The Woman-Hater | Page 7

it. He is gone--gone of his
own accord. Give him your blessing--I have given him mine--and
forget him."
"Forget him! Never while I live. Is that your advice? Oh, Mr. Ashmead!
And the moment I saw your friendly face, I said to myself, 'I am no
longer alone: here is one that will help me.'"
"And so I will, you may be sure of that," said Ashmead, eagerly. "What
is the business?"
"The business is to find him. That is the first thing."
"But he is in England."

"Oh, no; that was eight months ago. He could not stay eight months in
any country; besides, there are no gambling-houses there."
"And have you been eight months searching Europe for this madman?"
"No. At first pride and anger were strong, and I said, 'Here I stay till he
comes back to me and to his senses.'"
"Brava!"
"Yes; but month after month went by, carrying away my pride and my
anger, and leaving my affection undiminished. At last I could bear it no
longer; so, as he would not come to his senses--"
"You took leave of yours, and came out on a wild-goose chase," said
Ashmead, but too regretfully to affront her.
"It _was,"_ said Ina; "I feel it. But it is not one _now,_ because I have
you to assist me with your experience and ability. You will find him for
me, somehow or other. I know you will."
Let a woman have ever so little guile, she must have tact, if she is a true
woman. Now, tact, if its etymology is to be trusted, implies a fine sense
and power of touch; so, in virtue of her sex, she pats a horse before she
rides him, and a man before she drives him. There, ladies, there is an
indictment in two counts; traverse either of them if you can.
Joseph Ashmead, thus delicately but effectually manipulated, swelled
with gratified vanity and said, "You are quite right; you can't do this
sort of thing yourself; you want an agent."
"Of course I do."
"Well, you have got one. Now let me see--fifty to one he is not at
Homburg at all. If he is, he most likely stays at Frankfort. He is a swell,
is he not?"
"Swell!" said the Anglo-Dane, puzzled. "Not that I am aware of." She
was strictly on her guard against vituperation of her beloved scamp.

"Pooh, pooh!" said Ashmead; "of course he is, and not the sort to lodge
in Homburg."
"Then behold my incompetence!" said Ina.
"But the place to look for him is the gambling-saloon. Been there?"
"Oh, no."
"Then you must."
"What! Me! Alone?"
"No; with your agent."
"Oh, my friend; I said you would find him."
"What a woman! She will have it he is in Homburg. And suppose we
do find him, and you should not be welcome?"
"I shall not be unwelcome. _I shall be a change."_
"Shall I tell you how to draw him to Homburg, wherever he is?" said
Ashmead, very demurely.
"Yes, tell me that."
"And do me a good turn into the bargain."
"Is it possible? Can I be so fortunate?"
"Yes; and _as you say,_ it is a slice of luck to be able to kill two birds
with one stone. Why, consider--the way to recover a man is not to run
after him, but to make him run to you. It is like catching moths; you
don't run out into the garden after them; you light the candle and open
the window, and they do the rest--as he will."
"Yes, yes; but what am I to do for _you?"_ asked Ina, getting a little
uneasy and suspicious.

"What! didn't I tell you?" said Ashmead, with cool effrontery. "Why,
only to sing for me in this little opera, that is all." And he put his hands
in his pockets, and awaited thunder-claps.
"Oh, that is all, is it?" said Ina, panting a little, and turning two great,
reproachful eyes on him.
"That is all," said he, stoutly. "Why, what attracted him at first? Wasn't
it your singing, the admiration of the public, the bouquets and bravas?
What caught the moth once will catch it again 'moping' won't. And
surely you will not refuse to draw him, merely because you can pull me
out of a fix into the bargain. Look here, I have undertaken to find a
singer by to-morrow night; and what chance is there of my getting even
a third-rate one? Why, the very hour I have spent so agreeably, talking
to you, has diminished my chance."
"Oh!" said Ina, "this is driving me into your net."
"I own it," said Joseph, cheerfully; "I'm quite unscrupulous, because I
know you will thank me afterward."
"The very idea of going back to the stage