The record-union., 1893-10-21
A FOOLISH AFFAIR.


sons column in Trafalgar Square turned
slightly. He looked down Parliament
street at the light which, from the top of
the clock-tower, was staring steadily at
London with its four bright eyes. The
southeast lion snorted.
''Still sitting" he said bitterly: ''still
sitting"
II don't see so much of the House as
you do,n remarked the Camberwell bus
lion. He shifted round to look in the di-
rection of st. Stephens. ITS rather an
imposing affair, don't you think?'
"Yes," said the southeast lion thought
fully; "yes. it is an imposing affair"
They looked up to see whether Nelson
was coming down for one OF his usual
chats. There was no movement.
Got the silly hump about something.
expect" said the southeast lion.
He don't come on in this scene," said
the other; ''he's dead in this act. But
he's all right, bless you. He's 'arm-
less.n
Il wish you'd keep your waggery for
your tail.' said the other GROSSLY; sit
makes me feel tired.'
Talking Of tales" went on the Cam
berwell bus lion, ''did ever l tell you
that one about Professor Lumley and his
young wife?o
The southeast lion stified yawn. The
other began:
Professor Lumley was clever pro-
fessor at South Kensington, who knew
more about minerals and chalk and sand
stone than any one else in England had
forgotten. Having always told every
body that he was confirmed bachelor,
he quite early became engaged. Miss
Agatha Downing copied Murillos ana
things at the National Gallery here at the
back of us, and these two-the young
Professor with his pince-nez and the neat
cream -frocked girl-used to stroll round
the Square after o'clock on students
days. I've heard good deal of courtlng
since pve been here, but l declare to
goodness | never heard such Gourting as
| the Professor went in for"
"Warm?" inquired the southeast lion
| with interest.
"My dear lion," replied the other.
''icebergs were sultry to it. l don't be-
| lieve he ever said single word of love. L
don't really. He used to talk about his
work at the museum, he used to talk poll
tics, and he used to talk about the wealth
er, but there was none of your sweet
nothings and dear fooleries that the aver
age girl pants to hear"
"'Agatha,' he said one afternoon. 1t
was Friday, and she had under her arm a
stretched canvas.
Frederick
Isl think we might be married next
month"; They were both perfectly com
posed about it.
livery we'll, dear-next MONTH
Next month";
And the next month they came down
| the steps of St. Martins over the way.
n Il Il 4 Il. Il
J for some time. Afterwards / heard that
the Professor was engaged in some ex-
periments in regard TO a newly-discov-
cred coal vein, and these were taking up
| nearly all his leisure. lie read papers at
| the Royal Institution and he lectured on
| his subject in different parts of London
and the country, and he was away from
Cromwell Road a good deal. Mrs. Pro-
! fessor came down one day to the Square
and walked twice slowly round just as
she had used to do in her engaged days,
and she looked at me for a few moments
with so sad an expression that if | had
had heart it would have made me weep.
Then she went into the gallery. When
she came back en- route for the Under
ground Station at Charing Cross she was
not alone.
81 think, she said to her companion,
L think [ would rather you said good-by
| here, Mr.. Vernon
Must l say good-by, Mrs. Lumley?'
He was good-looking boyish fellow.
and straightforward, and he spoke slowly
and lazily as one who is not pressed for
time. You won't let me see you to the
station?' aaa
NO said Mrs. Lumley.
livery well,' said Mr.. Vernon. 'Tll
60 for loaf round the clubs Il think he
meant drink, but he said loaf. And.
Mrs. Lumley?'
"'Yes'
II you should come across anybody
who has any influence at Whitehall I
wish they'd use it on my behalf. I've
asked one or two people, but nobody
seems to know anybody. l should be so
glad to get away
:" i won't forget you, Mr.. Vernon: but
| scarcely know SOUL
There's job falling vacant at Loin-
dici in month or so,' went on Mr.. Ver-
non. i could do that very well: but
these contounded berths are purely mat
ter of-er-birth, don't you know He
spoke as though he were a son of the soil
lighting his way against barriers of CASTE
Il wish I'd chosen a Cabinet Minister for
a parent
"'rm sure you deserve to succeed ,
SAID Mrs. Lum1ey, encouragingly.
"Mr. Vernon looked thoughttully at
his boots for a moment, as though he
we're going to say something deprecatory
in reply to this. Then he took Mrs.
Lumley's hand, and said good-day. They
met pretty often afterwards-mainIy at
the gallery, where, indeed, the pictures
hear perhaps more in the way of whis-
pered conversations than is good for
them. l expect this is why they so often
want restoring. Each students day they
said good-by just here; and each stu
dents day they said it with increasing
warmth. Of course Pm no judge of these
things, but, l really don't think they
were in love with each other. l suppose
it was pleasant for poor little Mrs. Lum-
ley to meet some one who was amusing
and who sympathized with her woes;
and as for Vernon, why, until that con-
sulate came (and it seemed a long time
on the way, he had SO little to do that
this was to him a delightful way of fill
ing up the time.
''She told him all her troubles; how the
Professor was absorbed in his studies;
how he was frequently absent on his
lecturing duties; how, despite the fact
that he was good fellow and all that, yet
she was beginning to feel for him some
thing like aversion. She upbraided her.
self for it in good set terms. Why was
it, she asked, that the mere sight of the
red dent on either side of the Professors
nose, made by the pinch of his glasses,
irritated her beyond bearing? Why was
it that she felt no inclination to talk with
him as she did with others? Vernon
would try to answer her and find ex-
cuses for her, and it was agreeable for
Mrs. Lumley to listen to him.
But it was risky game to play. There
came an end to it. They were standing
here one afternoon. 1t was a sunshiny
afternoon, and the bright rays made the
water of the fountains sparkle and the
titles of the hotels shine again as though
they thought they were gold. The car
riages were busy, the buses were full:
just down the avenue a scarlet coach,
with an enthusiastic posthorn, had re-