E waked me out of a sound sleep at midnight, but I had to forgive him, because our friendship was sturdy and his news was great. He made me get up and put on a dressing-gown, and furnish him with tobacco and light a pipe myself, and then he told me feverishly and in due detail how lucky he was (which I promptly conceded), and how a certain girl named Dorothea Gardner was beyond all praise (which I had always known), and exactly what had happened to them, and who was to be the best man. Incidentally, I had been expecting that appointment for the last six months.
"I just had to tell somebody—now—to-night!" said Perry, springing to his feet and tramping the floor excitedly. He was a little flushed, and handsomer than ever; his bigness and his boyishness, added to his exultation, made him quite irresistible even to me, so newly dragged from sleep. "I knew you'd be glad. It's incredible, isn't it? And, besides, I want to talk to you about business."
"Business?" I said.
"Yes, about that house they're building on the Sherbrooke estate," said Perry, smoking furiously. "You've got it on your books for sale, haven't you? I've always admired that spot. The trees are wonderful—nothing like 'em anywhere. And the house—it's going to be perfect, absolutely perfect! We've been up there nearly every evening. Dorothea's dotty about it, and so am I. It was up there to-night we found this out—we must have that house to live in! She wants it. I have only a couple of hundred pounds of my own, but I think I can borrow the money to buy it. What's the price?"
"Sherbrooke went abroad a month ago, and he fixed a minimum price of two thousand two hundred."
"He won't let it, I suppose?"
"No. He means to sell."
"Righto. See you to-morrow."
But on the morrow he came to me sadly crestfallen. His hope of raising the odd two thousand had crashed.
"Try again," I said reassuringly. "Why, Perry, that house has a dining-room, a drawing-room"
"I know all that. But"
"And, apart from the mere rooms, one and a quarter acres with a commanding view and fine old trees"
"But—I'm two thousand pounds short," said Perry. "I could just about afford the cellar, and part of the attic, and the kitchen sink! We used to go up to that place to sit and watch sunsets, long before they ever started building. And then we've seen that house go up bit by bit. We saw them dig the foundations, and crawled round the floor beams—we know every nail that's gone in it. And the arrangement's ideal, and it's just large enough and not an inch too large. There isn't a flaw in it anywhere. And Dorothea's felt the same way about it. And to-night—well, I—you see, that house is a part of the whole scheme." He broke off sharply, and from his attitude I could easily surmise the extent of the depression that had come upon him.
"Is Dorothea as enthusiastic as you are?"
Perry whirled and scorched me with his emphasis.
"As enthusiastic as Why, I want it, of course, but she's idiotic about it!"
"Pity the poor agent!" I said. "With two people going barmy in the crumpet about a house that lacks a tenant, and then complaining about the price. Perry "
"You don't understand," he said gloomily. "It's the combination of the land and the house—it can't be duplicated. That's the last scrap of land there is on the hill, and the house fits it."
"Two prospective buyers have already looked it over," I told him.
"Well"—Perry picked up his hat and moved towards the door—"I can't say much, but I don't mind telling you its an awful blow. I'd make every sacrifice to get that house for her. Maybe I can scheme it out in some way vet—anyway, I'll see you later."
It was on the following morning that Dorothea Gardner came for the first time to my office. I had known her since the age at which we were passionately devoted to peppermint lozenges, but she had never distinguished my business quarters by her presence, because she didn't believe in confusing commerce and society.