I.
MR. AND MRS. INDERWICK were seated at breakfast. They had only been married a year, but had arrived at the melancholy conclusion that their temperaments were incompatible.
This was sad, as both were young, and thus had a long journey before them. They were amiable and very much liked; there was really no reason why they should not be happy. Mr. Inderwick was a successful man, and Mrs. Inderwick enjoyed every comfort; but they had come to the conviction that their union had been a mistake.
This morning the lady and gentleman seemed to have slept badly and breakfast was cold.
“I suppose it might be remedied,” said pretty Mrs. Inderwick, indifferently, “if I were to rise at daylight and worry with the servants.”
“Hum!” said Mr. Inderwick.
“I might be a little more disposed to take trouble if I were a little better appreciated,” said the lady.
“Now I shall hear about the sealskin sacque,” said the gentleman, sotto voce. “I am not aware that you have any right to find fault with me,” he said in a cold tone. “You really care nothing for me. If you did, you would not allow me to go in my old wrap.”
“If you really cared for me, you would not allow me to suffer for want of a good cup of coffee.”
“The sacque would cost only two hundred dollars.”
“The coffee would be hot if you would pay moderate attention to it.”
“You treat me shamefully, sir!”
“You care nothing for my comfort, madam!”
“You really are too bad, sir! I was never made to feel that I was a slave until I married you.”
“Well, I was much more comfortable when I was a bachelor, madam!”
“Perhaps you would like to return to that, sir.”
“I confess I should, madam, if I am going to live in such discomfort.”
“And I should like to be a young girl again, if I am not permitted to dress decently. It is too bad!”
“Unfortunately we are tied for life,” said Mr. Inderwick, pushing away his cold coffee.
“It is unfortunate, as you say. Is there no way of remedying it, sir?”
“Remedying it? Do you mean——”
“I merely suggested——”
“Divorce?”
Mrs. Inderwick said nothing. The abrupt turn rather disconcerted her.
“Or perhaps you mean separation?”
“I have heard that wives are sometimes forced to that, sir.”
Mr. Inderwick knit his brows, and Mrs. Inderwick did likewise.
“We might think of it,” said the lady.
“Very well, madam,” said the gentleman. He then rose, pushed back his chair, went into the hall, put on his hat, and went to his office, slamming the door behind him.
II.
MRS. INDERWICK was in her drawing-room soon after this scene when a visitor called, Mrs. Bacon, one of her bosom friends.
“Oh, my dear! Such a scene took place with Mr. Inderwick, this morning,” she said.
“A scene?” said Mrs. Bacon, who gushed with sympathy and loved to give advice.
“He was cruel! He cares nothing for me! I mentioned the sacque he promised me, and he flew into a rage.”
“You are not in earnest!” exclaimed Mrs. Bacon.
“He did not say I was foolishly extravagant, but I know he thinks so!” sobbed Mrs. Inderwick.
“A sacque extravagant with his income! It is absurd.”
“But what am I to do?”
The question was what Mrs. Bacon waited for.
“I would insist upon being decently dressed, or take steps to protect myself, my dear.”
“What steps could I take? You surely don’t mean apply for a divorce?”
“Not that exactly, my dear; but I would let him understand that I would not endure such treatment.”
“How am I to do?”
Mrs. Bacon looked around.
“Are we quite alone, my dear?” she said. “There is nobody in the house but the maid.”
“Then I will advise you what to do.”
“I should be so grateful!”
“It is something I have more than once threatened Mr. Bacon with.”
“Do tell me!”
“You will not be shocked, I hope.”
“I promise you I will not.”
“Then listen, my dear.”
And Mrs. Bacon, with an air of the deepest secrecy, drew her chair nearer to Mrs. Inderwick, and the friends began a low and confidential consultation.
III.
By a curious coincidence Mr. Inderwick was at his office when his friend Bacon dropped in for a smoke and a talk.
“You seem rather out of sorts, my dear old fellow,” said Mr. Bacon.
“I am—domestic bothers.”
“Domestic?”
“Mrs. Inderwick—I wouldn’t mention it, but we are old chums, and you have occasionally alluded to Mrs. Bacon.”
“Yes I have. She’s a devil of a woman,” said Mr. Bacon, with candor. “We frequently mention the subject of a legal separation, but the thing is awkward considering six children. Now, in your case it would be different, as you are just married, and the affair would be easy.”
“Divorce? I don’t like that.”
“It’s the only remedy, my boy. People will talk, of course; but that can’t be helped.”
“No, I am not ready for that,” said Mr. Inderwick, shaking his head.
“There is nothing else if you can’t get along with your wife,” said Mr. Bacon, philosophically. “I’ve often told Mrs. Bacon so.”
“And what does she say?”
“Hum! Well—she always says she has no objection.”
“Why not arrange the affair, then?”
“Hum! The fact is—she’s got the money,” said Mr. Bacon; “a separate establishment, don’t you see? And then the children.”
“Fortunately I have none.”
“That makes a difference. But what is the trouble?”
“No comfort in anything about the house,” said Mr. Inderwick.
“Look here, Inderwick,” said Mr. Bacon, “do you know I wouldn’t stand that?”
“I suppose Mrs. Bacon looks to your comfort?”
“She!”
“Why not insist on it? I would not stand that.”
“Hum! the children—and then—the money. But in your case it is otherwise. If I were you, I would insist on my authority; if it was despised, I would come to an understanding.”
“Divorce again?”
“Well, something like it. If you don’t like the word, you might find another.”
“Another?”
“Separation.”
“It is about the same.”
“It is very different.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wouldn’t like to hurt Mrs. Inderwick’s feelings. What is your idea?”
“Are we alone?”
“Quite so; nobody but my clerk in the next room.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I would do.”
Mr. Bacon thereupon drew his chair nearer to that of Mr. Inderwick’s, and began conversing in a low tone, with an eloquence which was emphasized by many “don’t you see’s?”
IV.
The city of X—— is a favorite stopping-place on the great Northern and Southern route.
One evening two ladies, who had just arrived, were seated in the parlor of the chief hotel. One, the elder, was laughing; the younger was nearly crying.
“Well, my dear,” said the elder, “so far, so good. Nothing could have been done better. You will give Mr. Inderwick a lesson. You steal away, leaving a pathetic note telling him that it will be useless to follow you; and I steal away from Bacon—ha! ha!—without giving him notice, leaving him to look after the children until I am back!”
“Yes,” sobbed Mrs. Inderwick, “but I am not as strong-minded as you are!”
There the voice of the younger lady faltered, and tears ran down the pretty cheeks.
“Have more courage, my dear! Mr. Inderwick will be in despair, and will never rest until he finds where you are.”
“I wish he would!” (sob)
“Why did you spoil matters by telling the clerk your name?”
“Oh, I couldn’t take another name, and I thought you would not object.”
Mrs. Bacon tossed her head. “So you informed that horrid creature with his hair parted in the middle that we were Mrs. Bacon and Mrs. Inderwick, and our husbands would follow on the next train?”
“Yes, I wish they would!” Mrs. Inderwick sobbed, busily crocheting something.
“What is that?” said Mrs. Bacon, coldly.
“It is a scarf I was crocheting—for—for—Mr. Inderwick.”
Mrs. Bacon straightened her person until her chin followed an upward angle. “You never will be strong-minded!” she said with emphasis.
“I am afraid I never will.”
“You are crocheting a scarf for him! I never did for Bacon. And he refused you your sealskin!”
“Perhaps he couldn’t afford it.”
“Your rooms are ready, ladies.”
It was the stewardess or steward-lady who showed them to their chambers; the gentleman at the “office” with the diamond stud having assigned two to them.
V.
There was a train an hour later than the one that had brought the ladies. It contained two gentlemen muffled up to avoid recognition.
“Bacon,” said one of the gentlemen, “this thing is beastly.”
“Beastly, my boy? You never did a wiser thing in your life.”
“Or a more foolish one.”
“Look here, Mr. Inderwick,” said Mr. Bacon, “you are getting weak-kneed. Stiffen up. Everything is going right. You will give Mrs. Inderwick a lesson. You got away without anything like a scene, as I told a lie for you to Mrs. Inderwick -that you would be detailed at your office until ten at night”
“I wish I was there now.”
“Oh, bother! Look at me! I lied to Mrs. Bacon also, and she’s behind yonder looking after the six children. Ha! ha! I have often told her I would abandon her. I’m a man of my word, Inderwick, and don’t you forget it.”
“Well, here we are. I am sorry to stop for the night. There is a cab. Take us to the best hotel.”
“Yes, sir,” the cabman responded.
“But first to the largest establishment for ladies’ outfits,” said Inderwick.
“What is that for?” asked Mr. Bacon, as they got into the cab.
“I want to look at some sealskin sacques, and send one off by express.”
“Weakening!” muttered Mr. Bacon.
Mr. Inderwick purchased a very beautiful sealskin sacque and directed it to be sent to his hotel, whither he and his friend proceeded.
“Inderwick,” said Mr. Bacon, as they entered the hotel, “you are not the man I took you for.”
“Well, I never set up for anything of a high order like you, Bacon.”
Mr. Inderwick was a little sarcastic, and Mr. Bacon was evidently displeased.
“I may not amount to much,” he said, “but I am not under a woman’s thumb.”
“Do you refer to myself and Mrs. Inderwick?”
“Humph!”
“For if you do——”
“Look here, Inderwick, old fellow; straighten up and look at me! I don’t worry my mind, my boy. I don’t care for Mrs. Bacon.” Here Mr. Bacon snapped his finger gleefully. “She can’t rule me.”
“Rooms!” said Mr. Inderwick to the clerk; “names, Inderwick and Bacon. You can register them.”
“Ready,” said the superior being, looking with hauteur at the common mortal who had presumed to address him in so unconcerned a manner, “twenty-seven and twenty-eight.”
“One will answer,” said Mr. Bacon, with deep respect.
But the superior being did not melt. He indicated Mr. Bacon with his finger as an object of interest to a porter, and turned his back upon him.
As they were going up the staircase, another porter followed with the sealskin sacque, which had just arrived. Mr. Bacon gazed at it contemptuously.
“Are you really going to send that thing?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Weakening!” repeated Mr. Bacon with much the air of the superior being. “Hello! what are you doing, Inderwick?”
Mr. Inderwick had cut the wrapping around the sacque and drawn it out.
“I have a fancy to look at the thing to see if it is fine enough; it was only five hundred dollars,” he said.
“Only! Inderwick, you are mashed on Mrs. Inderwick!”
“I suppose you are not on Mrs. Bacon?”
“I—mashed on Mrs. Bacon? It’s quite the other way, Inderwick! Mrs. Bacon is mashed on me. Nothing would ever make her do what I am doing. No, sir! I am the master in my own house, and Mrs. Bacon knows her place!”
“Well, that’s a lucky thing. What do you think of this affair?” He held up the beautiful sacque for a moment under the electric light.
“Ha! ha! And you are going to express it?”
“To-night.”
“Inderwick, you are henpecked! Look at me; do you see anything about me that looks henpecked?”
“Twenty-seven and twenty-eight, gentlemen,” said the porter, opening the door of twenty-seven.
“Henpecked!” said Inderwick, as he threw the sacque over his arm and entered. “Well, Bacon, I believe you are henpecked, and, confidentially, I should be glad to be myself.”
A scream curdled the blood of Bacon and Inderwick, and almost the porter. Two ladies started up from the sofa where they had been seated.
“Annie!”
“Charles!”
“Mrs. Bacon!”
“Bacon!”
As two of the party rushed into each other’s arms—not Mr. and Mrs. Bacon—a crocheted scarf and a sealskin sacque were thrown around the shoulders of the people embracing.
Then followed an awful silence, when Mrs. Bacon took the word.
“Bacon,” said Mrs. Bacon.
“Yes, my dear,” said Mr. Bacon.
Mrs. Bacon slowly raised her finger and pointed to him. Bacon shrank back.
“Go and buy tickets for this whole party to return in the morning train.”
“Yes, my dear.”
“Then come back to the room next to this. I have something to say to you.”
Mr. Bacon shivered and retired, and Mrs. Bacon sailed haughtily, without a word, into the adjoining apartment.
“I’ll never do so any more, dear!”
“And I promise you I won’t!”
This was the dialogue overheard as Mrs. Bacon slammed the door.
Half an hour afterward Mr. Inderwick was conversing with Mr. Bacon.
“A rather queer affair, my dear fellow,” said Mr. Inderwick, who had lit a mild cigar and was in an excellent humor.
“Queer?” said Mr. Bacon with a dry air; “it’s awful!”
“Be a man and stiffen up, Bacon! You’re not the person I took you for. You are weakening, my dear Bacon. Have a drink.”
Mr. Bacon groaned.
“The odor of spirits is disagreeable to Mrs. Bacon.”
“Well, a cigar then?”
“Mrs. Bacon could never bear the smell of tobacco.”
“Oh, hang it! Well, lend me fifty or so. That sacque took all my funds.”
“I would with pleasure, my dear Inderwick; but—but Mrs. Bacon——”
“Not Mrs. Bacon again!”
“She has just—borrowed—my last dollar!”
Mr. Inderwick laughed heartily.
“My dear Bacon,” he said, “do you know my opinion of you? I regard you as the victim of—Mrs. Bacon!”
And a week afterward, when Mr. and Mrs. Inderwick were conversing:
“Sweetest,” said Mr. Inderwick, sitting very close to the lady, “if you’ll cut the acquaintance of Mrs. Bacon, I’ll drop Bacon.”
