pgw.uneasymoney-第4部分

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　'I'm　going　to　hurry；'　said　Claire；　clenching　her　fists　as　two　simultaneous　bursts　of　song；　in　different　keys　and　varying　tempos；　proceeded　from　the　dining…room　and　kitchen。　A　girl　has　to　be　in　a　sunnier　mood　than　she　was　to　bear　up　without　wincing　under　the　infliction　of　a　duet　consisting　of　the　Rock　of　Ages　and　Waiting　for　the　Robert　E。　Lee。　Assuredly　Claire　proposed　to　hurry。　She　meant　to　get　her　packing　done　in　record　time　and　escape　from　this　place。　She　went　into　her　bedroom　and　began　to　throw　things　untidily　into　her　trunk。　She　had　put　the　letter　in　her　pocket　against　a　more　favourable　time　for　perusal。　A　glance　had　told　her　that　it　was　from　her　friend　Polly；　Countess　of　Wetherby：　that　Polly　Davis　of　whom　she　had　spoken　to　Lord　Dawlish。　Polly　Davis；　now　married　for　better　or　for　worse　to　that　curious　invertebrate　person；　Algie　Wetherby；　was　the　only　real　friend　Claire　had　made　on　the　stage。　A　sort　of　shivering　gentility　had　kept　her　aloof　from　the　rest　of　her　fellow…workers；　but　it　took　more　than　a　shivering　gentility　to　stave　off　Polly。
　Claire　had　passed　through　the　various　stages　of　intimacy　with　her；　until　on　the　occasion　of　Polly's　marriage　she　had　acted　as　her　bridesmaid。
　It　was　a　long　letter；　too　long　to　be　read　until　she　was　at　leisure；　and　written　in　a　straggling　hand　that　made　reading　difficult。　She　was　mildly　surprised　that　Polly　should　have　written　her；　for　she　had　been　back　in　America　a　year　or　more　now；　and　this　was　her　first　letter。　Polly　had　a　warm　heart　and　did　not　forget　her　friends；　but　she　was　not　a　good　correspondent。
　The　need　of　getting　her　things　ready　at　once　drove　the　letter　from　Claire's　mind。　She　was　in　the　train　on　her　way　to　Southampton　before　she　remembered　its　existence。
　It　was　dated　from　New　York。
　MY　DEAR　OLD　CLAIRE；Is　this　really　my　first　letter　to　you？　Isn't　that　awful！　Gee！　A　lot's　happened　since　I　saw　you　last。　I　must　tell　you　first　about　my　hit。　Some　hit！　Claire；　old　girl；　I　own　New　York。　I　daren't　tell　you　what　my　salary　is。　You'd　faint。
　I'm　doing　barefoot　dancing。　You　know　the　sort　of　stuff。　I　started　it　in　vaudeville；　and　went　so　big　that　my　agent　shifted　me　to　the　restaurants；　and　they　have　to　call　out　the　police　reserves　to　handle　the　crowd。　You　can't　get　a　table　at　Reigelheimer's；　which　is　my　pitch；　unless　you　tip　the　head　waiter　a　small　fortune　and　promise　to　mail　him　your　clothes　when　you　get　home。　I　dance　during　supper　with　nothing　on　my　feet　and　not　much　anywhere　else；　and　it　takes　three　vans　to　carry　my　salary　to　the　bank。
　Of　course；　it's　the　title　that　does　it：　'Lady　Pauline　Wetherby！'　Algie　says　it　oughtn't　to　be　that；　because　I'm　not　the　daughter　of　a　duke；　but　I　don't　worry　about　that。　It　looks　good；　and　that's　all　that　matters。　You　can't　get　away　from　the　title。　I　was　born　in　Carbondale；　Illinois；　but　that　doesn't　matterI'm　an　English　countess；　doing　barefoot　dancing　to　work　off　the　mortgage　on　the　ancestral　castle；　and　they　eat　me。　Take　it　from　me；　Claire；　I'm　a　riot。
　Well；　that's　that。　What　I　am　really　writing　about　is　to　tell　you　that　you　have　got　to　e　over　here。　I've　taken　a　house　at　Brookport；　on　Long　Island；　for　the　summer。　You　can　stay　with　me　till　the　fall；　and　then　I　can　easily　get　you　a　good　job　in　New　York。　I　have　some　pull　these　days；　believe　me。　Not　that　you'll　need　my　help。　The　managers　have　only　got　to　see　you　and　they'll　all　want　you。　I　showed　one　of　them　that　photograph　you　gave　me；　and　he　went　up　in　the　air。　They　pay　twice　as　big　salaries　over　here；　you　know；　as　in　England；　so　e　by　the　next　boat。
　Claire；　darling；　you　must　e。　I'm　wretched。　Algie　has　got　my　goat　the　worst　way。　If　you　don't　know　what　that　means　it　means　that　he's　behaving　like　a　perfect　pig。　I　hardly　know　where　to　begin。　Well；　it　was　this　way：　directly　I　made　my　hit　my　press　agent；　a　real　bright　man　named　Sherriff；　got　busy；　of　course。　Interviews；　you　know；　and　Advice　to　Young　Girls　in　the　evening　papers；　and　How　I　preserve　my　beauty；　and　all　that　sort　of　thing。　Well；　one　thing　he　made　me　do　was　to　buy　a　snake　and　a　monkey。　Roscoe　Sherriff　is　crazy　about　animals　as　aids　to　advertisement。　He　says　an　animal　story　is　the　thing　he　does　best。　So　I　bought　them。
　Algie　kicked　from　the　first。　I　ought　to　tell　you　that　since　we　left　England　he　has　taken　up　painting　footling　little　pictures；　and　has　got　the　artistic　temperament　badly。　All　his　life　he's　been　starting　some　new　fool　thing。　When　I　first　met　him　he　prided　himself　on　having　the　finest　collection　of　photographs　of　race…horses　in　England。　Then　he　got　a　craze　for　model　engines。　After　that　he　used　to　work　the　piano　player　till　I　nearly　went　crazy。　And　now　it's　pictures。
　I　don't　mind　his　painting。　It　gives　him　something　to　do　and　keeps　him　out　of　mischief。　He　has　a　studio　down　in　Washington　Square；　and　is　perfectly　happy　messing　about　there　all　day。
　Everything　would　be　fine　if　he　didn't　think　it　necessary　to　tack　on　the　artistic　temperament　to　his　painting。　He's　developed　the　idea　that　he　has　nerves　and　everything　upsets　them。
　Things　came　to　a　head　this　morning　at　breakfast。　Clarence；　my　snake；　has　the　cutest　way　of　climbing　up　the　leg　of　the　table　and　looking　at　you　pleadingly　in　the　hope　that　you　will　give　him　soft…boiled　egg；　which　he　adores。　He　did　it　this　morning；　and　no　sooner　had　his　head　appeared　above　the　table　than　Algie；　with　a　kind　of　sharp　wail；　struck　him　a　violent　blow　on　the　nose　with　a　teaspoon。　Then　he　turned　to　me；　very　pale；　and　said：　'Pauline；　this　must　end！　The　time　has　e　to　speak　up。　A　nervous；　highly…strung　man　like　myself　should　not；　and　must　not；　be　called　upon　to　live　in　a　house　where　he　is　constantly　meeting　snakes　and　monkeys　without　warning。　Choose　between　me　and'
　We　had　got　as　far　as　this　when　Eustace；　the　monkey；　who　I　didn't　know　was　in　the　room　at　all；　suddenly　sprang　on　to　his　back。　He　is　very　fond　of　Algie。
　Would　you　believe　it？　Algie　walked　straight　out　of　the　house；　still　holding　the　teaspoon；　and　has　not　returned。　Later　in　the　day　he　called　me　up　on　the　phone　and　said　that；　though　he　realized　that　a　man's　place　was　the　home；　he　declined　to　cross　the　threshold　again　until　I　had　got　rid　of　Eustace　and　Clarence。　I　tried　to　reason　with　him。　I　told　him　that　he　ought　to　think　himself　lucky　it　wasn't　anything　worse　than　a　monkey　and　a　snake；　for　the　last　person　Roscoe　Sherriff　handled；　an　emotional　actress　named　Devenish；　had　to　keep　a　young　puma。　But　he　wouldn't　listen；　and　the　end　of　it　was　that　he　rang　off　and　I　have　not　seen　or　heard　of　him　since。
　I　am　broken…hearted。　I　won't　give　in；　but　I　am　having　an　awful　time。　So；　dearest　Claire；　do　e　over　and　help　me。　If　you　could　possibly　sail　by　the　_Atlantic_；　leaving　Southampton　on　the　twenty…fourth　of　this　month；　you　would　meet　a　friend　of　mine　whom　I　think　you　would　like。　His　name　is　Dudley　Pickering；　and　he　made　a　fortune　in　automobiles。　I　expect　you　have　heard　of　the　Pickering　automobiles？
　Darling　Claire；　do　e；　or　I　know　I　shall　weaken　and　yield　to　Algie's　outrageous　demands；　for；　though　I　would　like　to　hit　him　with　a　brick；　I　love　him　dearly。
　Your　affectionate　POLLY　WETHERBY
　Claire　sank　back　against　the　cushioned　seat　and　her　eyes　filled　with　tears　of　disappointment。　Of　all　the　things　which　would　have　chimed　in　with　her　discontented　mood　at　that　moment　a　sudden　flight　to　America　was　the　most　alluring。　Only　one　consideration　held　her　backshe　had　not　the　money　for　her　fare。
　Polly　might　have　thought　of　that；　she　reflected；　bitterly。　She　took　the　letter　up　again　and　saw　that　on　the　last　page　there　was　a　postscript
　PS。I　don't　know　how　you　are　fixed　for　money；　old　girl；　but　if　things　are　the　same　with　you　as　in　the　old　days　you　can't　be　rolling。　So　I　have　paid　for　a　passage　for　you　with　the　liner　people　this　side；　and　they　have　cabled　their　English　office；　so　you　can　sail　whenever　you　want　to。　e　right　over。
　An　hour　later　the　manager　of　the　Southampton　branch　of　the　White　Star　Line　was　dazzled　by　an　apparition；　a　beautiful　girl　who　burst　in　upon　him　with　flushed　face　and　shining　eyes；　demanding　a　berth　on　the　steamship　_Atlantic_　and　talking　about　a　Lady　Wetherby。　Ten　minutes　later；　her　passage　secured；　Claire　was　walking　to　the　local　theatre　to　inform　those　in　charge　of　the　destinies　of　The　Girl　and　the　Artist　number　one　pany　that　they　must　look　elsewhere　for　a　substitute　for　Miss　Claudia　Winslow。　Then　she　went　back　to　her　hotel　to　write　a　letter　home；　notifying　her　mother　of　her　plans。
　She　looked　at　her　watch。　It　was　six　o'clock。　Back　in　West　Kensington　a　rich　smell　of　dinner　would　be　floating　through　the　flat；　the　cook；　watching　the　boiling　cabbage；　would　be　singing　A　Few　More　Years　Shall　Roll；　her　mother　would　be　sighing；　and　her　little　brother　Percy　would　be　employed　upon　some　juvenile　deviltry；　the　exact　nature　of　which　it　was　not　possible　to　conjecture；　though　one　could　be　certain　that　it　would　be　something　involving　a　deafening　noise。
　Claire　smiled　a　happy　smile。
　
　4
　The　offices　of　Messrs　Nichols；　Nichols；　Nichols；　and　Nichols　were　in　Lincoln's　Inn　Fields。　The　first　Nichols　had　been　dead　since　the　reign　of　King　William　the　Fourth；　the　second　since　the　jubilee　year　of　Queen　Victoria。　The　remaining　brace　were　Lord　Dawlish's　friend　Jerry　and　his　father；　a　formidable　old　man　who　knew　all　the　shady　secrets　of　all　the　noble　families　in　England。
　Bill　walked　up　the　stairs　and　was　shown　into　the　room　where　Jerry；　when　his　father's　eye　was　upon　him；　gave　his　daily　imitation　of　a　young　man　labouring　with　diligence　and　enthusiasm　at　the　law。　His　father　being　at　the　moment　out　at　lunch；　the　junior　partner　was　practising　putts　with　an　umbrella　and　a　ball　of　paper。
　Jerry　Nichols　was　not　the　typical　lawyer。　At　Cambridge；　where　Bill　had　first　made　his　acquaintance；　he　had　been　notable　for　an　exuberance　of　which　Lincoln's　Inn　Fields　had　not　yet　cured　him。　There　was　an　airy　disregard　for　legal　formalities　about　him　which　exasperated　his　father；　an　attorney　of　the　old　school。　He　came　to　the　point；　directly　Bill　entered　the　room；　with　a　speed　and　levity　that　would　have　appalled　Nichols　Senior；　and　must　have　caused　the　other　two　Nicholses　to　revolve　in　their　graves。
　'Halloa；　Bill；　old　man；'　he　said；　prodding　him　amiably　in　the　waistcoat　with　the　ferrule　of　the　umbrella。　'How's　the　boy？　Fine！　So'm　I。　So　you　got　my　message？　Wonderful　invention；　the　telephone。'
　'I've　just　e　from　the　club。'
　'Take　a　chair。'
　'What's　the　matter？'
　Jerry　Nichols　thrust　Bill　into　a　chair　and　seated　himself　on　the　table。
　'Now　look　here；　Bill；'　he　said；　'this　isn't　the　way　we　usually　do　this　sort　of　thing；　and　if　the　governor　were　here　he　would　spend　an　hour　and　a　half　rambling　on　about　testators　and　beneficiary　legatees；　and　parties　of　the　first　part；　and　all　that　sort　of　rot。　But　as　he　isn't　here　I　want　to　know；　as　one　pal　to　another；　what　you've　been　doing　to　an　old　buster　of　the　name　of　Nutbe。'
　'Nutbe？'
　'Nutbe。'
　'Not　Ira　Nutbe？'
　'Ira　J。　Nutbe；　formerly　of　Chicago；　later　of　London；　now　a　disembodied　spirit。'
　'Is　he　dead？'
　'Yes。　And　he's　left　you　something　like　a　million　pounds。'
　Lord　Dawlish　looked　at　his　watch。
　'Joking　apart；　Jerry；　old　man；'　he　said；　'what　did　you　ask　me　to　e　here　for？　The　mittee　expects　me　to　spend　some　of　my　time　at　the　club；　and　if　I　hang　about　here　all　the　afternoon　I　shall　los