CHAPTER XXIII

JACK AND JASPER

IT was on the memorable Cup or rather Candelabra day of the Roseberry Rocks races that our two heroes first met in Mrs. McDermott’s back drawing-room in Sea-View Place, the meeting arising in the following manner: Mr. Bunting had been duly aired out the back way in the hopes of satisfying him for the day, and inducing him to leave the coast clear for a “young friend who had come from their neighbourhood in the country to see the races.” But Mr. Bunting having, quite unintentionally,—for he was on far too good terms with himself to think such a thing as a rival possible,—put the ladies into a flutter by dwelling rather too much on the announcement; making them think he knew more than he really did, “Mamma,” who was a skilful general, thought it best to parry the point by accepting the double escort up to the course. So Mr. Bunting returned himself at 2.20, as the railway people say, just in time to see Mr. Goldspink fingering Miss Rosa’s pretty pink and white tarlatan muslin dress, in a style of familiarity that he didn’t altogether approve of.

“Con-found him, he’s no boy,” frowned our hero No. 2 in return for the “off-hand” sort of salute our hero No. 1 accorded him on the introduction; Mrs. McDermott having judiciously hinted to Jasper that the gentleman coming was merely a chance acquaintance, of whom they made a convenience.

“He’s a cool hand,” thought Jasper, conning the stranger’s airified manner, and the at-home sort of way in which he lounged about the room. He did not seem to recognise Jasper’s consequence at all.

“He’s no beauty,” thought Mr. Bunting, taking a complimentary glance at himself in the mirror as he passed onward through the front drawing-room to the window, from whence he emerged into the balcony and took an unconscious survey of the sea. He wondered who the deuce the fellow was. Hoped he didn’t think of going with them. Yet still he seemed to stay. Would see if he could make it out.

“Well, it’s about time we were going,” observed Mr. Bunting, returning and speaking as if he commanded the Crinoline.

“Is it!” replied Miss Rosa, rising and circling away to get on her finery—giving Mr. Bunting one of those assuring glances with which a clever woman will hold half a dozen men in tow at a time. If an honest man, struggling with adversity, is a sight for the Gods, surely a pretty girl playing two youths off at once, is a sight worthy of society, and such is the delicacy we purpose setting before the reader. Mamma presently followed, feeling assured there would be no comparison of notes between the gentlemen during her absence.

So she closed the door upon them, and her light foot-fall was presently heard overhead. The two gentlemen then sat, surveying their feet and their hands, as if neither thought the other worth notice. Each however wished the other away.

“Been here long?” at length drawled Jack, thinking to sound Jasper.

“Just come,” yawned Jasper, as if he was thoroughly tired of Jack.

“Humph!” snorted Jack, unused to such shortness, and this from a poacher too. He then sat looking at Jasper’s double chin and dumpy legs, thinking what a beauty he would be at forty. Admiration Jack wondered who Jasper was—where he came from—what he meant by sitting there like a great bull-calf—how it was that he had never heard of him before. It was very singular. It really looked as if he meant to go to the races. In fact, Jack had no doubt he meant to go to the races. Then he recollected that Mamma mentioned their young friend had come to see the races. That would account for his coming, and Jack felt rather more amiably disposed towards him. Still he would like to know that he was not to be troubled with his company too long; a passing bore he might put up with, but a permanent one he couldn’t endure. So Jack looked round about the room, and up to the ceiling, and then at his watch, as if for an idea, and at length poked the pertinent question.

“Stay long?” with an air of indifference.

“Don’t know,” replied Jasper, wondering what business it was of Mr. Bunting’s.

“Long as it’s agreeable p’raps,” suggested Jack.

“Just so,” responded Jasper.

“Nice place,” observed Mr. Bunting after another pause.

“It is,” assented Jasper, thinking it would be just as pleasant if Mr. Bunting was away. He then drew Miss Rosa’s “Present from Roseberry Rocks” work-box towards him, and began tumbling, and fumbling, and mixing its contents.

“Impudent dog,” thought Mr. Bunting, “that box is mine”—(Mr. Bunting had helped Rosa to wind the reels of blue and yellow silk that Jasper was now winnowing through his fat fingers). Jasper then touched the invisible spring in the lid, and taking out the little looking-glass, began examining his teeth, and his whiskers, and his stupid face generally.

Better have a bason and water thought Mr. Bunting, eyeing the operation; when to show that he was equally at home with himself, he arose from his seat, and making for the mantel-piece mirror, proceeded to examine his whiskers, his collar, his watch ribbon tie, and his upper man generally. Miss Rosa’s beautiful mother-of-pearl musical box being on the ledge, he then deliberately wound it up, and setting it a-going with the venerable Rory O’More, returned to the balcony, leaving Mr. Jasper in the enjoyment of the music, or the noise, whichever he considered it.

“Dash him, but he’s an impudent fellow that,” thought Jasper, eyeing Jack’s retreat, whereupon Jasper returned the little glass to its pink-wadded case, and heaping in the goods as if they were so many potatoes, placed the work-box in the position in which he had found it. He then threw himself listlessly in his chair to listen to the tunes he had so often heard before.

Ere the box had run down, the side door opened, and Miss Rosa sidled in, with the self-satisfied smile of a good “get up” on her countenance. In truth, she was expensively dressed, though whether the rich rustling lilac-coloured silk in which she was now enveloped was an improvement upon the pretty muslin in which our friends found her, is a question upon which ladies and gentlemen would most likely differ; ladies generally going for the gay and grand, gentlemen for the simple and becoming. However, there she was, and, as in duty bound, both gentlemen admired the dress exceedingly, praised the bonnet made of a gauze to match the silk, and envied the pretty pink roses within their propinquity to the fair face. And Miss received their compliments with a laudable balance of smiles that would have puzzled a chaperone of twenty years’ standing to say which was the favourite. In the midst of their laudations, in came the keeper of the conscience, Mrs. Mamma, who, after surveying Rosa all round, and very round she was, and telling her she must be careful how she got into the carriage, proceeded to ring the bell for the vehicle. The compliments meanwhile passed into the old course.