Adrian

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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His baptismal register spoke of him pessimistically as John Henry, but he hadleft that behind with the other maladies of infancy, and his friends knew himunder the front-name of Adrian. His mother lived in Bethnal Green, which was notaltogether his fault; one can discourage too much history in one's family, butone cannot always prevent geography. And, after all, the Bethnal Green habit hasthis virtue - that it is seldom transmitted to the next generation. Adrian livedin a roomlet which came under the auspicious constellation of W.How he lived was to a great extent a mystery even to himself; his struggle forexistence probably coincided in many material details with the rather dramaticaccounts he gave of it to sympathetic acquaintances. All that is definitelyknown is that he now and then emerged from the struggle to dine at the Ritz orCarlton, correctly garbed and with a correctly critical appetite. On theseoccasions he was usually the guest of Lucas Croyden, an amiable worldling, whohad three thousand a year and a taste for introducing impossible people toirreproachable cookery. Like most men who combine three thousand a year with anuncertain digestion, Lucas was a Socialist, and he argued that you cannot hopeto elevate the masses until you have brought plovers' eggs into their lives andtaught them to appreciate the difference between coupe Jacques and MacEdoine defruits. His friends pointed out that it was a doubtful kindness to initiate aboy from behind a drapery counter into the blessedness of the higher catering,to which Lucas invariably replied that all kindnesses were doubtful. Which wasperhaps true.It was after one of his Adrian evenings that Lucas met his aunt, Mrs. Mebberley,at a fashionable teashop, where the lamp of family life is still kept burningand you meet relatives who might otherwise have slipped your memory."Who was that good-looking boy who was dining with you last night?" she asked."He looked much too nice to be thrown away upon you."Susan Mebberley was a charming woman, but she was also an aunt."Who are his people?" she continued, when the protege's name (revised version)had been given her."His mother lives at Beth--"Lucas checked himself on the threshold of what was perhaps a socialindiscretion."Beth? Where is it? It sounds like Asia Minor. Is she mixed up with Consularpeople?""Oh, no. Her work lies among the poor."This was a side-slip into truth. The mother of Adrian was employed in a laundry."I see," said Mrs. Mebberley, "mission work of some sort. And meanwhile the boyhas no one to look after him. It's obviously my duty to see that he doesn't cometo harm. Bring him to call on me.""My dear Aunt Susan," expostulated Lucas, "I really know very little about him.He may not be at all nice, you know, on further acquaintance.""He has delightful hair and a weak mouth. I shall take him with me to Homburg orCairo.""It's the maddest thing I ever heard of," said Lucas angrily."Well, there is a strong strain of madness in our family. If you haven't noticedit yourself all your friends must have.""One is so dreadfully under everybody's eyes at Homburg. At least you might givehim a preliminary trial at Etretat.""And be surrounded by Americans trying to talk French? No, thank you. I loveAmericans, but not when they try to talk French. What a blessing it is that theynever try to talk English. Tomorrow at five you can bring your young friend tocall on me."And Lucas, realizing that Susan Mebberley was a woman as well as an aunt, sawthat she would have to be allowed to have her own way.Adrian was duly carried abroad under the Mebberley wing; but as a reluctantconcession to sanity Homburg and other inconveniently fashionable resorts weregiven a wide berth, and the Mebberley establishment planted itself down in thebest hotel at Dohledorf, an Alpine townlet somewhere at the back of theEngadine. It was the usual kind of resort, with the usual type of visitors, thatone finds over the greater part of Switzerland during the summer season, but toAdrian it was all unusual. The mountain air, the certainty of regular andabundant meals, and in particular the social atmosphere, affected him much asthe indiscriminating fervour of a forcing-house might affect a weed that hadstrayed within its limits. He had been brought up in a world where breakageswere regarded as crimes and expiated as such; it was something new andaltogether exhilarating to find that you were considered rather amusing if yousmashed things in the right manner and at the recognized hours. Susan Mebberleyhad expressed the intention of showing Adrian a bit of the world; the particularbit of the world represented by Dohledorf began to be shown a good deal ofAdrian.Lucas got occasional glimpses of the Alpine sojourn, not from his aunt orAdrian, but from the industrious pen of Clovis, who was also moving as asatellite in the Mebberley constellation."The entertainment which Susan got up last night ended in disaster. I thought itwould. The Grobmayer child, a particularly loathsome five-year-old, had appearedas 'Bubbles' during the early part of the evening, and been put to bed duringthe interval. Adrian watched his opportunity and kidnapped it when the nurse wasdownstairs, and introduced it during the second half of the entertainment,thinly disguised as a performing pig. It certainly looked very like a pig, andgrunted and slobbered just like the real article; no one knew exactly what itwas, but every one said it was awfully clever, especially the Grobmayers. At thethird curtain Adrian pinched it too hard, and it yelled 'Marmar'! I am supposedto be good at descriptions, but don't ask me to describe the sayings and doingsof the Grobmayers at that moment; it was like one of the angrier Psalms set toStrauss's music. We have moved to an hotel higher up the valley."Clovis's next letter arrived five days later, and was written from the HotelSteinbock."We left the Hotel Victoria this morning. It was fairly comfortable and quiet -at least there was an air of repose about it when we arrived. Before we had beenin residence twenty-four hours most of the repose had vanished 'like a dutifulbream,' as Adrian expressed it. However, nothing unduly outrageous happened tilllast night, when Adrian had a fit of insomnia and amused himself by unscrewingand transposing all the bedroom numbers on his floor. He transferred thebathroom label to the adjoining bedroom door, which happened to be that of FrauHofrath Schilling, and this morning from seven o'clock onwards the old lady hada stream of involuntary visitors; she was too horrified and scandalized it seemsto get up and lock her door. The would-be bathers flew back in confusion totheir rooms, and, of course, the change of numbers led them astray again, andthe corridor gradually filled with panic-stricken, scantily robed humans,dashing wildly about like rabbits in a ferret-infested warren. It took nearly anhour before the guests were all sorted into their respective rooms, and the FrauHofrath's condition was still causing some anxiety when we left. Susan isbeginning to look a little worried. She can't very well turn the boy adrift, ashe hasn't got any money, and she can't send him to his people as she doesn'tknow where they are. Adrian says his mother moves about a good deal and he'slost her address. Probably, if the truth were known, he's had a row at home. Somany boys nowadays seem to think that quarrelling with one's family is arecognized occupation."Lucas's next communication from the travellers took the form of a telegram fromMrs. Mebberley herself. It was sent "reply prepaid," and consisted of a singlesentence: "In Heaven's name, where is Beth?"

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Adrian was featured as TheShort Story of the Day on Mon, Mar 24, 2014

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