For Better or Worse, Page 2

men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustlingsounded from the stairs. Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-builtold lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.

  Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,stared at her aghast. The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, andhuge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.

  "Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.

  The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seatingherself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.

  "We--we called to see you about a dear old pal--friend, I mean,"continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best. The best."

  "Yes?" said the old lady.

  "He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptomsof fainting, "for thir-ty-five years. Thir-ty-five years ago-very muchagainst his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a seav'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."

  "Yes?" said the old lady again.

  "I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton. "Both of us was cast awaywith him."

  He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance atthat gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.

  "We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates. "But we was rescued at last,and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."

  "It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got todo with me?"

  Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.

  "You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively. "Wot would yousay if I said it was--Ben Davis?"

  "I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.

  "Not--true?" said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully. "Wish Imay die----"

  "About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly. "The storythat I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife todo the best she could for herself. I suppose he's heard since that shehas come in for a bit of money."

  "Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressedartless surprise. "Money!"

  "Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemenround to see how the land lay."

  She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began totake a somewhat sombre view of the situation.

  "You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton."I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."

  "I don't suppose I should," said the other.

  "P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?" said Mr. Davis, breaking silenceat last.

  Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her headthoughtfully. "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hearit," she said at last. "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."

  Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,gave up his task. "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,gruffly. "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."

  "Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.

  "Don't you know me, Mary?"]

  "Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising. "Don't you know me, Mary? Why, Iknew you the moment you come into the room."

  He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.

  "If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly. "How dare you. Why,I've never seen you before in my life."

  "It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.

  "Hold your tongue," said the old lady.

  "Look at me!" commanded Mr. Davis, sternly. "Look at me straight in theeye."

  "Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply. "Look you in the eye,indeed! I don't want to look in your eye. What would people think?"

  "Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly. "This is anice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."

  "Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.

  "And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."

  He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed hersternly. Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots. She looked upand spoke mildly.

  "You're not my husband," she said. "You've made a mistake--I think youhad better go."

  "Ho!" said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh. "Indeed! And 'ow do you knowI'm not?"

  "For the best of reasons," was the reply. "Besides, how can you provethat you are? Thirty-five years is a long time."

  "'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly. "You'd besurprised 'ow slow the time passes. I was there with 'im, and I can laymy hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."

  "Nonsense!" said the old lady, vigorously. "Rubbish!"

  "I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye. "Doyou remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"

  "If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for thepolice."

  "You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully. "I rememberonce----"

  "If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll sendstraight off for the police. You and your serpents! I'll tell myhusband of you, that's what I'll do."

  "Your WHAT?" roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.

  "My husband. He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you. You'dbetter go before he comes in."

  "O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath. "Oh, so you been and gotmarried again, 'ave you? That's your love for your husband as was castaway while trying to earn a living for you. That's why you don't wantme, is it? We'll see. I'll wait for him."

  "You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with greatdignity. "I've only been married once."

  Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashionand stared at her.

  "Is--is somebody passing himself off as me?" he demanded. "'Cos if heis I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."

  "Certainly not."

  "But--but--"

  Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend. Mr. Wotton met hisgaze with dilated eyes.

  "You say you recognize me as your wife?" said the old lady.

  "Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.

  "It's very curious," said the other--"very. But are you sure? Lookagain."

  Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard. She bore hisscrutiny without flinching.

  "I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.

  "That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are abit alike. You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her housefor a bit. My name happens to be Smith."

  Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, staredat her open-mouthed.

  "We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "andBen's sight ain't wot it used to be. He strained it looking out for asail when we was on that desert----"

  "When--when'll she be back?" inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice atlast.

  The old lady affected to look puzzled. "But I thought you were certainthat I was your wife?" she said, smoothly.

  "My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully. "Thirty-five years is a longtime and people change a bit; I have myself. For one thing, I must sayI didn't expect to find 'er so stout."

  "Stout!" repeated the other, quickly.

  "Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly--"forpeople that like stoutness, that is. My wife used to 'ave a very goodfigger."

  Mr. Wotton nodded. "He used to rave about it on that des----"

  "When will she be back?" inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.

  Mrs. Smith shook her head. "I can't say," she replied, moving towardsthe door
. "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll