"
"Thank you, sir.Shall I attend to it to-night, to be ready for the morning post?""In five minutes you shall.But you threw me off the track a bit.The thing I was really going to say was more important than the clothes business."There was something else, then, thought Pearson, some other unexpected point of view.
"What have you to do for me, anyhow?"
"Valet you, sir."
"That's English for washing my face and combing my hair and putting my socks on, ain't it?""Well, sir, it means doing all you require, and being always in attendance when you change.""How much do you get for it?"
"Thirty shillings a week, sir."
"Say, Pearson," said Tembarom, with honest feeling, "I'll give you sixty shillings a week NOT to do it."Calmed though he had felt a few moments ago, it cannot be denied that Pearson was aghast.How could one be prepared for developments of such an order?
"Not to do it, sir!" he faltered."But what would the servants think if you had no one to valet you?""That's so.What would they think?" But he evidently was not dismayed, for he smiled widely."I guess the plainclothes man would throw a fit."But Pearson's view was more serious and involved a knowledge of not improbable complications.He knew "the hall" and its points of view.
"I couldn't draw my wages, sir," he protested."There'd be the greatest dissatisfaction among the other servants, sir, if I didn't do my duties.There's always a--a slight jealousy of valets and ladies'-maids.The general idea is that they do very little to earn their salaries.I've seen them fairly hated.""Is that so? Well, I'll be darned! " remarked Mr.Temple Barholm.He gave a moment to reflection, and then cheered up immensely.
"I'll tell you how we'll fix it.You come up into my room and bring your tatting or read a newspaper while I dress." He openly chuckled.
"Holy smoke! I've GOT to put on my shirt and swear at my collar-buttons myself.If I'm in for having a trained nurse do it for me, it'll give me the Willies.When you danced around me before dinner--"Pearson's horror forced him to commit the indiscretion of interrupting.
"I hope I didn't DANCE, sir," he implored."I tried to be extremely quiet.""That was it," said Tembarom."I shouldn't have said danced; I meant crept.I kept thinking I should tread on you, and I got so nervous toward the end I thought I should just break down and sob on your bosom and beg to be taken back to home and mother.""I'm extremely sorry, sir, I am, indeed," apologized Pearson, doing his best not to give way to hysterical giggling.How was a man to keep a decently straight face, and if one didn't, where would it end? One thing after another.
"It was not your fault.It was mine.I haven't a thing against you.
You're a first-rate little chap."
"I will try to be more satisfactory to-morrow."There must be no laughing aloud, even if one burst a blood- vessel.It would not do.Pearson hastily confronted a vision of a young footman or Mr.Burrill himself passing through the corridors on some errand and hearing master and valet shouting together in unseemly and wholly incomprehensible mirth.And the next remark was worse than ever.
"No, you won't, Pearson," Mr.Temple Barholm asserted."There's where you're wrong.I've got no more use for a valet than I have for a pair of straight-front corsets."This contained a sobering suggestion.
"But you said, sir, that--"
"Oh, I'm not going to fire you," said Tembarom, genially."I'll 'keep you on', but little Willie is going to put on his own socks.If the servants have to be pacified, you come up to my room and do anything you like.Lie on the bed if you want to; get a jew's-harp and play on it--any old thing to pass the time.And I'll raise your wages.What do you say? Is it fixed?""I'm here, sir, to do anything you require," Pearson answered distressedly; "but I'm afraid--"Tembarom's face changed.A sudden thought had struck him.
"I'll tell you one thing you can do," he said; "you can valet that friend of mine.""Mr.Strangeways, sir?"
"Yes.I've got a notion he wouldn't mind it." He was not joking now.
He was in fact rather suddenly thoughtful.
"Say, Pearson, what do you think of him?"
"Well, sir, I've not seen much of him, and he says very little, but Ishould think he was a GENTLEMAN, sir."
Mr.Temple Barholm seemed to think it over.
