Establishing Relations Page #2

"Establishing Relations" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous short story that explores the theme of social relationships and misunderstandings. Set in the late 19th or early 20th century, it follows the misadventures of a character as he navigates the complexities of making and maintaining connections with others. Jacobs' trademark wit and keen observation of human nature are evident, as characters often find themselves in hilariously awkward situations that reveal the absurdities of social conventions. Through a blend of comedy and insight, the story reflects on the challenges and quirks inherent in human interactions.

• Humour
• Short story

								

insane. “If he turns violent open the window and scream. I thought he
had brought bad news of Fred. How did he know about him?”

Her daughter shook her head and gazed curiously at their afflicted
visitor. She put his age down at twenty-five, and she could not help
thinking it a pity that so good-looking a young man should have lost
his wits.

“Bade Prudence good-bye at the docks,” continued Mr. Catesby, dreamily.
“You drew me behind a pile of luggage, Prudence, and put your head on
my shoulder. I have thought of it ever since.”

Miss Truefitt did not deny it, but she bit her lips, and shot a sharp
glance at him. She began to think that her pity was uncalled-for.

“I’m just going as far as the corner.”

“Tell me all that’s happened since I’ve been away,” said Mr. Catesby.

Mrs. Truefitt turned to her daughter and whispered. It might have been
merely the effect of a guilty conscience, but the visitor thought that
he caught the word “policeman.”

“I’m just going as far as the corner,” said Mrs. Truefitt, rising, and
crossing hastily to the door.

The young man nodded affectionately and sat in doubtful consideration
as the front door closed behind her. “Where is mother going?” he asked,
in a voice which betrayed a little pardonable anxiety.

“Not far, I hope,” said Prudence.

“I really think,” said Mr. Catesby, rising—“I really think that I had
better go after her. At her age——”

He walked into the small passage and put his hand on the latch.
Prudence, now quite certain of his sanity, felt sorely reluctant to let
such impudence go unpunished.

“Are you going?” she inquired.

“I think I’d better,” said Mr. Catesby, gravely. “Dear mother—”

“You’re afraid,” said the girl, calmly.

Mr. Catesby coloured and his buoyancy failed him. He felt a little bit
cheap.

“You are brave enough with two women,” continued the girl,
disdainfully; “but you had better go if you’re afraid.”

Mr. Catesby regarded the temptress uneasily. “Would you like me to
stay?” he asked.

“I?” said Miss Truefitt, tossing her head. “No, I don’t want you.
Besides, you’re frightened.”

Mr. Catesby turned, and with a firm step made his way back to the room;
Prudence, with a half-smile, took a chair near the door and regarded
her prisoner with unholy triumph.

“I shouldn’t like to be in your shoes,” she said, agreeably; “mother
has gone for a policeman.”

“Bless her,” said Mr. Catesby, fervently. “What had we better say to
him when he comes?”

“You’ll be locked up,” said Prudence; “and it will serve you right for
your bad behaviour.”

Mr. Catesby sighed. “It’s the heart,” he said, gravely. “I’m not to
blame, really. I saw you standing in the window, and I could see at
once that you were beautiful, and good, and kind.”

“I never heard of such impudence,” continued Miss Truefitt.

“I surprised myself,” admitted Mr. Catesby. “In the usual way I am very
quiet and well-behaved, not to say shy.”

Miss Truefitt looked at him scornfully. “I think that you had better
stop your nonsense and go,” she remarked.

“Don’t you want me to be punished?” inquired the other, in a soft
voice.

“I think that you had better go while you can,” said the girl, and at
that moment there was a heavy knock at the front-door. Mr. Catesby,
despite his assurance, changed colour; the girl eyed him in perplexity.
Then she opened the small folding-doors at the back of the room.

“You’re only—stupid,” she whispered. “Quick! Go in there. I’ll say
you’ve gone. Keep quiet, and I’ll let you out by-and-by.”

She pushed him in and closed the doors. From his hiding-place he heard
an animated conversation at the street-door and minute particulars as
to the time which had elapsed since his departure and the direction he
had taken.

“I never heard such impudence,” said Mrs. Truefitt, going into the
front-room and sinking into a chair after the constable had taken his
departure. “I don’t believe he was mad.”

“Only a little weak in the head, I think,” said Prudence, in a clear
voice. “He was very frightened after you had gone; I don’t think he
will trouble us again.”

“He’d better not,” said Mrs. Truefitt, sharply. “I never heard of such
a thing—never.”

She continued to grumble, while Prudence, in a low voice, endeavoured
to soothe her. Her efforts were evidently successful, as the prisoner
was, after a time, surprised to hear the older woman laugh—at first
gently, and then with so much enjoyment that her daughter was at some
pains to restrain her. He sat in patience until evening deepened into
night, and a line of light beneath the folding-doors announced the
lighting of the lamp in the front-room. By a pleasant clatter of
crockery he became aware that they were at supper, and he pricked up
his ears as Prudence made another reference to him.

“If he comes to-morrow night while you are out I sha’n’t open the
door,” she said. “You’ll be back by nine, I suppose.”

Mrs. Truefitt assented.

“And you won’t be leaving before seven,” continued Prudence. “I shall
be all right.”

Mr. Catesby’s face glowed and his eyes grew tender; Prudence was as
clever as she was beautiful. The delicacy with which she had intimated
the fact of the unconscious Mrs. Truefitt’s absence on the following
evening was beyond all praise. The only depressing thought was that
such resourcefulness savoured of practice.

He sat in the darkness for so long that even the proximity of Prudence
was not sufficient amends for the monotony of it, and it was not until
past ten o’clock that the folding-doors were opened and he stood
blinking at the girl in the glare of the lamp.

“Quick!” she whispered.

Mr. Catesby stepped into the lighted room.

“The front-door is open,” whispered Prudence. “Make haste. I’ll close
it.”

She followed him to the door; he made an ineffectual attempt to seize
her hand, and the next moment was pushed gently outside and the door
closed behind him. He stood a moment gazing at the house, and then
hastened back to his ship.

“Seven to-morrow,” he murmured; “seven to-morrow. After all, there’s
nothing pays in this world like cheek—nothing.”

He slept soundly that night, though the things that the second-engineer
said to him about wasting a hard-working man’s evening would have lain
heavy on the conscience of a more scrupulous man. The only thing that
troubled him was the manifest intention of his friend not to let him
slip through his fingers on the following evening. At last, in sheer
despair at his inability to shake him off, he had to tell him that he
had an appointment with a lady.

“Well, I’ll come, too,” said the other, glowering at him. “It’s very
like she’ll have a friend with her; they generally do.”

“I’ll run round and tell her,” said Catesby. “I’d have arranged it
before, only I thought you didn’t care about that sort of thing.”

“Female society is softening,” said the second-engineer. “I’ll go and

								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes