LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM
"As though pepper and mustard were not facts," said Lewisham, scoring his solitary point that evening.
Chaffery admitted the collapse of his image in very complimentary terms, and Lewisham could not avoid a glance across the table at Ethel. He remembered immediately afterwards that Chaffery was a slippery scoundrel whose blame was better than his praise.
For a time the Crab engaged Chaffery, and the conversation languished. Mrs. Chaffery asked Ethel formal questions about their lodgings, and Ethel's answers were buoyant. "You must come and have tea one day," said Ethel, not waiting for Lewisham's indorsement, "and see it all."
Chaffery astonished Lewisham by suddenly displaying a complete acquaintance with his status as a South Kensington teacher in training. "I suppose you have some money beyond that guinea, said Chaffery off-handedly.
"Enough to go on with," said Lewisham reddening.
"And you look to them at South Kensington to do something for you—a hundred a year or so, when your scholarship is up?"
"Yes," said Lewisham a little reluctantly. "Yes. A hundred a year or so. That's the sort of idea. And there's lots of places beyond South Kensington, of course, even if they don't put me up there."
"I see," said Chaffery; "but it will be a pretty close shave for all that—one hundred a year. Well, well—there's many a deserving man has to do with
414
