Barry Pain

“ We shall soon be playing cricket together again.”
“Why, you forget, Mr. Peters,” said Mrs. Marks, “Elsa’s near seventeen now. Besides, you're too much of an invalid to think of running about. You’ve aged.” Mrs. Marks herself did not age; she was one of those hard, wiry women that are capable of looking forty for twenty years.
Elsa looked very pretty. She still wore her hair down, but her dresses were much longer. She had a very superior manner, and did not seem particularly glad to see Peters. She took one of the liquorice jujubes that he offered her. ”

“ I pointed that all out to Flynders’s cousin, and he—being good-natured and seeing what I was—got me this berth with this Flynders himself. So I left Melstowe, and I left Flynders’s cousin—left him, thanks to me, doing to my certain knowledge some gross more in the lemonade than he had ever done in the past.” Peters paused, and looked proud of himself. “Mind,” he went on, rather weakly, “I’m telling you all this not from any—any desire to tell any one anything, but because I may be giving up these rooms in two or three years, or even less. ”

“ Peters found himself very dull indeed when Elsa had gone. He thought it over, and concluded that he was a man who needed companionship. One night he wrote a long letter—not a love-letter—to Flynders’s cousin’s second daughter, and posted it; he got no reply, and a few months afterwards he read in Mrs. Marks’s newspaper the announcement that Flynders’s cousin’s second daughter had married the curate.
“She was always one for social success,” Peters reflected. ”

“ Peters replied, in the repressed and husky voice enjoined upon him.
“That all?”
“I’m afraid so. I had expected to be one of the firm, but there are difficulties. It seems to be usual for a solicitor to be articled, and I doubt if the firm will see its way to——”
Elsa yawned and interrupted. “That’ll do. This isn’t any good. Let’s play at something else. Can’t you think of anything?”
Peters had an idea. He passed a small confectioner’s shop on his way from business, and he had observed and remembered a label in the window.
“Look here, Elsa, do you think you could manage a liquorice jujube?” ”

“ Markham, so Elsa said, died; she was buried under the plane-tree. Peters dug the grave with his pocket-knife and a portion of a broken tea-cup. When the funeral service was over Peters produced a toy cricket set, and proposed a game. Elsa went in, and Peters bowled. After an hour and a half she retired hot; she was not out. Peters had bowled her twice, but on each occasion the ball was disqualified by the umpire. Elsa was the umpire. On the first occasion he had forgotten to say play, and on the second he had bowled faster than the rules of cricket permitted. ”

“ Peters was guilty of looking somewhat despondent as he moved away; this made Elsa rather angry. “You needn’t look so glum,” she said; “you didn’t expect me to keep it all my life, and have it buried with me—silly old card—did you?”
•••••
“One thing I will say,” Mrs. Marks observed, after Elsa had gone, “is that she does brighten up a house. And I hope her looks mayn’t be a snare to her. She has one young admirer already, and she a mere child! She’s promised to come again next year. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1928, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 95 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”