Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 December 1884 — Mr. GILFIL'S MANEUVER. [ARTICLE]

Mr. GILFIL'S MANEUVER.

BY M. C. FARLEY.

It was a regular crush. Not one of the “dear five hundred” had sent an excuse, but, to the last man and the last woman, had put in an appearance. And the result was something unprecedented, even to habitual party-goers. Mr. Gilfil, Junior, just returned from a two years’ absence in Europe, immediately voted the whole thing a “deuced bore, ” as he leisurely ascended the broad marble steps and made his way to the gentlemen’s dressing-room. A man in siting hastened to his assistance. “I am all right, am I not?” asked Mr. Gilfil, languidly. “Right as a trivet, sir,” said the valet, respectfully, his eye resting approvingly upon the tall and well-built figure, attired in irreproachable evening costume;. “but if your hooka, sir, was 'lowered a trifle to the left ” He finished the sentence by hastily adjusting the spray of moss rosebuds in the required position. _ Mr. Gilfil was watching the operation critically in the long mirror. “Aw! yes, thank you,” said he, carelessly running his white fingers through his perfumed locks. “That is decidedly bettau. Here’s a coin for you, my man.”

He slipped a silver piece into the valet’s willing palm, and, taking one more survey of liis appearance in the. mirror, and evidently satified with the reflection that he saw there, turned \ himself slowly about, and languidly drifted down the staircase. Mr. Gilfil was very late—being, in fact, the last Suest to arrive, but there is nothing etrimental in being late at a swell reception; indeed, no. Mr. Gilfil had not mingled in the best English society to W.O purpose during his long sojourn and he was much too well Aware of his own importance in the fashionable to be anything -else than chary in the bestowal of his ; presence upon society, now that he had returned to his native land. His detractors—and he had not been at home two hours ere he found some—declared behind his back, and under their breath, that Mr. Gilfil hid come back to America so changed that in manners and aphe was more English than the iglish were themselves. And, to the casual observer, this seemed to be so; for there was the inevitable English whisker—the incomJnrehensible English contempt for the etter “r,” and a predominance of hideous English plaid in the extensive Wardrobe. And, as if to crown the whole, over the curious defection of ■speech, the objectionable whisker, and the hateful clothes, worse than all of them combined was the cold, supreme, chilling English indifference of manner that now seemed to be one of the new characteristics of the returned traveler.

But Mr. Gilfil’s traducers unjustly Accused him. Down under the crust of bis English clothes and his English manners, smoldered the inextinguishable love of home and native land, and, it occasion had re juired, Mr. Gilfil oould and would have hurrahed for Uncle Sam and brave old “Yankee Doodle” as lustily as any of them. Mr. Gilfil had been introduced to English society by Lord Eandolph •Churchill, and the said society had given him a cordial reception. But while he had hobnobbed with counts And countesses, and lords and ladies, he had at heart remained faithful to Yankee traditions, and proved his faithfulness by falling in love with a fair countryman, whqm he met while on a little tour in Belgium. An ogre of a guardian had suddenly Appeared upon the scene, however, and crudely nipped Mr. Gilfil's love affibr tin the bud, by disappearing with the young lady. The disappointed lover "had made many futile efforts to trace •them; but at last desisted, and, rather 4ired of everything—his British friends included —had turned his back upon them and come home. The first thing that met him upon ids return, was an invitation to the JftacCabe reception, and, much against his will, he had dressed and found his way to the McCabe mansion. He loitered on the magnificent staircase, looking down at the surging tide of humanity, as it drifted beneath him, the gleaming jewels, the shimmering nilks,

the beautiful flowers, all combining to make a picture no artist could look upon and fail to remember. Mr. Gilfil gradually reached the bottom steps. As he did so, a tall, fair girl, in white silk and pearls, passed h m by, leaning on the arm of a greyhaired veteran in a General’s uniform. “Avis.” With difficulty Mr. Gilfil repressed the exclamation that was upon his lips; as it it was, he hurried after her.

Then it occurred to him suddenly that he had not yet paid his devoirs to his hostess, and he listened, as in a dream, to the voice of the footman announcing his name. The MacCabes were very particular friends of his, and Mrs. McCabe, a pretty, fashionable woman of two-and-thirty, immediately took possession of him. “Bad boy,” said she, playfully tapping his shoulder with her fan. “Where have you kept yourself, and why are you so late V ” “Don’t scold,” said young Gilfil, languidly, taking hold of the pearl and gold tablets swinging at her wrist. “My dear Mrs. MacCabe, may I have a dawnce? ” “Two of them,” returned his amiable hostess. Mr. Gilfil immediately put himself down for a couple of waltzes and a redowa. Mrs. MacCabe consulted her tablets as he dropped them. She looked pleased. “Then you haven’t forgotten,” said she, laughing softly, as her quick eye took in the dances lie had marked opposite his name.

“Naw,” returned Mr. Gilfil, easily, “it is is not possible to forget the fact that you are one of the most elegant dawncers in America. And my preference is for round dawnces, if you remember.” Hft big blue-gray eyes were roving restlessly over the sea of faces about him, as if in search of some particular one, that he did not find. “Fatterer!” At that instant the band broke into a burst of entrancing melody. Unconsciously Mrs. McCabe’s foot beat time to the music. “The Cornflower, is it not? and our waltz, if I am not mistaken,” said Gilfil, claiming her hand. Mrs. McCabe was an admirable dancer; ditto Mr. Gilfil; and they were soon the “observed of all observers,” as they went circling over the polished floor.

The tall, fair young girl in the pea ls and white silk gown, who was still leaning on the arm of the grayhaired gentleman in the general’s uniform, stood watching the dancers from a shadowy alcove. “Who's the gentleman with Mrs. MacCabe, Avis?” growled the veteran, in a deep undertone. “I think he is a Mr. Gilfil, papa,” said Avis, her fair face flushing slightly. “Not that d d English snob you met in Belgium?” “I am told he is an American, papa.” “English or American, Avis, a snob’s a snob, nothing more nor less,” retorted the disgruntled General, savagely. “And by the holy nose of Moses, lie won’t be allowed to come monkeying around you.” “No, papa,” said Avis, faintly. “I haven’t the pleasure of his acquaintance, and am not dying to have it either. I’ve heard of him, and hearsay evidence is enough for me, and for you, too, Avis. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Miss Avis had turned quite white, and unconsciously began pulling her bouquet to pieces. “I’m dead against snobs. English snobs are bad enough, but American snobs are fifty per cent, worse, and they shan’t come hanging about you, my dear. You are my only daughter, and I’ll have a son-in-law to my notion, or I won’t have any. No American Mr. Gilfils, with patent manners and patent English garments, can aspire to your hand, Avis.”

“Why do you hate him so, papa? He saved my life, dou’t you remember?” “Pah! I’ve heard the particulars of the whole affair, and for a well-trained Yankee girl I must say, Avis, that j|ou disgraced your countrywomen. Any girl could have waded from that creek unaided. Saved—pah!” Miss Avis unconsciously made a picture as she stood there looking like a tall, white lily against the dark velvet draperies behind her. Mr. Gilfil’s roving glance suddenly spied her. “Would you mind telling me who the tall party is in the uniform there by that lovely girl ?” asked he of his partner as they ceased circling about the room and leisurely approached the refreshment salon.

“Gen. Winfield; the lady is his only daughter. Shall I introduce you?” “Naw,” said Gilfil, laughing. “I fawncy the pleasure would not be mutual ; that is, not agreeable to the other gentleman. As to the lady, I met her in Belgium. ”

Mr. Gilfil looked expressively into his companion’s eyes and tapped his left breast significantly. “You are not serious,” said Mrs. MacCabe, smothering a laugh. “Never more so in my life,” returned Mr. Gilfil quietly, “and we were getting on famously when that odious old general came swooping down upon us from some unknown corner of the earth and spirited Avis away.” “He is determined Avis shall marry a man who knows how to work. He took you for an Englishman, and he hates the English like poison. You may depend, Mr. Gilfil, that nobody but a horny-handed son of toil will be permitted to marry the General’s daughter.” Mr. Gilfil’s large, languid, blue gray eyes rested for a moment upon his companion’s own. “I would be willing to wager a good round sum, that I’ll officiate yet as the General’s son-in-law,” said he, softly. * • * *• *

Gen. Winfield rose one morning, not long after, feeling very much out of sorts. * He was a plain ffian and lived in a quiet manner, abhoring affectation and snobbery of any sort; but for some reason he had re aified in his service for years a faithful old man, who served him by turns, and as occasion required,

as valet, coachman, gardener, and companion as well. But this paragon was gone. Quite unexpectedly Tibbs had received a letter frpm a lawyer, setting forth the fact that a snug legacy had been left to him, and forthwith Tibbs excused himself from the General’s service, and set up for a gentleman on his own account.

The General waxed wroth at this step on Tibbs’ part. “I wouldn t have thought it of Tibbs, the ungrateful scamp, ” cried the irritable old veteran, “but I'll be even with him—l’ll get me another man.” He advertised in the Daily Times, and no sooner had he done so than he repented, it for it seemed as if every able-bodied man in the country was in starch of that particular situation. “Now. then,” said the General to the score or so of men who appeared before him, “I want a sort of general purpose man, and I shan’t hire any one who cannot drive my coach in good shape round the square. ” Twenty voices vociferated the proficiency of their owners as first-class whips. “lie must be a good driver, and a good reader, and possess a knowledge of the standard poets. I adore poetry, particularly Homer’s. Stand out, now, all you who have read Homer.” Barely one responded. “By the Lo d Harry, only one,” roared the General; “and perhaps you are shamming. I’ll test your knowledge. Who was PeDelope, tell me that?” A tall, English-appearing young fellow, who was the one admitting a knowledge of Homer’s works, answered: “The wife of Ulysses.” “And Telemachus?” “The child of the Trojan hero.” “You can drive?” “Like Jehu.” “Good. Have you references?” “In my pocket. ” “By Jove! I guess you’ll do. And that reminds me—who was Jove?” “It has been insinuated that he was a heathen god.” “The rest of you may go,” cried the General, waving his hand in dismissal to the disappointed crowd. “This is the man for me. ”

The General led the way to the breakfast-room. The mail had just been brought in, and Avia sat carelessly look tig it over. “Avis,” cried the Veteran, “this is my new man, and I believe he’s a treasure. What is your name—l forgot to ask it before?” “Tawrnus.” Avis started suddenly at the sound of the voice, and glanced at the new arrival, the color coming and going in her face. “Thomas! Very well, Thomas, you may begin your duties by reading the letters to me this morning.” Thomas darted a quick and expressive glauco at the General’s daughter, and o2iened the correspondence. It was a miscellaneous lot. There was a dun from the hatter, likewise one from the butcher, and a long begging letter from the Chairman of a political committee; a couple of pithy communications from an old army chum of the General’s; and, last .of all, a thick, squai’e envelope, directed in a scrawling hand, and stamped with a coat-of-arms. The General listened to this communication in blank amazement.

“What in the d—euee do I hear? Bead that again, Thomas!” roared he. Thomas looked for a moment over the top of the sheet at the General’s daughter, who had grown as red as a rose, and read again: Gkn. Winfikld; Have I your permission to pay my addresses to your daughter.' I made her acquaintance In Belgium a year ago, and I find that time has only made her ima,e dearer to me. My lortune Is ample, and I can refer you to my solicitors, Messrs. Beale & Beale, who will answer any question you may like to ask concerning me. Yours, hoping for a speedy reply, Raymond T. Gilfil, Jn. The General was black with passion. “Thomas!” “Yes, sir.”

“Do you see the tongs yonder?” “Plainly.” “Well, sir, pick that letter up with those tongs and put it on the coals in the grate there; at once, sir!” Thomas consigned the offending missive to the flames. “Old fool,” he muttered, as the letter blazed up in his face, “a cantankerous old fool!” “What’s that?” roared the General. “Cool, sir; the impudence of the thing, yon know; very cool.” “Oh, very well! Now then, Thomas?” “I hear you.” “If this d d Mr. Gilfil dares to present himself at my door I am not at home to him. " “No?” “If he asks for Miss Avis, you are to tell him that Miss Avis is out; and, if you will punctuate your statement by kicking him off the doorsteps, you’ll not only place me under great personal obligations, but you will earn a * tenner ’ at the same time. ”

A week passed by. The General was infatuated with his new man, and blessed the day that Tibbs left his service to set up as an ornament to society. Tibbs had been well enough in his day, and on compulsion had been known to read Homer, but Tibbs could not be compared with Thomas. Besides in some things Tibbs was coarse. He had an elderly habit of dropping off to sleep at unexpected times, and a beastly snore that was certainly very trying to a person of the General’s temperament. Thomas, on the contrary, was a gentleman with a gentleman’s refined taste, Moreover, he was a scholar, and had Homer at his tongue’s end, and he delighted in reciting whole pages of the Odyssey to the enthusiastic old soldier, who, in listening to the burning story of the Hellenic wars, seemed to fight his own battles over again. In the second week of Thomas’ advent, the Gen#al was taken with an attack of malaria, and if the “new man” had seemed a treasure before, the veteran found him invaluable now. No son could have tended a beloved father more tenderly than Thomas tended the battered old soldier.

“By gad,” e.aculated the patient, one day, as he found himself convalescent aDd sitting up once more in his favorite chair by the fire, “Thomas, I don’t un-

derstand how a man with your attainments is contented to occupy an inferior position. By gad, sir, you are an ornament to the best society, if you could only realize it.” “In ray time, sir, I have mingled in the best society,” returned Thomas, quietly. “I believe yon, by gad, I do, and as sure as my name is Winfield, you shall again.” “The best society is something of a bore at times. ”

“There’s nothing truer; still it’s a good thing for a man to have an entree in what the world is pleased to call ‘aristocratic circles.’ I suppose you lost your fortune and your friends forsook you, as a natural consequence. But you’ll find a friend in me, by gad; a friend in foul weather as well as fair. There is my hijnd on that. I always wanted a son, and never had one; but you shall be that son.” “Thank yon. I appreciate your kindness. My fortune, however, is still my own, and it is not from poverty that I am in my present situation.” The General was in the act of spreading his handkerchief over his face, preparatory to taking a nap. He paused in the operation and stared amazedly at his man.

. “Not poverty!” said he, in intense surprise. “Then what on earth was your reason, if I may ask ?” “Before I tell you my motive in assuming this position, I want to remind you of what you said a little while ago.” “Remind nothing,” cried the General ; “have no fear. I shan’t go back on my promise, for I fancy that I know an honest man when I see him. My word is as good as my bond, so proceed.” . “You were so bitterly opposed to me that, as I was fully determined upon it, I have been forced to resort to strategy in order to make your acquaintance.” “Stop! ” roared the warrior, waving his handkerchief frantically. “Call Avis.”

“I’m here, papa,” said that young lady, coming out from behind a curtain. “Thomas, you’ve cheated me,” cried the General, with some heat. “Avis, who is this man ? ” “ Oh, papa! ” faltered Avis, deprecatingly. “Speak!” “He is—is Mr. Gilfil.” “P-r-e-c-i-s-e-l-y,” grunted the General; “why in the deuce didn’t I recognize him in the first place ? I saw him at the McCabe reception.” He studied Thomas’ face for a moment. “I know the reason,” he cried; “Mr. Gilfil, where is that abominable English whisker that you wore at that party ?” Mr. Gilfil rubbed his hand over his smoothly shaven face. “That whisker is one of the sacrifices I made upon the shrine of success,” said he, meekly. The General looked askance from one to the other.

“You’re a pair of ’em,” said he, with withering sarcasm; “a pair of ’em, I must say.” With that he shook out the folds of his red bandana,, and, spreading it over his lace, composed himself to sleep. Mr. Gilfil sat down upon one side cf the doughty warrior, and motioned to Avis to sit down upon the other, where they quietly waited for him to awake. It was not long. The bandana suddenly dropped to the floor, disclosing a grinning, rubicund countenance.

“Thomas,” cried the General, briskly. “Yes, sir.” “If Mr. Gilfil should happen to call at any time, tell him that Gen. Winfield is in, and will be happy to see him,” “I will, sir, and thank you.” “And if he should inquire for Miss Avis, you are to tell him that Miss Avis is in the parlor, and she will be de-lighted—mark that now—de-lighted to receive the gentleman.”

“I am to understand from this—” began Mr. Gilfil, with some agitation. “That the best of success attends Mr. Gilfil’s maneuver,” interrupted the General, blandly. “And you may step round and notify Mr. Gilfil’s solicitors to confer with my lawyer at once; we will arrange the preliminaries for the marriage * settlements without delay.”