Chapter 8 - The Inconsiderate Waiter

They were the family of William, one of our club waiters who hadbeen disappointing me grievously of late. Many a time have Ideferred dining several minutes that I might have the attendanceof this ingrate. His efforts to reserve the window-table for mewere satisfactory, and I used to allow him privileges, as tosuggest dishes; I have given him information, as that someone hadstartled me in the reading-room by slamming a door; I have shownhim how I cut my finger with a piece of string. William was noneof your assertive waiters. We could have plotted a murder safelybefore him. It was one member who said to him that Saucy Sarahwould win the Derby and another who said that Saucy Sarah had nochance, but it was William who agreed with both. The excellentfellow (as I thought him) was like a cheroot which may be smokedfrom either end.

I date his lapse from one evening when I was dining by thewindow. I had to repeat my order "Devilled kidney," and insteadof answering brightly, "Yes, sir," as if my selection of devilledkidney was a personal gratification to him, which is the mannerone expects of a waiter, he gazed eagerly out at the window, andthen, starting, asked, "Did you say devilled kidney, sir?" A fewminutes afterward I became aware that someone was leaning overthe back of my chair, and you may conceive my indignation ondiscovering that this rude person was William. Let me tell, inthe measured words of one describing a past incident, what nexttook place. To get nearer the window he pressed heavily on myshoulder. "William," I said, "you are not attending to me!"

To be fair to him, he shook, but never shall I forget hisaudacious apology, "Beg pardon, sir, but I was thinking ofsomething else."

And immediately his eyes resought the window, and this burst fromhim passionately, "For God's sake, sir, as we are man and man,tell me if you have seen a little girl looking up at the club-windows."

Man and man! But he had been a good waiter once, so I pointedout the girl to him. As soon as she saw William she ran into themiddle of Pall Mall, regardless of hansoms (many of which seemedto pass over her), nodded her head significantly three times andthen disappeared (probably on a stretcher). She was thetawdriest little Arab of about ten years, but seemed to havebrought relief to William. "Thank God!" said he fervently, andin the worst taste.

I was as much horrified as if he had dropped a plate on my toes."Bread, William," I said sharply.

"You are not vexed with me, sir?" he had the hardihood towhisper.

"It was a liberty," I said.

"I know, sir, but I was beside myself."

"That was a liberty again."

"It is my wife, sir, she--"

So William, whom I had favoured in so many ways, was a marriedman. I felt that this was the greatest liberty of all.

I gathered that the troublesome woman was ailing, and as one wholikes after dinner to believe that there is no distress in theworld, I desired to be told by William that the signals meant herreturn to health. He answered inconsiderately, however, that thedoctor feared the worst.

"Bah, the doctor," I said in a rage.

"Yes, sir," said William.

"What is her confounded ailment?"

"She was allus one of the delicate kind, but full of spirit, andyou see, sir, she has had a baby-girl lately--"

"William, how dare you," I said, but in the same moment I sawthat this father might be useful to me. "How does your babysleep, William?" I asked in a low voice, "how does she wake up? what do you put in her bath?"

I saw surprise in his face, so I hurried on without waiting foran answer. "That little girl comes here with a message from yourwife?"

"Yes, sir, every evening; she's my eldest, and three nods fromher means that the missus is a little better."

"There were three nods to-day?"

"Yes, sir.

"I suppose you live in some low part, William?"

The impudent fellow looked as if he could have struck me. "OffDrury Lane," he said, flushing, "but it isn't low. And now," hegroaned, "she's afeared she will die without my being there tohold her hand."

"She should not say such things."

"She never says them, sir. She allus pretends to be feelingstronger. But I knows what is in her mind when I am leaving thehouse in the morning, for then she looks at me from her bed, andI looks at her from the door--oh, my God, sir!"

"William!"

At last he saw that I was angry, and it was characteristic of himto beg my pardon and withdraw his wife as if she were someunsuccessful dish. I tried to forget his vulgar story inbilliards, but he had spoiled my game, and next day to punish himI gave my orders through another waiter. As I had the window-seat, however, I could not but see that the little girl was late,and though this mattered nothing to me and I had finished mydinner, I lingered till she came. She not only nodded threetimes but waved her hat, and I arose, having now finished mydinner.

William came stealthily toward me. "Her temperature has gonedown, sir," he said, rubbing his hands together.

"To whom are you referring?" I asked coldly, and retired to thebilliard-room, where I played a capital game.

I took pains to show William that I had forgotten hismaunderings, but I observed the girl nightly, and once, insteadof nodding, she shook her head, and that evening I could not getinto a pocket. Next evening there was no William in thedining-room, and I thought I knew what had happened. But,chancing to enter the library rather miserably, I was surprisedto see him on a ladder dusting books. We had the roompractically to ourselves, for though several members sat onchairs holding books in their hands they were all asleep, andWilliam descended the ladder to tell me his blasting tale. Hehad sworn at a member!

"I hardly knew what I was doing all day, sir, for I had left herso weakly that--"

I stamped my foot.

"I beg your pardon for speaking of her," he had the grace to say."But Irene had promised to come every two hours; and when shecame about four o'clock and I saw she was crying, it sort ofblinded me, sir, and I stumbled against a member, Mr. B----, and hesaid, 'Damn you!' Well, sir, I had but touched him after all,and I was so broken it sort of stung me to be treated so and Ilost my senses, and I said, 'Damn you!'"

His shamed head sank on his chest, and I think some of thereaders shuddered in their sleep.

"I was turned out of the dining-room at once, and sent here untilthe committee have decided what to do with me. Oh, sir, I amwilling to go on my knees to Mr. B----"

How could I but despise a fellow who would be thus abject for apound a week?

"For if I have to tell her I have lost my place she will justfall back and die."

"I forbid your speaking to me of that woman," I cried wryly,"unless you can speak pleasantly," and I left him to his fate andwent off to look for B----. "What is this story about yourswearing at one of the waiters?" I asked him.

"You mean about his swearing at me," said B----, reddening.

"I am glad that was it," I said, "for I could not believe youguilty of such bad form. The version which reached me was thatyou swore at each other, and that he was to be dismissed and youreprimanded."

"Who told you that?" asked B----, who is a timid man.

"I am on the committee," I replied lightly, and proceeded to talkof other matters, but presently B----, who had been reflecting,said: "Do you know I fancy I was wrong in thinking that thewaiter swore at me, and I shall withdraw the charge to-morrow."

I was pleased to find that William's troubles were near an endwithout my having to interfere in his behalf, and I thenremembered that he would not be able to see the girl Irene fromthe library windows, which are at the back of the club. I waslooking down at her, but she refrained from signalling becauseshe could not see William, and irritated by her stupidity I wentout and asked her how her mother was.

"My," she ejaculated after a long scrutiny of me, "I b'lieve youare one of them!" and she gazed at me with delighted awe. Isuppose William tells them of our splendid doings.

The invalid, it appeared, was a bit better, and this annoyingchild wanted to inform William that she had took all thetapiocar. She was to indicate this by licking an imaginary platein the middle of Pall Mall. I gave the little vulgarian ashilling, and returned to the club disgusted.

"By the way, William," I said, "Mr. B---- is to inform thecommittee that he was mistaken in thinking you used improperlanguage to him, so you will doubtless be restored to thedining-room to- morrow."

I had to add immediately, "Remember your place, William."

"But Mr. B---- knows I swore," he insisted.

"A gentleman," I replied stiffly, "cannot remember for many hourswhat a waiter has said to him."

"No, sir, but--"

To stop him I had to say, "And--ah--William, your wife is decidedlybetter. She has eaten the tapioca--all of it."

"How can you know, sir?"

"By an accident."

"Irene signed to the window?"

"No."

"Then you saw her and went out and--"

"How dare you, William?"

"Oh, sir, to do that for me! May God bl--"

"William."

He was reinstated in the dining-room, but often when I looked athim I seemed to see a dying wife in his face, and so therelations between us were still strained. But I watched thegirl, and her pantomime was so illuminating that I knew thesufferer had again cleaned the platter on Tuesday, had attempteda boiled egg on Wednesday (you should have seen Irene chipping itin Pall Mall, and putting in the salt), but was in a woful stateof relapse on Thursday.

"Is your mother very ill to-day, Miss Irene?" I asked, as soon asI had drawn her out of range of the club-windows.

"My!" she exclaimed again, and I saw an ecstatic look passbetween her and a still smaller girl with her, whom she referredto as a neighbour.

I waited coldly. William's wife, I was informed, had looked likenothing but a dead one till she got the brandy.

"Hush, child," I said, shocked. "You don't know how the deadlook."

"Bless yer!" she replied.

Assisted by her friend, who was evidently enormously impressed byIrene's intimacy with me, she gave me a good deal ofmiscellaneous information, as that William's real name was Mr.Hicking, but that he was known in their street, because of thenumber of his shirts, as Toff Hicking. That the street held heshould get away from the club before two in the morning, for hismissus needed him more than the club needed him. That Williamreplied (very sensibly) that if the club was short of waiters atsupper-time some of the gentlemen might be kept waiting for theirmarrow- bone. That he sat up with his missus most of the night,and pretended to her that he got some nice long naps at the club.That what she talked to him about mostly was the kid. That thekid was in another part of London (in charge of a person calledthe old woman), because there was an epidemic in Irene's street.

"And what does the doctor say about your mother?"

"He sometimes says she would have a chance if she could get herkid back."

"Nonsense."

"And if she was took to the country."

"Then why does not William take her?"

"My! And if she drank porty wine."

"Doesn't she?"

"No. But father, he tells her 'bout how the gentlemen drinksit."

I turned from her with relief, but she came after me.

"Ain't yer going to do it this time?" she demanded with a fallingface. "You done it last time. I tell her you done it"--shepointed to her friend who was looking wistfully at me--"ain't youto let her see you doing of it?"

For a moment I thought that her desire was another shilling, butby a piece of pantomime she showed that she wanted me to lift myhat to her. So I lifted it, and when I looked behind she had herhead in the air and her neighbour was gazing at her awestruck.These little creatures are really not without merit.

About a week afterward I was in a hired landau, holding anewspaper before my face lest anyone should see me in company ofa waiter and his wife. William was taking her into Surrey tostay with an old nurse of mine, and Irene was with us, wearingthe most outrageous bonnet.

I formed a mean opinion of Mrs. Hicking's intelligence from herpride in the baby, which was a very ordinary one. She created aregrettable scene when it was brought to her, because "she hadbeen feared it would not know her again." I could have told herthat they know no one for years had I not been in terror ofIrene, who dandled the child on her knees and talked to it allthe way. I have never known a bolder little hussy than thisIrene. She asked the infant improper questions, such as "Oo knowwho gave me this bonnet?" and answered them herself. "It was thepretty gentleman there," and several times I had to affect sleep,because she announced, "Kiddy wants to kiss the prettygentleman."

Irksome as all this necessarily was to a man of taste, I sufferedstill more acutely when we reached our destination, wheredisagreeable circumstances compelled me to drink tea with awaiter's family. William knew that I regarded thanks frompersons of his class as an outrage, yet he looked them though hedared not speak them. Hardly had he sat down at the table by myorders than he remembered that I was a member of the club andjumped up. Nothing is in worse form than whispering, yet againand again he whispered to his poor, foolish wife, "How are younow? You don't feel faint?" and when she said she felt likeanother woman already, his face charged me with the change. Icould not but conclude from the way she let the baby pound herthat she was stronger than she pretended.

I remained longer than was necessary because I had something tosay to William which I feared he would misunderstand, but when heannounced that it was time for him to catch a train back toLondon, at which his wife paled, I delivered the message.

"William," I said, backing away from him, "the head-waiter askedme to say that you could take a fortnight's holiday. Your wageswill be paid as usual."

Confound him.

"William," I cried furiously, "go away."

Then I saw his wife signing to him, and I knew she wanted to beleft alone with me.

"William," I cried in a panic, "stay where you are."

But he was gone, and I was alone with a woman whose eyes werefilmy. Her class are fond of scenes. "If you please, ma'am!" Isaid imploringly.

But she kissed my hand; she was like a little dog.

"It can be only the memory of some woman," said she, "that makesyou so kind to me and mine."

Memory was the word she used, as if all my youth were fled. Isuppose I really am quite elderly.

"I should like to know her name, sir," she said, "that I maymention her with loving respect in my prayers."

I raised the woman and told her the name. It was not Mary. "Butshe has a home," I said, "as you have, and I have none. Perhaps,ma'am, it would be better worth your while to mention me."

It was this woman, now in health, whom I intrusted with thepurchase of the outfits, "one for a boy of six months," Iexplained to her, "and one for a boy of a year," for the painterhad boasted to me of David's rapid growth. I think she was alittle surprised to find that both outfits were for the samehouse; and she certainly betrayed an ignoble curiosity about themother's Christian name, but she was much easier to brow-beatthan a fine lady would have been, and I am sure she and herdaughter enjoyed themselves hugely in the shops, from one ofwhich I shall never forget Irene emerging proudly with acommissionaire, who conducted her under an umbrella to the cabwhere I was lying in wait. I think that was the most celestialwalk of Irene's life.

I told Mrs. Hicking to give the articles a little active ill-treatment that they might not look quite new, at which sheexclaimed, not being in my secret, and then to forward them tome. I then sent them to Mary and rejoiced in my devilish cunningall the evening, but chagrin came in the morning with a letterfrom her which showed she knew all, that I was her Mr. Anon, andthat there never had been a Timothy. I think I was never sogravelled. Even now I don't know how she had contrived it.

Her cleverness raised such a demon in me that I locked away herletter at once and have seldom read it since. No married ladyshould have indited such an epistle to a single man. It said,with other things which I decline to repeat, that I was her goodfairy. As a sample of the deliberate falsehoods in it, I maymention that she said David loved me already. She hoped that Iwould come in often to see her husband, who was very proud of myfriendship, and suggested that I should pay him my first visitto- day at three o'clock, an hour at which, as I happened toknow, he is always away giving a painting-lesson. In short, shewanted first to meet me alone, so that she might draw thedelicious, respectful romance out of me, and afterward repeat itto him, with sighs and little peeps at him over herpocket-handkerchief.

She had dropped what were meant to look like two tears for meupon the paper, but I should not wonder though they were onlyartful drops of water.

I sent her a stiff and tart reply, declining to hold anycommunication with her.