THE DEFINITE OBJECT

CHAPTER

I Which Describes, among Other Things, a Pair of Whiskers
II Of a Mournful Millionaire Who Lacked an Object
III How Geoffrey Ravenslee Went Seeking an Object
IV Telling How He Came to Hell's Kitchen at Peep o' Day
V How Mrs. Trapes Acquired a New Lodger, Despite her Elbows
VI How Spike Initiated Mr. Ravenslee into the Gentle Art of Shopping
VII Concerning Ankles, Stairs, and Neighbourliness
VIII Of Candies and Confidences
IX Which Recounts the End of an Episode
X Tells How Mr. Ravenslee Went into Trade
XI Antagonism is Born and War Declared
XII Containing Some Description of a Supper Party
XIII Wherein may be Found Some Particulars of the Beautiful City of
Perhaps
XIV Of a Text, a Letter, and a Song
XV Which Introduces Joe and the Old Un
XVI Of the First and Second Persons, Singular Number
XVII How Geoffrey Ravenslee Made a Deal in Real Estate
XVIII How Spike Hearkened to Poisonous Suggestion and Soapy Began to
Wonder
XIX In which the Poison Begins to Work
XX Of an Expedition by Night
XXI How M'Ginnis Threatened and--Went
XXII Tells of an Early Morning Visit and a Warning
XXIII Chiefly Concerning a Letter
XXIV How the Old Un and Certain Others had Tea
XXV How Spike Made a Choice and a Promise
XXVI Which Makes Further Mention of a Ring
XXVII Mrs. Trapes Upon the Millennium
XXVIII Which should have Related Details of a Wedding
XXIX In which Hermione Makes a Fateful Decision
XXX How Geoffrey Ravenslee Departed from Hell's Kitchen
XXXI In which Soapy Takes a Hand
XXXII Of Harmony and Discord
XXXIII Of Tragedy
XXXIV Of Remorse
XXXV How Geoffrey Ravenslee Came Out of the Dark
XXXVI Concerning a Clew
XXXVII The Woes of Mr. Brimberly
XXXVIII In which Soapy Takes upon Himself a New Role
XXXIX The Old Un Advises and Ravenslee Acts
XL Concerning a Handful of Pebbles
XLI Of a Packet of Letters
XLII Tells How Ravenslee Broke his Word and Why
XLIII How Spike Got Even
XLIV Retribution
XLV Of the Old Un and Fate
XLVI In which Geoffrey Ravenslee Obtains his Object




CHAPTER I

WHICH DESCRIBES, AMONG OTHER THINGS, A PAIR OF WHISKERS


In the writing of books, as all the world knows, two things are above
all other things essential--the one is to know exactly when and where to
leave off, and the other to be equally certain when and where to begin.

Now this book, naturally enough, begins with Mr. Brimberly's whiskers;
begins at that moment when he coughed and pulled down his waistcoat for
the first time. And yet (since action is as necessary to the success of
a book as to life itself) it should perhaps begin more properly at the
psychological moment when Mr. Brimberly coughed and pulled down the
garment aforesaid for the third time, since it is then that the real
action of this story commences.

Be that as it may, it is beyond all question that nowhere in this wide
world could there possibly be found just such another pair of whiskers
as those which adorned the plump cheeks of Mr. Brimberly; without them
he might have been only an ordinary man, but, possessing them, he was
the very incarnation of all that a butler could possibly be.

And what whiskers these were! So soft, so fleecy, so purely white, that
at times they almost seemed like the wings of cherubim, striving to soar
away and bear Mr. Brimberly into a higher and purer sphere. Again, what
Protean whiskers were these, whose fleecy pomposity could overawe the
most superior young footmen and reduce page-boys, tradesmen, and the
lower orders generally, to a state of perspiring humility; to his
equals how calmly aloof, how blandly dignified; and to those a misguided
fate had set above him, how demurely deferential, how obligingly
obsequious! Indeed, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers were all things to all men,
and therein lay their potency.

Mr. Brimberly then, pompous, affable, and most sedate, having motioned
his visitor into his master's favourite chair, set down the tray of
decanters and glasses upon the piano, coughed, and pulled down his
waistcoat; and Mr. Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous
dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made
him the personality he was.

"And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he
blandly enquired.

"I've been with his lordship six months, now," nodded Mr. Stevens.

"Ah!" said Mr. Brimberly, opening a certain carved cabinet and reaching
thence a box of his master's choicest Havanas, "six months, indeed!