behind the blood-red curtains, contrived to give them the dilapidated
appearance without which there is no real comfort. In short, the boudoir
soon assumed such a homely aspect that Scrymgeour on his return did not
recognize it. When he realized where he was he lighted up at once.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XI.

HIS WIFE'S CIGARS.

[Illustration]

Though Pettigrew, who is a much more successful journalist than Jimmy,
says pointedly of his wife that she encourages his smoking instead of
putting an end to it, I happen to know that he has cupboard skeletons.
Pettigrew has been married for years, and frequently boasted of his
wife's interest in smoking, until one night an accident revealed the
true state of matters to me. Late in the night, when traffic is hushed
and the river has at last a chance of making itself heard, Pettigrew's
window opens cautiously, and he casts something wrapped in newspaper
into the night. The window is then softly closed, and all is again
quiet. At other times Pettigrew steals along the curb-stone, dropping his
skeletons one by one. Nevertheless, his cupboard beneath the bookcase is
so crammed that he dreams the lock has given way. The key is always in
his pocket, yet when his children approach the cupboard he orders them
away, so fearful is he of something happening. When his wife has retired
he sometimes unlocks the cupboard with nervous hand, when the door
bursts gladly open, and the things roll on to the carpet. They are the
cigars his wife gives him as birthday presents, on the anniversary of
his marriage, and at other times, and such a model wife is she that he
would do anything for her except smoke them. They are Celebros, Regalia
Rothschilds, twelve and six the hundred. I discovered Pettigrew's secret
one night, when, as I was passing his house, a packet of Celebros
alighted on my head. I demanded an explanation, and I got it on the
promise that I would not mention the matter to the other Arcadians.

[Illustration]

"Several years having elapsed," said Pettigrew, "since I pretended to
smoke and enjoy my first Celebro, I could not now undeceive my wife--it
would be such a blow to her. At the time it could have been done easily.
She began by making trial of a few. There were seven of them in an
envelope; and I knew at once that she had got them for a shilling. She
had heard me saying that eightpence is a sad price to pay for a cigar--I
prefer them at tenpence--and a few days