The Doctor’s Dilemma

to go; but at all events it will be easy to find a worse man. Sir Patrick How do you know? Ridgeon Come now, Sir Paddy, no growling. Have something more to drink. Sir Patrick No, thank you. Walpole Do you see anything wrong with Dubedat, B.B.? B.B. Oh, a charming young fellow. Besides, after all, what could be wrong with him? Look at him. What could be wrong with him? Sir Patrick There are two things that can be wrong with any man. One of them is a cheque. The other is a woman. Until you know that a man’s sound on these two points, you know nothing about him. B.B. Ah, cynic, cynic! Walpole He’s all right as to the cheque, for a while at all events. He talked to me quite frankly before dinner as to the pressure of money difficulties on an artist. He says he has no vices and is very economical, but that there’s one extravagance he can’t afford and yet can’t resist; and that is dressing his wife prettily. So I said, bang plump out, “Let me lend you twenty pounds, and pay me when your ship comes home.” He was really very nice about it. He took it like a man; and it was a pleasure to see how happy it made him, poor chap. B.B. Who has listened to Walpole with growing perturbation. But⁠—but⁠—but⁠—when was this, may I ask? Walpole When I joined you that time down by the river. B.B. But, my dear Walpole, he had just borrowed ten pounds from me. Walpole What! Sir Patrick Grunts. ! B.B. Indulgently. Well, well, it was really hardly borrowing; for he said heaven only knew when he could pay me. I couldn’t refuse. It appears that Mrs. Dubedat has taken a sort of fancy to me⁠— Walpole Quickly. No: it was to me. B.B. Certainly not. Your name was never mentioned between us. He is so wrapped up in his work that he has to leave her a good deal alone; and the poor innocent young fellow⁠—he has of course no idea of my position or how busy I am⁠—actually wanted me to call occasionally and talk to her. Walpole Exactly what he said to me! B.B. Pooh! Pooh pooh! Really, I must say. Much disturbed, he rises and goes up to the balustrade, contemplating the landscape vexedly. Walpole Look here, Ridgeon! this is beginning to look serious. Blenkinsop, very anxious and wretched, but trying to look unconcerned, comes back. Ridgeon Well, did you catch him? Blenkinsop No. Excuse my running away like that. He sits down at the foot of the table, next Bloomfeld Bonington’s chair. Walpole Anything the matter? Blenkinsop Oh no. A trifle⁠—something ridiculous. It can’t be helped. Never mind. Ridgeon Was it anything about Dubedat? Blenkinsop Almost breaking down. I ought to keep it to myself, I know. I can’t tell you, Ridgeon, how ashamed I am of dragging my miserable poverty to your dinner after all your kindness. It’s not that you won’t ask me again; but it’s so humiliating. And I did so look forward to one evening in my dress clothes (They’re still presentable, you see) with all my troubles left behind, just like old times. Ridgeon But what has happened? Blenkinsop Oh, nothing. It’s too ridiculous. I had just scraped up four shillings for this little outing; and it cost me one-and-fourpence to get here. Well, Dubedat asked me to lend him half-a-crown to tip the chambermaid of the room his wife left her wraps in, and for the cloakroom. He said he only wanted it for five minutes, as she had his purse. So of course I lent it to him. And he’s forgotten to pay me. I’ve just tuppence to get back with. Ridgeon Oh, never mind that⁠— Blenkinsop Stopping him resolutely. No: I know what you’re going to say; but I won’t take it. I’ve never borrowed a penny; and I never will. I’ve nothing left but my friends; and I won’t sell them. If none of you were to be able to meet me without being afraid that my civility was leading up to the loan of five shillings, there would be an end of everything for me. I’ll take your old clothes, Colly, sooner than disgrace you by talking to you in the street in my own; but I won’t borrow money. I’ll train it as far as the twopence will take me; and I’ll tramp the rest. Walpole You’ll do the whole distance in my motor. They are all greatly relieved; and Walpole hastens to get away from the painful subject by adding. Did he get anything out of you, Mr. Schutzmacher? Schutzmacher Shakes his head in a most expressive negative. Walpole You didn’t appreciate his drawing, I think. Schutzmacher Oh yes I did. I should have liked very much to have kept the sketch and got it autographed. B.B. But why didn’t you? Schutzmacher Well, the fact is, when I joined Dubedat after his conversation with Mr. Walpole, he said the Jews were the only people who knew anything about art, and that though he had to put up with your Philistine twaddle, as he called it, it was what I said about the drawings that really pleased him. He also said that his wife was greatly struck with my knowledge, and that she always admired Jews. Then he asked me to advance him fifty pounds on the security of the drawings. All exclaiming together: B.B. No, no. Positively! Seriously! Walpole What! Another fifty! Blenkinsop Think of that! Sir Patrick Grunts. ! Schutzmacher Of course I couldn’t lend money to a stranger like that. B.B. I envy you the power to say No, Mr. Schutzmacher. Of course, I knew I oughtn’t to lend money to a young fellow in that way; but I simply hadn’t the nerve to refuse. I couldn’t very well, you know, could I? Schutzmacher I don’t understand that. I felt that I couldn’t very well lend it. Walpole What did he say? Schutzmacher Well, he made a