BUYING A CARPET—­AND AFTER

Mark and Carrissima had not gone far on their way together before it became evident that they were not absolutely in harmony.  His object was primarily to purchase a carpet for his dining-room as quickly as might be; while hers was to visit as many shops as possible and, in fact, thoroughly to enjoy the afternoon.

“Where shall we go first?” he suggested outside the door of Number 13, Grandison Square.

“Let me see!” she cried.  “Tottenham Court Road will be the best.”

So Mark directed the chauffeur accordingly, and, on getting out of the taxi-cab, Carrissima ominously suggested that it should be dismissed.  During the somewhat lengthy process which now began, she was not without moments of pleasurable embarrassment.  No doubt the various frock-coated salesmen, who patiently displayed their wares, desired to do precisely the correct thing, but there appeared to exist a considerable difference of opinion concerning Carrissima’s status.

Some addressed her as “Miss,” some as “Madame,” but all agreed that she was either recently married to Mark Driver or on the point of becoming his wife.  At first he enjoyed entering the huge warehouses by her side, standing by while she (obviously taking command of the expedition) expressed her wish to “see some carpets.”  He was amused to hear her discuss the nature of carpets in general; also at her manner of resisting every effort of persuasion, and finally walking to the door.  When, however, several shops had been fruitlessly visited and enough carpets inspected to furnish a large, modern hotel, Mark began to feel weary.

“This is uncommonly hard work,” he suggested.  “I vote we have some tea as an entr’acte.”

“Oh, very well, if you’re tired already,” said Carrissima, “we will go to Prince’s.”

“Can’t we find a shop about here?” urged Mark.

“It won’t take us half-an-hour in a taxi,” she insisted, and a few minutes later they were on their way.

“After we have fortified ourselves,” said Mark, “perhaps we shall find it possible to make up our minds.”

When they reached the restaurant in Piccadilly, Carrissima admitted that she felt glad to sit down.

“Now, don’t you think,” suggested Mark, after she had drunk two cups of China tea and sampled the cakes, “we might begin serious business at the next place.”

“If you’re really sick of it,” she answered, “we may as well go back to the beginning, though I wanted to visit one or two places about here.”

“O Lord!” exclaimed Mark.

“You see,” she replied, “I really made up my mind at once.  We haven’t seen anything so good for the price as that bronze and black Childema rug at Mabred’s.”

“Then we have simply wasted the whole afternoon!”

“It isn’t very nice of you to say that,” cried Carrissima, rising from her chair, with a laugh.  They were soon on their way back to the first warehouse they had visited, and the bronze and black carpet having been after some trouble identified, Mark drew a cheque to pay the bill.