Louis
"It would be jolly to spend Easter in Vienna this year," saidStrudwarden, "and look up some of my old friends there. It's about thejolliest place I know of to be at for Easter--"
"I thought we had made up our minds to spend Easter at Brighton,"interrupted Lena Strudwarden, with an air of aggrieved surprise.
"You mean that you had made up your mind that we should spend Easterthere," said her husband; "we spent last Easter there, and Whitsuntide aswell, and the year before that we were at Worthing, and Brighton againbefore that. I think it would be just as well to have a real change ofscene while we are about it."
"The journey to Vienna would be very expensive," said Lena.
"You are not often concerned about economy," said Strudwarden, "and inany case the trip of Vienna won't cost a bit more than the rathermeaningless luncheon parties we usually give to quite meaninglessacquaintances at Brighton. To escape from all that set would be aholiday in itself."
Strudwarden spoke feelingly; Lena Strudwarden maintained an equallyfeeling silence on that particular subject. The set that she gatheredround her at Brighton and other South Coast resorts was composed ofindividuals who might be dull and meaningless in themselves, but whounderstood the art of flattering Mrs. Strudwarden. She had no intentionof foregoing their society and their homage and flinging herself amongunappreciative strangers in a foreign capital.
"You must go to Vienna alone if you are bent on going," she said; "Icouldn't leave Louis behind, and a dog is always a fearful nuisance in aforeign hotel, besides all the fuss and separation of the quarantinerestrictions when one comes back. Louis would die if he was parted fromme for even a week. You don't know what that would mean to me."
Lena stooped down and kissed the nose of the diminutive brown Pomeranian
that lay, snug and irresponsive, beneath a shawl on her lap.
"Look here," said Strudwarden, "this eternal Louis business is getting tobe a ridiculous nuisance. Nothing can be done, no plans can be made,without some veto connected with that animal's whims or convenience beingimposed. If you were a priest in attendance on some African fetish youcouldn't set up a more elaborate code of restrictions. I believe you'dask the Government to put off a General Election if you thought it wouldinterfere with Louis's comfort in any way."
By way of answer to this tirade Mrs. Strudwarden stooped down again andkissed the irresponsive brown nose. It was the action of a woman with abeautifully meek nature, who would, however, send the whole world to thestake sooner than yield an inch where she knew herself to be in theright.
"It isn't as if you were in the least bit fond of animals," went onStrudwarden, with growing irritation; "when we are down at Kerryfield youwon't stir a step to take the house dogs out, even if they're dying for arun, and I don't think you've been in the stables twice in your life. Youlaugh at what you call the fuss that's being made over the exterminationof plumage birds, and you are quite indignant with me if I interfere onbehalf of an ill-treated, over-driven animal on the road. And yet youinsist on every one's plans being made subservient to the convenience ofthat stupid little morsel of fur and selfishness."
"You are prejudiced against my little Louis," said Lena, with a world oftender regret in her voice.
"I've never had the chance of being anything else but prejudiced againsthim," said Strudwarden; "I know what a jolly responsive companion adoggie can be, but I've never been allowed to put a finger near Louis.You say he snaps at any one except you and your maid, and you snatchedhim away from old Lady Peterby the other day, when she wanted to pet him,for fear he would bury his teeth in her. All that I ever see of him isthe top of his unhealthy-looking little nose, peeping out from his basketor from your muff, and I occasionally hear his wheezy little bark whenyou take him for a walk up and down the corridor. You can't expect oneto get extravagantly fond of a dog of that sort. One might as well workup an affection for the cuckoo in a cuckoo-clock."
"He loves me," said Lena, rising from the table, and bearing the shawl-swathed Louis in her arms. "He loves only me, and perhaps that is why Ilove him so much in return. I don't care what you say against him, I amnot going to be separated from him. If you insist on going to Vienna youmust go alone, as far as I am concerned. I think it would be much moresensible if you were to come to Brighton with Louis and me, but of courseyou must please yourself."
"You must get rid of that dog," said Strudwarden's sister when Lena hadleft the room; "it must be helped to some sudden and merciful end. Lenais merely making use of it as an instrument for getting her own way ondozens of occasions when she would otherwise be obliged to yieldgracefully to your wishes or to the general convenience. I am convincedthat she doesn't care a brass button about the animal itself. When herfriends are buzzing round her at Brighton or anywhere else and the dogwould be in the way, it has to spend whole days alone with the maid, butif you want Lena to go with you anywhere where she doesn't want to goinstantly she trots out the excuse that she couldn't be separated fromher dog. Have you ever come into a room unobserved and heard Lenatalking to her beloved pet? I never have. I believe she only fussesover it when there's some one present to notice her."
"I don't mind admitting," said Strudwarden, "that I've dwelt more thanonce lately on the possibility of some fatal accident putting an end toLouis's existence. It's not very easy, though, to arrange a fatality fora creature that spends most of its time in a muff or asleep in a toykennel. I don't think poison would be any good; it's obviously horriblyover-fed, for I've seen Lena offer it dainties at table sometimes, but itnever seems to eat them."
"Lena will be away at church on Wednesday morning," said ElsieStrudwarden reflectively; "she can't take Louis with her there, and sheis going on to the Dellings for lunch. That will give you several hoursin which to carry out your purpose. The maid will be flirting with thechauffeur most of the time, and, anyhow, I can manage to keep her out ofthe way on some pretext or other."
"That leaves the field clear," said Strudwarden, "but unfortunately mybrain is equally a blank as far as any lethal project is concerned. Thelittle beast is so monstrously inactive; I can't pretend that it leaptinto the bath and drowned itself, or that it took on the butcher'smastiff in unequal combat and got chewed up. In what possible guisecould death come to a confirmed basket-dweller? It would be toosuspicious if we invented a Suffragette raid and pretended that theyinvaded Lena's boudoir and threw a brick at him. We should have to do alot of other damage as well, which would be rather a nuisance, and theservants would think it odd that they had seen nothing of the invaders."
"I have an idea," said Elsie; "get a box with an air-tight lid, and borea small hole in it, just big enough to let in an indiarubber tube. PopLouis, kennel and all, into the box, shut it down, and put the other endof the tube over the gas-bracket. There you have a perfect lethalchamber. You can stand the kennel at the open window afterwards, to getrid of the smell of gas, and all that Lena will find when she comes homelate in the afternoon will be a placidly defunct Louis."
"Novels have been written about women like you," said Strudwarden; "youhave a perfectly criminal mind. Let's come and look for a box."
Two mornings later the conspirators stood gazing guiltily at a stoutsquare box, connected with the gas-bracket by a length of indiarubbertubing.
"Not a sound," said Elsie; "he never stirred; it must have been quitepainless. All the same I feel rather horrid now it's done."
"The ghastly part has to come," said Strudwarden, turning off the gas."We'll lift the lid slowly, and let the gas out by degrees. Swing thedoor to and fro to send a draught through the room."
Some minutes later, when the fumes had rushed off, he stooped down andlifted out the little kennel with its grim burden. Elsie gave anexclamation of terror. Louis sat at the door of his dwelling, head erectand ears pricked, as coldly and defiantly inert as when they had put himinto his execution chamber. Strudwarden dropped the kennel with a jerk,and stared for a long moment at the miracle-dog; then he went into a pealof chattering laughter.
It was certainly a wonderful imitation of a truculent-looking toyPomeranian, and the apparatus that gave forth a wheezy bark when youpressed it had materially helped the imposition that Lena, and Lena'smaid, had foisted on the household. For a woman who disliked animals,but liked getting her own way under a halo of unselfishness, Mrs.Strudwarden had managed rather well.
"Louis is dead," was the curt information that greeted Lena on her returnfrom her luncheon party.
"Louis _dead_!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, he flew at the butcher-boy and bit him, and he bit me, too, when Itried to get him off, so I had to have him destroyed. You warned me thathe snapped, but you didn't tell me that he was downright dangerous. Ishall have to pay the boy something heavy by way of compensation, so youwill have to go without those buckles that you wanted to have for Easter;also I shall have to go to Vienna to consult Dr. Schroeder, who is aspecialist on dog-bites, and you will have to come too. I have sent whatremains of Louis to Rowland Ward to be stuffed; that will be my Eastergift to you instead of the buckles. For Heaven's sake, Lena, weep, ifyou really feel it so much; anything would be better than standing therestaring as if you thought I had lost my reason."
Lena Strudwarden did not weep, but her attempt at laughing was anunmistakable failure.
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