Dialstone Lane, Part 3

"Don't know," said Mr. Stobell, passing his cup up. "But this trip won't upset her—she ain't going."

Mrs. Chalk exclaimed loudly and exchanged glances of consternation with Mrs. Stobell; Mr. Stobell, having explained the position, took some more bread and butter and munched placidly.

"Don't you think it would do her good?" said Mrs. Chalk, at last.

"Might," said Mr. Stobell, slowly, "and then, again, it mightn't."

"But there's no harm in trying," persisted Mrs. Chalk.

Mr. Stobell made no reply. Having reached his fifth slice he was now encouraging his appetite with apricot jam.

"And it's so cheap," continued Mrs. Chalk.

"That's the way I look at it. If she shuts up the house and gets rid of the servants, same as I am going to do, it will save a lot of money."

She glanced at Mr. Stobell, whose slowly working jaws and knitted brows appeared to indicate deep thought, and then gave a slight triumphant nod at his wife.

"Servants are so expensive," she murmured. "Really, I shouldn't be surprised if we saved money on the whole affair. And then think of her health. She has never quite recovered from that attack of bronchitis. She has never looked the same woman since. Think of your feelings if anything happened to her. Nothing would bring her back to you if once she went."

"Went where?" inquired Mr. Stobell, who was not attending very much.

"If she died, I mean," said Mrs. Chalk, shortly.

"We've all got to die some day," said the philosophic Mr. Stobell. "She's forty-six."

Mrs. Stobell interposed. "Not till September, Robert," she said, almost firmly.

"It wouldn't be nice to be buried at sea," remarked Mr. Chalk, contributing his mite to the discussion. "Of course, it's very impressive; but to be left down there all alone while the ship sails on must be very hard."

Mrs. Stobell's eyes began to get large. "I'm feeling quite well," she gasped.

"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Chalk, with a threatening glance at her husband. "Of course, we know that. But a voyage would do you good. You can't deny that."

Mrs. Stobell, fumbling for her handkerchief, said in a tremulous voice that she had no wish to deny it. Mr. Stobell, appealed to by the energetic Mrs. Chalk, admitted at once that it might do his wife good, but that it wouldn't him.

"We're going to be three jolly bachelors," he declared, and, first nudging Mr. Chalk to attract his attention, deliberately winked at him.

"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Chalk, drawing herself up; "but you forget that I am coming."

"Two jolly bachelors, then," said the undaunted Stobell.

"No," said Mrs. Chalk, shaking her head, "I am not going alone; if Mrs. Stobell can't come I would sooner stay at home."

Mr. Stobell's face cleared; his mouth relaxed and his dull eyes got almost kindly. With the idea of calling the attention of Mr. Chalk to the pleasing results of a little firmness he placed his foot upon that gentleman's toe and bore heavily.

"Best place for you," he said to Mrs. Chalk. "There's no place like home for ladies. You can have each other to tea every day if you like. In fact, there's no reason–" he paused and looked at his wife, half doubtful that he was conceding too much—"there's no reason why you shouldn't sleep at each other's sometimes."

He helped himself to some cake and, rendered polite by good-nature, offered some to Mrs. Chalk.

"Mind, I shall not go unless Mrs. Stobell goes," said the latter, waving the plate away impatiently; "that I am determined upon."

Mr. Chalk, feeling that appearances required it, ventured on a mild—a very mild—remonstrance.

"And he," continued Mrs. Chalk, sternly, indicating her husband with a nod, "doesn't go without me—not a single step, not an inch of the way."

Mr. Chalk collapsed and sat staring at her in dismay. Mr. Stobell, placing both hands on the table, pushed his chair back and eyed her disagreeably.

"It seems to me–" he began.

"I know," said Mrs. Chalk, speaking with some rapidity—"I know just how it seems to you. But that's how it is. If you want my husband to go you have got to have me too, and if you have me you have got to have your wife, and if–"

"What, is there any more of you coming?" demanded Mr. Stobell, with great bitterness.

Mrs. Chalk ignored the question. "My husband wouldn't be happy without me," she said, primly. "Would you, Thomas?"

"No," said Mr. Chalk, with a gulp.

"We—we're going a long way," said Mr. Stobell, after a long pause.

"Longer the better," retorted Mrs. Chalk.

"We're going among savages," continued Mr. Stobell, casting about for arguments; "cannibal savages."

"They won't eat her," said Mrs. Chalk, with a passing glance at the scanty proportions of her friend, "not while you're about."

"I don't like to take my wife into danger," said Mr. Stobell, with surly bashfulness; "I'm—I'm too fond of her for that. And she don't want to come. Do you, Alice?"

"No," said Mrs. Stobell, dutifully, "but I want to share your dangers, Robert."

"Say 'yes' or 'no' without any trimmings," commanded her husband, as he intercepted a look passing between her and Mrs. Chalk. "Do-you-want-to- come?"

Mrs. Stobell trembled. "I don't want to prevent Mr. Chalk from going," she murmured.

"Never mind about him," said Mr. Stobell.

"Do—you—want—to—come.

"Yes," said Mrs. Stobell.

Her husband, hardly able to believe his ears, gazed at her in bewilderment. "Very well, then," he said, in a voice that made the tea-cups rattle. "COME!"

He sat with bent brows gazing at the table as Mrs. Chalk, her face wreathed in triumphant smiles, began to discuss yachting costumes and other necessities of ocean travel with the quivering Mrs. Stobell. Unable to endure it any longer he rose and, in a voice by no means alluring, invited Mr. Chalk into the garden to smoke a pipe; Mr. Chalk, helping himself to two pieces of cake as evidence, said that he had not yet finished his tea. Owing partly to lack of appetite and partly to the face which Mr. Stobell pressed to the window every other minute to entice him out, he made but slow progress.

The matter was discussed next day as they journeyed down to Biddlecombe with Mr. Tredgold to complete the purchase of the schooner, the views of the latter gentleman coinciding so exactly with those of Mr. Stobell that Mr. Chalk was compelled to listen to the same lecture twice.

Under this infliction his spirits began to droop, nor did they revive until, from the ferry-boat, his eyes fell upon the masts of the Fair Emily, and the trim figure of Captain Brisket standing at the foot of the steps awaiting their arrival.

"We've had a stroke of good luck, gentlemen," said Brisket, in a husky whisper, as they followed him up the steps. "See that man?"