The Babe, who had entered into the spirit of the thing, bought a pair of gloves and a small reticule, and made his way to Bow Street.
"I want a woman's light brown wig," said the Babe to Mr. Cox, the perruquier.
Mr. Cox tried on two. The deceptive appearance of the second Mr. Cox pronounced as perfect.
"Looks more natural on you than your own hair, blessed if it doesn't!" said Mr. Cox.
The wig also was promised within the hour. The spirit of completeness descended upon the Babe. On his way back to his lodgings in Great Queen Street, he purchased a ladylike umbrella and a veil.
Now, a quarter of an hour after Johnny Bulstrode had made his exit by the door of Mr. Stinchcombe's shop, one, Harry Bennett, actor and member of the Autolycus Club, pushed it open and entered. The shop was empty. Harry Bennett hammered with his stick and waited.
A piled-up bundle of clothes lay upon the counter; a sheet of paper, with a name and address scrawled across it, rested on the bundle. Harry Bennett, given to idle curiosity, approached and read the same. Harry Bennett, with his stick, poked the bundle, scattering its items over the counter.
"Donth do thath!" said the shopman, coming up. "Juth been putting 'em together."
"What the devil," said Harry Bennett, "is Johnny Bulstrode going to do with that rig-out?"
"How thoud I know?" answered the shopman. "Private theathricals, I suppoth. Friend o' yourth?"
"Yes," replied Harry Bennett. "By Jove! he ought to make a good girl. Should like to see it!"
"Well arthk him for a ticket. Donth make 'em dirty," suggested the shopman.
"I must," said Harry Bennett, and talked about his own affairs.
The rig-out and the wig did not arrive at Johnny's lodgings within the hour as promised, but arrived there within three hours, which was as much as Johnny had expected. It took Johnny nearly an hour to dress, but at last he stood before the plate-glass panel of the wardrobe transformed. Johnny had reason to be pleased with the result. A tall, handsome girl looked back at him out of the glass--a little showily dressed, perhaps, but decidedly chic.
"Wonder if I ought to have a cloak," mused Johnny, as a ray of sunshine, streaming through the window, fell upon the image in the glass. "Well, anyhow, I haven't," thought Johnny, as the sunlight died away again, "so it's no good thinking about it."
Johnny seized his reticule and his umbrella and opened cautiously the door. Outside all was silent. Johnny stealthily descended; in the passage paused again. Voices sounded from the basement.
Feeling like an escaped burglar, Johnny slipped the latch of the big door and peeped out. A policeman, pasting, turned and looked at him. Johnny hastily drew back and closed the door again.
Somebody was ascending from the kitchen. Johnny, caught between two terrors, nearer to the front door than to the stairs, having no time, chose the street. It seemed to Johnny that the street was ****** for him. A woman came hurriedly towards him. What was she going to say to him? What should he answer her? To his surprise she passed him, hardly noticing him. Wondering what miracle had saved him, he took a few steps forward. A couple of young clerks coming up from behind turned to look at him, but on encountering his answering stare of angry alarm, appeared confused and went their way. It began to dawn upon him that mankind was less discerning than he had feared. Gaining courage as he proceeded, he reached Holborn. Here the larger crowd swept around him indifferent.
"I beg your pardon," said Johnny, coming into collision with a stout gentleman.
"My fault," replied the stout gentleman, as, smiling, he picked up his damaged hat.
"I beg your pardon," repeated Johnny again two minutes later, colliding with a tall young lady.
"Should advise you to take something for that squint of yours," remarked the tall young lady with severity.
"What's the matter with me?" thought Johnny. "Seems to be a sort of mist--" The explanation flashed across him. "Of course," said Johnny to himself, "it's this confounded veil!"
Johnny decided to walk to the Marble Soap offices. "I'll be more used to the hang of things by the time I get there if I walk," thought Johnny. "Hope the old beggar's in."
In Newgate Street, Johnny paused and pressed his hands against his chest. "Funny sort of pain I've got," thought Johnny. "Wonder if I should shock them if I went in somewhere for a drop of brandy?"
"It don't get any better," reflected Johnny, with some alarm, on reaching the corner of Cheapside. "Hope I'm not going to be ill.
Whatever--" The explanation came to him. "Of course, it's these damned stays! No wonder girls are short-tempered, at times."
At the offices of the Marble Soap, Johnny was treated with marked courtesy. Mr. Jowett was out, was not expected back till five o'clock. Would the lady wait, or would she call again? The lady decided, now she was there, to wait. Would the lady take the easy-chair? Would the lady have the window open or would she have it shut? Had the lady seen The Times?
"Or the Ha'penny Joker?" suggested a junior clerk, who thereupon was promptly sent back to his work.
Many of the senior clerks had occasion to pass through the waiting-room. Two of the senior clerks held views about the weather which they appeared wishful to express at length. Johnny began to enjoy himself. This thing was going to be good fun. By the time the slamming of doors and the hurrying of feet announced the advent of the chief, Johnny was looking forward to his interview.
It was briefer and less satisfactory than he had anticipated. Mr. Jowett was very busy--did not as a rule see anybody in the afternoon; but of course, a lady-- Would Miss--"
"Montgomery."
"Would Miss Montgomery inform Mr. Jowett what it was he might have the pleasure of doing for her?"
Miss Montgomery explained.
Mr. Jowett seemed half angry, half amused.
"Really," said Mr. Jowett, "this is hardly playing the game.
Against our fellow-men we can protect ourselves, but if the ladies are going to attack us--really it isn't fair."