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diff --git a/16217-h/16217-h.htm b/16217-h/16217-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd1ffee --- /dev/null +++ b/16217-h/16217-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19223 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Prince Fortunatus, by William Black. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { text-indent: 2em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + .negind {text-indent: -2em;} + .noind {text-indent: 0em;} + .maxind {text-indent: 6em;} + .right {text-align: right;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; + clear: both;} + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .tablenum {float: right; + text-align: right; + padding-left: 3em;} + + .charname {position: absolute; + right: 70%} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .small {font-size: 0.8em;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + a img { border: 0; } + + .footnote {margin-left: 2em; + margin-right: 2em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 2px; + font-size: smaller; + text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:28%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem .verse {margin: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em;} + .versei1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em;} + .versei2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .versei4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .verseineg {display: block; margin-left: -0.3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Prince Fortunatus, by William Black + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Prince Fortunatus + +Author: William Black + +Release Date: July 6, 2005 [EBook #16217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRINCE FORTUNATUS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Pilar Somoza and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" +alt="She dragged off the engagement ring, and dashed it on the floor in front of his feet." /></div> +<h5><b>"<i>She dragged off the engagement ring, and dashed it on +the floor in front of his feet.</i>" (<i>See p.</i> 335.)</b></h5> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /><!-- Page 1 --><p><span class="pagenum">{1}</span></p> + +<p><br/></p> +<h1>PRINCE FORTUNATUS</h1> + +<h3>A Novel</h3> +<p><br/></p> +<p><br/></p> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>WILLIAM BLACK</h2> + +<h5>AUTHOR OF "A PRINCESS OF THULE" "MACLEOD OF DARE"<br/> +"IN FAR LOCHABER" ETC.</h5> +<p><br/></p> +<h3>ILLUSTRATED</h3> +<p><br/></p> +<h4>NEW YORK<br/> +HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE<br/> +1905</h4> + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /><!-- Page 2 --><p><span class="pagenum">{2}</span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<div class="center"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> + +<tr><td align='left'><span class="sc">chapter</span></td> +<td></td><td align='right'><span class="sc">page</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#I"><b>I.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Rehearsal</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#I"><b>5</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#II"><b>II.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">The Great God Pan</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#II"><b>21</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#III"><b>III.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Nina</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#III"><b>37</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#IV"><b>IV.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Country and Town</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#IV"><b>55</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#V"><b>V.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Wars and Rumors</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#V"><b>73</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VI"><b>VI.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Departure</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#VI"><b>90</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VII"><b>VII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">In Strathaivron</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#VII"><b>106</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VIII"><b>VIII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">The Twelfth</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#VIII"><b>123</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#IX"><b>IX.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Venator Immemor</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#IX"><b>142</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#X"><b>X.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Aivron and Geinig</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#X"><b>159</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XI"><b>XI.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">The Phantom Stag</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XI"><b>174</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XII"><b>XII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Globe of Gold-fish</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XII"><b>192</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIII"><b>XIII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A New Experience</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XIII"><b>207</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIV"><b>XIV.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Magnanimous Rival</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XIV"><b>225</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XV"><b>XV.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">"Let the Strucken Deer go Weep"</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XV"><b>243</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVI"><b>XVI.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">An Awakening</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XVI"><b>259</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVII"><b>XVII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Crisis</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XVII"><b>276</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVIII"><b>XVIII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">An Invocation</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XVIII"><b>294</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIX"><b>XIX.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Entrapped</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XIX"><b>310</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XX"><b>XX.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">In Direr Straits</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XX"><b>326</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXI"><b>XXI.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">In a Den of Lions, and Thereafter</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXI"><b>342</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXII"><b>XXII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Prius Dementat</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXII"><b>359</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXIII"><b>XXIII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Memorable Day</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXIII"><b>376</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXIV"><b>XXIV.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Friends in Need</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXIV"><b>393</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXV"><b>XXV.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Changes</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXV"><b>410</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXVI"><b>XXVI.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">Towards the Dawn</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXVI"><b>425</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXVII"><b>XXVII.</b></a></td> +<td align='left'><span class="sc">A Reunion</span></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#XXVII"><b>430</b></a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /><!-- Page 3 --><p><span class="pagenum">{3}</span></p> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + +<!-- Page 4 --><p><span class="pagenum">{4}</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece.</i></a></span> +<p class="negind">"SHE DRAGGED OFF THE ENGAGEMENT-RING, AND DASHED +IT ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF HIS FEET"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf18"><i>Facing p.</i> 18</a></span> +<p class="negind">"'YOU SAY AT YOUR FEET THAT I WEPT IN DESPAIR'"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf34">" 34</a></span> +<p class="negind">"WHEN THEY HAD FINISHED SUPPER, LIONEL MOORE +LIT A CIGARETTE, AND HIS FRIEND A BRIAR-ROOT PIPE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf64">" 64</a></span> +<p class="negind">"THEY PASSED IN THROUGH THE GATE, AND FOUND THE +DOOR LEFT OPEN FOR THEM"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf116">" 116</a></span> +<p class="negind">"AND YET HERE WAS THIS GIRL WATCHING COOLLY +AND CRITICALLY THE MOTION OF THE LINE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf170">" 170</a></span> +<p class="negind">"CAUTIOUSLY OLD ROBERT CREPT DOWN. WHEN HE +WAS CLOSE TO THE WATER, HE BARED HIS RIGHT +ARM AND GRASPED THE GAFF BY THE HANDLE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf198">" 198</a></span> +<p class="negind">"ROBERT GOT THE SMALL PARCELS AND THE DRINKING-CUPS +OUT OF THE BAG, AND ARRANGED THEM ON THE WARM TURF"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf252">" 252</a></span> +<p class="negind">"AND NINA, HANGING SOME WAY BACK, COULD SEE +THEM BEING PRESENTED TO MISS BURGOYNE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf264">" 264</a></span> +<p class="negind">"'WHY, YOU SEEM TO KNOW EVERYBODY, MR. MOORE!' +SHE SAID TO HIM, WITH A SMILE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf310">" 310</a></span> +<p class="negind">"HE THREW HIS ARMS ON THE TABLE BEFORE HIM, +AND HID HIS FACE"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf322">" 322</a></span> +<p class="negind">"AND AGAIN SHE FILLED UP HIS GLASS, WHICH HE HAD +NOT EMPTIED"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf346">" 346</a></span> +<p class="negind">"THERE WAS A SLIGHT TOUCH OF COLOR VISIBLE ON +THE GRACIOUS FOREHEAD WHEN SHE OFFERED HIM HER HAND"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf394">" 394</a></span> +<p class="negind">"HE UTTERED A LOUD SHRIEK, AND STRUGGLED +WILDLY TO RAISE HIMSELF"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf400">" 400</a></span> +<p class="negind">"SHE THREW HERSELF ON HER KNEES BY THE BEDSIDE +AND SEIZED HIS HAND"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf420">" 420</a></span> +<p class="negind">"MAURICE WALKED BACK UNTIL HE FOUND A GATE, +ENTERED, AND WENT FORWARD AND OVERTOOK HER"</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><a href="#illusf430">" 430</a></span> +<p class="negind">"I HAVE AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT LETTER TO SEND OFF"</p> + +</div> + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /><!-- Page 5 --><p><span class="pagenum">{5}</span></p> +<h2>PRINCE FORTUNATUS.</h2> +<p><br/></p> + + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h4>A REHEARSAL.</h4> + + +<p>When the curtain fell on the last act of "The Squire's Daughter," the +comedy-opera that had taken all musical London by storm, a tall and +elegant young English matron and her still taller brother rose from +their places in the private box they had been occupying, and made ready +to depart; and he had just assisted her to put on her long-skirted coat +of rose-red plush when an attendant made his appearance.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore's compliments, your ladyship, and will you please to step +this way?"</p> + +<p>The box was close to the stage. Lady Adela Cunyngham and her brother, +Lord Rockminster, followed their guide through a narrow little door, and +almost at once found themselves in the wings, amid the usual motley +crowd of gas-men, scene-shifters, dressers, and the like. But the +company were still fronting the footlights; for there had been a general +recall, and the curtain had gone up again; and probably, during this +brief second of scrutiny, it may have seemed odd to these two strangers +to find themselves looking, not at rows of smiling faces on the stage, +but at the backs of the heads of the performers. However, the curtain +once more came down; the great wedding-party in the squire's hall grew +suddenly quite business-like and went their several ways as if they had +no longer any concern with one another; and then it was that the +squire's daughter herself—a piquant little person she was, in a +magnificent costume of richly flowered white satin, and with a +portentous head-gear of powdered hair and brilliants and strings of +pearls—was brought forward by a handsome young gentleman who wore a +tied wig, <!-- Page 6 --><span class="pagenum">{6}</span>a laced coat and ruffles, satin knee-breeches, shining silken +stockings, and silver-buckled shoes.</p> + +<p>"Lady Adela," said he, "let me introduce you to Miss Burgoyne. Miss +Burgoyne has been kind enough to say she will take you into her room for +a little while, until I get off my war-paint. I sha'n't keep you more +than a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you," said the tall young matron in the crimson coat +to this gorgeous little white bride, whose lips were brilliant with +cherry-paste, and whose bright and frank eyes were surrounded by such a +mighty mass of make-up.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," she answered, pleasantly enough, and therewith she led the +way down some steps into a long, white-tiled corridor, from which +branched the various dressing-rooms. "I'm afraid I can't give you any +tea now; but there's some lemonade, of my own making—it has become very +popular in the theatre—you would hardly believe the number of callers I +have of an evening."</p> + +<p>By this time Lionel Moore, who was responsible for these strangers being +in the theatre, had gone quickly off to his own dressing-room to change +his attire, so that when the two ladies reached a certain half-open door +where the prima-donna's maid was waiting for her, Lord Rockminster +naturally hung back and would have remained without. Miss Burgoyne +instantly turned to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you may come in too!" she said, with great complaisance.</p> + +<p>Somewhat timorously he followed these two into a prettily furnished +little sitting-room, where he was bidden to take a seat and regale +himself with lemonade, if he was so minded; and then Miss Burgoyne drew +aside the curtain of an inner apartment, and said to her other guest:</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> may come in here, if you like. Mr. Moore said you wished to +know about stage make-up and that kind of thing—I will show you all the +dreadful secrets—Jane!" Thereupon these three disappeared behind the +curtain, and Lord Rockminster was left alone.</p> + +<p>But Lord Rockminster liked being left alone. He was a great thinker, who +rarely revealed his thoughts, but who was quite happy in possessing +them. He could sit for an hour at a club-window, calmly gazing out into +the street, and be perfectly content. <!-- Page 7 --><span class="pagenum">{7}</span>It is true that the pale +tobacco-tinge that overspread the young man's fair complexion seemed to +speak of an out-of-door life; but he had long ago emancipated himself +from the tyranny of field-sports. That thraldom had begun early with +him, as with most of his class. He had hardly been out of his Eton +jacket when gillies and water-bailiffs got hold of him, and made him +thrash salmon-pools with a seventeen-foot rod until his back was +breaking; and then keepers and foresters had taken possession of him, +and compelled him to crawl for miles up wet gullies and across +peat-hags, and then put a rifle in his hand, expecting him to hit a +bewildering object on the other side of a corrie when, as a matter of +fact, his heart was like to burst with excitement and fear. But the +young man had some strength of character. He rebelled; he refused to be +driven like a slave any longer; he struck for freedom and won it. There +was still much travelling to be encountered; but when he had got that +over, when he had seen everything and done everything, and there was +nothing more to do or to see, then he became master of himself and +conducted himself accordingly. Contemplation, accompanied by a +cigarette, was now his chief good. What his meditations were no one +knew, but they sufficed unto himself. He had attained Nirvana. He lived +in a region of perpetual thought.</p> + +<p>But there was one active quality that Lord Rockminster certainly did +possess: he was a most devoted brother, as all the town knew. He was +never tired of going about with his three beautiful sisters, or with any +one of them; he would fetch and carry for them with the most amiable +assiduity; "Rock" they called him, as if he were a retriever. Then the +fact that they followed very different pursuits made all the greater +demand on his consideration. His youngest sister, Lady Rosamund Bourne, +painted indefatigably in both water and oils, and had more than once +exhibited in Suffolk Street; Lady Sybil devoted herself to music, and +was a well-known figure at charitable concerts; while the eldest sister, +Lady Adela, considered literature and the drama as more particularly +under her protection, nor had she ceased to interest herself in these +graceful arts when she married Sir Hugh Cunyngham, of the Braes, that +famous breeder of polled cattle. The natural consequence of all this was +that Lord Rockminster found himself called to a never-ending series of +concerts, <!-- Page 8 --><span class="pagenum">{8}</span>theatres, private views, and the like, and always with one or +other of his beautiful, tall sisters as his companion; while on a +certain occasion (for it was whispered that Lady Adela Cunyngham was +engaged in the composition of a novel, and her brother was the soul of +good-nature) he had even gone the length of asking a publisher to dine +at his club. And here he was seated in an actress's room, alone, while +his sister was inspecting powder-puffs, washes, patches, and paste +jewelry; and not only that, but they were about to take an actor home to +supper with them. What he thought about it all he never said. He sat and +stroked his small yellow moustache; his eyes was absent; and on his +handsome, almost Greek, features there dwelt a perfect and continuous +calm.</p> + +<p>Presently the door was opened, and the smart-looking young baritone who +had stolen away the hearts of half the women in London made his +appearance. He was a young fellow of about eight-and-twenty, +pleasant-featured, his complexion almost colorless, his eyes gray with +dark lashes, his eyebrows also dark. In figure he was slight and wiry +rather than muscular; but where he gave evidence of strength was in his +magnificent throat and in the set of his head and shoulders. It may be +added that he possessed, what few stage-singers appear to possess, a +remarkably well-formed leg—a firm-knit calf tapering to a small ankle +and a shapely foot; but, as he had now doffed his professional silken +stockings and silver-buckled shoes for ordinary evening wear, his merits +in this respect were mostly concealed.</p> + +<p>No sooner had he begun to talk to Lord Rockminster than the sound of his +voice summoned forth from the inner apartment Lady Adela, who, with many +expressions of thanks, bade good-night to the prima-donna, and put +herself under charge of the young baritone.</p> + +<p>"My sisters are at the Mellords' to-night," said she, as she accompanied +him along the corridor and up the steps and through the now almost +deserted wings. "They were dining there, and we left them as we came to +the theatre, and promised to pick them up on our way home. There will be +a bit of a crush, I suppose; you won't mind coming in for a few minutes, +will you, Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know Mrs. Mellord," said he, with becoming modesty.</p> + +<p>"But everybody knows you—that is the great point," said <!-- Page 9 --><span class="pagenum">{9}</span>this tall9 +young Englishwoman, who looked very gracious and charming, and who, when +she turned to talk to her companion, had a quick, responsive smile ever +ready in her clear, intelligent, gray-blue eyes. "Oh, yes, you must +come. It is one of the prettiest houses in London; and Mrs. Mellord is +one of the nicest women. We will get Sybil and Rose away as soon as we +can; and I shouldn't at all wonder if we found Georgie Lestrange and her +brother there too. Oh, almost certain, I should say. Then we could carry +them off to supper, and after that Pastora might try over her duet with +Damon. But as regards the Mellords, Mr. Moore," said she, with a +pleasant smile, as he handed her into her brougham, which had been +brought round to the stage-door, "I shall consider you to be under my +protection, and I will take care no one shall ask you to sing."</p> + +<p>"But you know, Lady Adela, I am always delighted to sing for any friend +of yours," said he, promptly enough; and then, when he and Lord +Rockminster had entered the carriage, and the footman had shut the door +and got on the box, away they drove through the busy midnight world of +London.</p> + +<p>It did not take them long to get from the New Theatre to the house of +the famous Academician; and here, late as it was, they found plenty of +people still arriving, a small crowd of onlookers scanning the various +groups as they crossed the pavement. On this hot night in May, it seemed +pleasantly cool to get into the great hall of white and black marble, +where the miniature lake, on which floated an alabaster swan, was all +banked round with flowers; and when Lady Adela had dispossessed herself +of her long plush coat, it was evident she had dressed for the reception +before going to the theatre, for now she appeared in a costume of +silver-gray satin with a very considerable train, while there were +diamond stars in her light brown hair, and at her bosom a bunch of deep +crimson roses. At the head of the stairs they encountered Mrs. Mellord, +who received the famous young baritone with the most marked kindness. +Indeed, he seemed to be known to a considerable number of the people who +were assembled in these spacious rooms of white and gold; while those +who were not personally acquainted with him easily recognized him, for +were not his photographs in every stationer's window in London? The +Ladies Sybil and Rosamund Bourne they found in the studio, talking to +the great Academician <!-- Page 10 --><span class="pagenum">{10}</span>himself. These two young ladies were even taller, +as they likewise were fairer in complexion, than their married sister; +moreover, they were much more dignified in demeanor than she was, though +that may have merely arisen from maidenly reserve. But when Mr. Mellord +exhibited at the Royal Academy his much-talked-of picture of the three +sisters, most people seemed to think that though the two younger ladies +might have carried off the palm for their handsome, pale, regularly cut +features and their calm, observant eyes, there was something in the +bright, vivacious look of the eldest that outweighed these advantages; +while in society, and especially as a hostess in her own house, the +charm of Lady Adela's manner, and her quick, sympathetic, engaging ways +made her a universal favorite. And one was tempted, in amazement, to ask +how it came about that a woman so alert and intelligent, so conversant +with the world, so ready to note the ridiculous side of things, could +not understand what a poor and lamentable figure she made as an amateur +authoress? But had the Lady Sybil any less confidence in her musical +attainments, when she would undertake to play a duet with one of the +most distinguished of professional musicians, she on the violin, he at +the piano? And here, at this very moment, was Lady Rosamund talking to +by far and away the greatest painter in England, and there was a picture +before them on an easel, and she was saying to him, with perfect +coolness,</p> + +<p>"Why, I see you use cadmium yellow, Mr. Mellord! I <i>never</i> do."</p> + +<p>Somehow an impression got abroad through these brilliant rooms that Mr. +Moore was going to sing; and at length Mrs. Mellord came to the young +man and frankly preferred her request.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said he, most good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"The serenade?" she ventured to hint.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not the serenade!" said he, with a laugh. "Every butcher's boy in +the streets whistles it."</p> + +<p>"All England is singing it—and a good thing, too," she made answer; and +then she said, with some emphasis: "I am sure no one rejoices more than +myself at the great popularity of 'The Squire's Daughter.' I am very +glad to see that a comedy-opera may be based on the best traditions of +English music; and I hope we shall have a great deal less of the +Offenbach tinkle-tankle."<!-- Page 11 --><span class="pagenum">{11}</span></p> + +<p>"The serenade, if you like, then," said he, with, careless good-humor; +what did it matter to him?</p> + +<p>"And whom shall I get to play an accompaniment for you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't trouble; I can do that for myself—"</p> + +<p>"But you must make one young lady supremely happy," said she, with +insidious flattery.</p> + +<p>He glanced round the studio.</p> + +<p>"I see Miss Lestrange over there—she has played it for me +before—without the music, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go and fetch her," said the indefatigable hostess; and now +everybody seemed to know that Mr. Lionel Moore was about to sing "The +Starry Night."</p> + +<p>Miss Georgie Lestrange was no sooner appealed to than she came through +the crowd, smiling and laughing. She was an exceedingly pretty lass, +with fresh-complexioned cheeks, a pert and attractive nose, a winsome +mouth, and merry blue eyes that were hardly made grave by the +<i>pince-nez</i> that she habitually wore. She was very prettily dressed, +too—in blue-and-silver brocade, with a high Medici collar of silver +lace, puffed sleeves with twisted cords of silver, and silver fillets +binding the abundant masses of her ruddy-golden hair. She sat down at +the piano, and the first notes of the accompaniment deepened the silence +that now prevailed, not only in this big studio, but throughout the +communicating rooms.</p> + +<p>Probably there was not a human being in the place who had not heard this +serenade sung a dozen times over, for it was the most popular air of the +most popular piece then being played in London; but there was some kind +of novelty in listening to the same notes that had thrilled through the +theatre (rather, that had sent their passionate appeal up to a certain +mysterious balcony, in the dim moonlight of the stage) now pulsating +through the hushed silence of these modern rooms. Lionel Moore was not a +baritone of altogether rare and exceptional gifts, otherwise he might +hardly have been content with even the popularity and the substantial +rewards of comic opera; but he had a very excellent voice for all that, +of high range, and with a resonant and finely sympathetic <i>timbre</i> +that seemed easily to find its way (according to all accounts) to the +feminine heart. And the music of this serenade was really admirable, of +subtle and delicate quality, and yet full of the simplest melody, and +perhaps none the <!-- Page 12 --><span class="pagenum">{12}</span>less to be appreciated that it seemed to suggest a +careful study of the best English composers. The words were conventional +enough, of course; but then the whole story of "The Squire's Daughter" +was as artificial as the wigs and powder and patches of the performers; +and even now, when Harry Thornhill, bereft of all his gay silk and lace +and ruffles, and become plain Mr. Lionel Moore, in ordinary evening +dress, sang to Miss Georgie Lestrange's accompaniment, the crowd did not +think of the words—they were entranced by the music. "The starry +night"—this is how Harry Thornhill, in the opera, addresses Grace +Mainwaring, he standing in the moonlit garden and looking up to her +window—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"The starry night brings me no rest;</div> +<div class="verse">My ardent love now stands confessed;</div> +<div class="verse">Appear, my sweet, and shame the skies,</div> +<div class="verse">That have no splendor,</div> +<div class="verse">That have no splendor like thine eyes!"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The serenade was followed by a general murmur of approbation, rather +than by any loud applause; but the pretty Mrs. Mellord came up to the +singer and was most profuse of thanks. Prudently, however, he moved away +from the piano, being accompanied by Miss Georgie Lestrange, who seemed +rather pleased with the prominence this position gave her; and very soon +a surreptitious message reached them both that they were wanted below. +When they went down into the hall they found that Lady Adela had got her +party collected, including Miss Lestrange's brother Percy; thereupon the +four ladies got into the brougham and drove off, while the three +gentlemen proposed to follow on foot, and have a cigarette the while. It +was a pleasantly warm night, and they had no farther to go than Sir Hugh +Cunyngham's house, which is one of the large garden-surrounded mansions +on the summit of Campden Hill.</p> + +<p>When at length they arrived there and had entered by the wooden gate, +the semicircular carriage-drive, lit by two solitary lamps, and the +front of the house itself, half-hidden among the black trees, seemed +somewhat sombre and repellent at this silent hour of the morning; but +they found a more cheerful radiance streaming out from the hall-door, +which had been left open for them; and when they went into the large +dining-room, where the ladies had already assembled, there was no lack +of<!-- Page 13 --><span class="pagenum">{13}</span> either light or color there, for all the candles were ablaze, and +the long table was brilliant with silver and Venetian glass and flowers. +And, indeed, this proved to be a very merry and talkative supper-party; +for, as soon as supper was served, the servants were sent off to bed; +Lord Rockminster constituted himself butler, and Percy Lestrange handed +round the pheasants' eggs and asparagus and such things; so that there +was no alien ear in the room. Lionel Moore, being less familiar with the +house, was exempted from these duties; in truth, it was rather the +women-folk who waited upon him—and petted him as he was used to be +petted, wherever that fortunate young man happened to go.</p> + +<p>However, it was not supper that was chiefly occupying the attention of +this band of eager chatterers (from whom the silent Lord Rockminster, +walking gravely round the table with a large jug of champagne-cup in his +hand, must honorably be distinguished), it was the contemplated +production of a little musical entertainment called "The Chaplet," by +Dr. Boyce, which they were about to attempt, out-of-doors, on some +afternoon still to be fixed, and before a select concourse of friends. +And the most vivacious of the talkers was the red-headed and merry-eyed +young maiden in blue silver and brocade, who seemed incapable of keeping +her rosebud of a mouth closed for more than a minute at a time.</p> + +<p>"I do think it's awfully hard on me," she was protesting. "Look how I'm +handicapped! Everybody knows that Pastora was played by Kitty Olive; and +everybody will say, 'That Lestrange girl has cheek, hasn't she? thinks +she can play Kitty Olive's parts!' And you know Pastora is always +calling attention to her fascinating appearance."</p> + +<p>"Georgie, you're fishing for compliments!" the young matron said, +severely.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not, Adela," said Miss Lestrange, who, indeed, looked as +charming as any Kitty Olive could ever have done. "Then there's another +thing: fancy my having to sing a duet with Mr. Moore! It's all very well +for you to sing a song off your own bat—"</p> + +<p>"That <i>would</i> be difficult, Georgie," Lady Adela observed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know what I mean. But when you come to sing in conjunction with +an artist like Mr. Moore, what then? They will say<!-- Page 14 --><span class="pagenum">{14}</span> it is mere +presumption, when my little squeak of a voice gets drowned altogether."</p> + +<p>"If you give any weight to a professional opinion, Miss Lestrange," the +young baritone said, "I can assure you you sing your part in that +duet—or in anything else I've heard you sing—very well indeed. Very +well indeed."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now Georgie's happy," said Lady Adela, with a laugh, as the +blushing damsel cast down her eyes. "Well, I propose that we all go into +the drawing-room, and we'll hear for ourselves how Pastora and Damon +sing together. You may make as much noise as ever you like; the children +are in Hampshire; Hugh is in Scotland; the servants are out of hearing; +and our neighbors are a long way off."</p> + +<p>This suggestion, coming from the lady of the house, was of the nature of +a command, and so they leisurely trooped into the great drawing-room, +where the candles were still burning. But there was something else than +these artificial lights that attracted the sharp eyes of Miss Georgie +Lestrange the moment she entered this new apartment. There was a +curious, wan kind of color about the curtains and the French windows +that did not seem natural to the room. She walked quickly forward, drew +the lace hangings aside, and then, suddenly, she exclaimed,</p> + +<p>"Why, it's almost daylight! Look here, Adela, why shouldn't we have a +rehearsal of the whole piece, from end to end—a real rehearsal, this +time, on the lawn? and Rose can tell us all how we are to stand, and Mr. +Moore will show us what we should do besides merely speaking the lines."</p> + +<p>This bold proposal was greeted with general acclaim, and instantly there +was a bustle of preparation. Lady Sybil began to tune her violin by the +side of the open piano; Lady Rosamund, who was at once scene-painter and +stage-manager, as it were, got out some sheets of drawing-paper, on +which she had sketched the various groups; and Lady Adela brought forth +the MS. books of the play, which had been prepared under the careful +(and necessary) supervision of Lionel Moore.</p> + +<p>"Rockminster will have to figure as the audience," his eldest sister +said, as she was looping up her long train of silver-gray satin +preparatory to going out.</p> + +<p>"That is a part <i>I</i> could play to perfection," put in Miss +Lestrange's brother.<!-- Page 15 --><span class="pagenum">{15}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no," Lady Adela remonstrated. "You may be wanted for Palæmon. You +see, this is how it stands. The young shepherd was originally played at +Drury Lane by a boy—and in Dublin by an actress; it is a boy's part, +indeed. Well, you know, we thought Cis Yorke would snap at it; and she +was eager enough at first; but"—and here Lady Adela smiled demurely—"I +think her courage gave way. The boy's dress looked charming as Rose +sketched it for her—and the long cloak made it quite proper, you +know—and very picturesque, too—but—but I think she's frightened. We +can't count on her. So we may have to call on you for Palæmon, Mr. +Lestrange."</p> + +<p>"And I have taken the liberty of cutting out the song, for it's rather +stupid," said Lionel Moore, "so you've only got a few lines to repeat."</p> + +<p>"The fewer the better," replied Mr. Percy Lestrange, who was possibly +right in considering that, with his far-from-regular features and his +red hair and moustache, his appearance as a handsome young swain should +not have too much prominence given it.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding that it had been Miss Lestrange's audacious proposal +that they should go masquerading in the open air, she was a wise young +virgin, and she took care before going out to thrust a soft silk +handkerchief into the square opening of her dress; the Ladies Sybil and +Rosamund followed her example by drawing lace scarfs round their necks +and shoulders; it was the young matron who was reprehensibly careless, +and who, when the French windows were thrown open, went forth boldly, +and without any wrap at all, into the cool air of the dawn. But for a +second, as they stood on the little stone balcony above the steps +leading down to the garden, this group of revellers were struck silent. +The world looked so strange around them. In the mysterious gray light, +that had no sort of kindly warmth in it, the grass of the lawn and the +surrounding trees seemed coldly and intensely green; and cold and +intense, with no richness of hue at all, were the colors of the flowers +in the various plots and beds. Not a bird chirped as yet. Not a leaf +stirred. But in this ghostly twilight the solitary gas lamps were +beginning to show pale; and in the southern heavens the silver sickle of +the moon, stealing over to the west, seemed to be taking the night with +it, and leaving these faintly lilac skies to welcome the uprising of the +new day.<!-- Page 16 --><span class="pagenum">{16}</span></p> + +<p>At first, indeed, there was something curiously uncanny—something +unearthly and phantasmal almost—in the spectacle of these figures, the +women in white, the men in black, moving through this wan light; and +their voices sounded strangely in the dead silence; but ere long a soft +saffron tinge began to show itself in the east; one or two scraps of +cloud in the violet skies caught a faint touch of the coming dawn; there +was a more generous tone on the masses of foliage, on the flower-beds, +and on the grass; and now the cheerful chirping of the birds had begun +among the leaves. And what more beautiful surroundings could have been +imagined for the production of any pastoral entertainment? The wide lawn +was bounded on one side by a dense thicket of elms and limes and +chestnuts, and on the other by a tall, dark hedge of holly; while here +and there was a weeping-willow, round the stem of which a circular seat +had been constructed, the pendulous branches enclosing a sort of rustic +bower. As this fantastic performance went forward, the skies overhead +slowly became more luminous; there was a sense of warmth and clear +daylight beginning to tell; the birds were singing and chattering and +calling everywhere; and the sweet, pure air of the morning, as it +stirred, and no more than stirred, the trembling leaves, brought with it +a scent of mignonette that seemed to speak of the coming of June.</p> + +<p>Laura, in the person of Lady Adela Cunyngham, had reproached the +faithless Damon (who was no other than Mr. Lionel Moore)—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Ungrateful Damon, is it come to this?</div> +<div class="verse">Are these the happy scenes of promis'd bliss?</div> +<div class="verse">Ne'er hope, vain Laura, future peace to prove;</div> +<div class="verse">Content ne'er harbors with neglected love."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="noind">—and Damon had replied (not mumbling his lines, as a privileged actor +sometimes does at rehearsal, but addressing them properly to the hapless +Laura)—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Consider, fair, the ever-restless pow'r,</div> +<div class="verse">Shifts with the breeze, and changes with the hour:</div> +<div class="verse">Above restraint, he scorns a fixt abode,</div> +<div class="verse">And on his silken plumes flies forth the rambling god."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then Lady Sybil took out her violin from its case and drew the bow +across the strings.</p> + +<p>"We'll let you off the song, if you like, Mr. Moore," Lady<!-- Page 17 --><span class="pagenum">{17}</span> Adela said +to the young baritone, but in a very half-hearted kind of way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said he, pleasantly, "perhaps this may be my only rehearsal."</p> + +<p>"The audience," observed Lord Rockminster, who, at a little distance, +was lying back in a garden-chair, smoking a cigarette—"the audience +would distinctly prefer to have the song sung."</p> + +<p>Lady Sybil again gave him the key-note from the violin; and, without +further accompaniment, he thus addressed his forsaken sweetheart:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"You say at your feet that I wept in despair,</div> +<div class="verse">And vow'd that no angel was ever so fair;</div> +<div class="verse">How could you believe all the nonsense I spoke?</div> +<div class="verse">What know we of angels? I meant it in joke,</div> +<div class="versei4">I meant it in joke;</div> +<div class="verse">What know we of angels? I meant it in joke."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When, in his rich, vibrating notes, he had sung the two verses, all the +ladies rewarded him by clapping their hands, which was an exceedingly +wrong thing to do, considering that they formed no part of the audience. +Then <i>Damon</i> says,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"To-day Demætus gives a rural treat,</div> +<div class="verse">And I once more my chosen friends must meet:</div> +<div class="verse">Farewell, sweet damsel, and remember this,</div> +<div class="verse">Dull repetition deadens all our bliss."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And Laura sadly answers,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Where baleful cypress forms a gloomy shade,</div> +<div class="verse">And yelling spectres haunt the dreary glade,</div> +<div class="verse">Unknown to all, my lonesome steps I'll bend,</div> +<div class="verse">There weep my suff'rings, and my fate attend."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Here Laura ought to sing the song "Vain is every fond endeavor;" but +Lady Adela said to the violinist,</p> + +<p>"No, never mind, Syb; no one wants to hear <i>me</i> sing, until the +necessity of the case arises. Let's get on to the feast; I think that +will be very popular; for we must have lots of shepherds and +shepherdesses; and the people will be delighted to recognize their +friends. Where's your sketch, Rose? I would have groups round each of +the willows, and occasional figures coming backwards and forwards +through those rhododendrons."</p> + +<p>"You must leave the principal performers plenty of stage,"<!-- Page 18 --><span class="pagenum">{18}</span> Lionel Moore +interposed, laughing. "You mustn't hem us in with supers, however +picturesque their dress may be."</p> + +<p>And so they went on discussing their arrangements, while the refulgent +day was everywhere declaring itself, though as yet no sound of the +far-off world could reach this isolated garden. Nor was there any direct +sunshine falling into it; but a beautiful warmth of color now shone on +the young green of the elms and chestnuts and hawthorns, and on one or +two tall-branching, trembling poplars just coming into leaf; while the +tulip-beds—the stars, the crescents, the ovals, and squares—were each +a mass of brilliant vermilion, of rose, of pale lemon, of crimson and +orange, or clearest gold. This new-found dawn seemed wholly to belong to +the birds. Perhaps it was their universal chirping and carolling that +concealed the distant echo of the highways; for surely the heavily-laden +wains were now making in for Covent Garden? At all events there was +nothing here but this continuous bird-clamor and the voices of these +modern nymphs and swains as they went this way and that over the +velvet-smooth lawn.</p> + +<p>And now the bewitching Pastora appears upon the scene (but would Mrs. +Clive have worn a gold <i>pince-nez</i> at rehearsal?) and she has just +quarrelled with her lover Palæmon—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Insulting boy! I'll tear him from my mind;</div> +<div class="verse">Ah! would my fortune could a husband find!</div> +<div class="verse">And just in time, young Damon comes this way,</div> +<div class="verse">A handsome youth he is, and rich, they say."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The butterfly-hearted Damon responds at once:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Vouchsafe, sweet maid, to hear a wretched swain,</div> +<div class="verse">Who, lost in wonder, hugs the pleasing chain:</div> +<div class="verse">For you in sighs I hail the rising day,</div> +<div class="verse">To you at eve I sing the lovesick lay;</div> +<div class="verse">Then take my love, my homage as your due—</div> +<span class="tablenum">[<i>Aside.</i></span> +<div class="verse">The Devil's in her, if all this won't do." </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>It must be confessed that the pretty and smiling and blushing Miss +Georgie Lestrange looked just a little self-conscious as she had to +listen to this extremely frank declaration; but she had the part of the +coquettish Pastora to play; and Pastora, as soon as she discovers that +Damon has no thought of marriage, naturally declines to have anything to +do with him. And here came in the duet which had first suggested this +escapade:</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf18" id="illusf18"></a> +<img src="images/illusf18.jpg" +alt="You say at your feet that I wept in despair." /></div> +<div class="small"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg"><b><i>"You say at your feet that I wept in despair,</i></b></div> +<div class="verse"><b><i>And vow'd that no angel was ever so fair;</i></b></div> +<div class="verse"><b><i>How could you believe all the nonsense I spoke?</i></b></div> +<div class="verse"><b><i>What know we of angels? I meant it in joke,</i></b></div> +<div class="versei4"><b><i>I meant it in joke;</i></b></div> +<div class="verse"><b><i>What know we of angels? I meant it in joke."</i></b></div></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<!-- Page 19 --><p><span class="pagenum">{19}</span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="charname">"DAMON.</span> +<div class="verse">From flow'r to flow'r, his joy to change,</div> +<div class="versei1">Flits yonder wanton bee;</div> +<div class="verse">From fair to fair thus will I range,</div> +<div class="versei1">And I'll be ever free.</div> +<div class="verse">From fair to fair thus will I range,</div> +<div class="versei1">And I'll be ever free.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="charname">"PASTORA.</span> +<div class="verse">You little birds attentive view,</div> +<div class="versei1">That hop from tree to tree;</div> +<div class="verse">I'll copy them, I'll copy you,</div> +<div class="versei1">For I'll be ever free.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="charname">"DUETTO.</span> +<div class="verse">Then let's divide to east and west</div> +<div class="versei1">Since we shall ne'er agree;</div> +<div class="verse">And try who keeps their promise best</div> +<div class="versei1">And who's the longest free.</div> +<div class="verse">Let's try who keeps their promise best</div> +<div class="versei1">And who's the longest free."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And again the audience made bold to clap their hands; for Miss Georgie +Lestrange, despite her self-depreciation, sang very well indeed; and of +course Lionel Moore knew how to moderate his voice, so that the +combination was entirely pleasing. The further progress of the little +comedy needs not to be described here; it has only to be said that the +injured Laura is in the end restored to her repentant lover; and that a +final duet between her and Damon closes the piece with the most +praiseworthy sentiments:</p> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"For their honor and faith be our virgins renown'd,</div> +<div class="verse">Nor false to his vows one young shepherd he found;</div> +<div class="verse">Be their moments all guided by virtue and truth,</div> +<div class="verse">To preserve in their age what they gain'd in their youth,</div> +<div class="verse">To preserve in their age what they gain'd in their youth."</div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>Lord Rockminster rose from his chair, stretched his long legs, and threw +away his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Very well done," said he, slowly. "Congratulate all of you."</p> + +<p>"This is the first time I ever saw Rockminster sit out a morning +performance," observed Percy Lestrange, with a playful grin.</p> + +<p>"As for you young things," the mistress of the house said to her +girl-guests, as they were all trooping in by the French windows again, +"you must hurry home and get in-doors before the servants are up. I +don't want this frolic to be talked about all over the town."</p> + +<p>"A frolic, indeed!" Miss Georgie protested, as her brother was putting +her cloak round her shoulders. "I don't call it a<!-- Page 20 --><span class="pagenum">{20}</span> frolic at all. I call +it very serious business; and I'm looking forward to winning the deepest +gratitude of the English public—or at least as much of the English +public as you can cram into your garden, my dear."</p> + +<p>Then, as soon as the light wraps and dust-coats had been distributed and +donned, the members of the gay little party said good-bye to Lady Adela +in the front hall, and went down the carriage sweep to the gate. Here +there was a division; for the Lestranges were going north by Holland +Lane to Notting Hill; while Lord Rockminster and his two sisters, making +for Palace Gardens Terrace, walked with Lionel Moore only as far as +Campden Hill Road; thereafter he pursued his journey to Piccadilly +alone.</p> + +<p>And even now London was not fully awake, though the sun was touching the +topmost branches of the trees, and here and there a high window, struck +by the level rays, flashed back a gleam of gold. In this neighborhood +the thoroughfares were quite deserted; silence reigned over those +sleeping houses; the air was sweet and cool; now and again a stirring of +wind brought a scent of summer—blossom from within the +garden-enclosures. It is true that when he got down into Kensington Road +he found a long procession of wagons slowly making their way into the +great city; but this dull, drowsy noise was not ungrateful; in much +content and idly he walked away eastward, looking in from time to time +at the beautiful greensward of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. He was +in no hurry. He liked the stillness, the gracious coolness and quietude +of the morning, after the hot and feverish nights at the theatre. When +at length he reached his lodging in Piccadilly, let himself in with his +latch-key, and went up-stairs to his rooms, he did not go to bed at +once. He drew an easy-chair to the front window, threw himself into it, +lit a cigarette, and stared absently across to the branching elms and +grassy undulations of the Green Park. Perhaps he was thinking of the +pretty, fantastic little comedy that had just been performed up in that +garden at Campden Hill—like some dream-picture out of Boccaccio. And if +he chanced to recall the fact that the actor who originally played the +part of Damon, at Drury Lane, some hundred and forty years ago, married +in real life an earl's daughter, that was but a passing fancy. Of Lord +Fareborough's three daughters, it<!-- Page 21 --><span class="pagenum">{21}</span> was neither Lady Sybil nor Lady +Rosamund, it was the married sister, Lady Adela Cunyngham, who had +constituted herself his particular friend.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h4>THE GREAT GOD PAN.</h4> + + +<p>Late as he went to bed, sleep did not long detain him, for, in his own +happy-go-lucky, troubadour sort of life, he was one of the most occupied +of men even in this great, hurrying, bustling capital of the world. As +soon as he had donned his dressing-gown and come into the sitting-room, +he swallowed a cup of coffee that was waiting for him, and then, to make +sure that unholy hours and cigarettes had not hurt his voice, he dabbed +a note on the piano, and began to practise, in the open-throated Italian +fashion, those <i>vocalises</i> which sound so strangely to the +uninstructed ear. He rang for breakfast. He glanced in a despairing way +at the pile of letters and parcels awaiting him, the former, no doubt, +mostly invitations, the latter, as he could guess, proofs of his latest +sittings to the photographers, albums and birth-day books sent for his +autograph, music beseeching commendation, even manuscript plays +accompanied by pathetic appeals from unknown authors. Then there was a +long row of potted scarlet geraniums and large white daisies which the +house-porter had ranged by the window; and when he opened the note that +had been forwarded with these he found that the wife of a famous +statesman had observed as she drove along Piccadilly that the flowers in +his balcony wanted renewal and begged his acceptance of this graceful +little tribute. He took up a pair of dumb-bells, and had some exercise +with them, to keep his arms and chest in good condition. He looked at +himself in the mirror: no, he did not seem to have smoked inordinately; +nevertheless, he made sundry solemn vows about those insidious +cigarettes. Then he began to open the envelopes. Here was an imposing +card, "To have the honor of meeting their royal highnesses the king and +queen of ——;" here was a more modest bit of pasteboard with +"<i>R.S.V.P.</i> to mess president" at the lower corner; here were +invitations to breakfasts,<!-- Page 22 --><span class="pagenum">{22}</span> to luncheons, to afternoon squawks, to +Sunday dinners, to dances and crushes, in short, to every possible kind +of diversion and frivolity that the gay world of London could devise. He +went steadily on with his letters. More photographers wanted him to sit +to them. Would he accept the dedication of "The Squire's Daughter +Fantasia"? The composer of "The Starry Night Valses" would like a +lithographic portrait of Mr. Lionel Moore to appear on the cover. A +humble admirer of Mr. Lionel Moore's great impersonation of Harry +Thornhill begged to forward the enclosed acrostic, and might he be +allowed to print it in the <i>Mudborough Young Men's Mutual Improvement +Magazine</i>? Messrs. Smith & Smith would be extremely obliged if Mr. +Lionel Moore would honor them with his opinion of the accompanying pair +of their patent silver-mounted automatic self-adjusting braces.</p> + +<p>"If I don't get a secretary," he muttered to himself, "I shall soon be +in a mad-house."</p> + +<p>Nor did he pay much attention to his breakfast when it was put on the +table, for there were newspapers to be opened and glanced +through—country journals, most of them, with marked paragraphs +conveying the most unexpected, and even startling, intelligence +regarding himself, his occupations, and forthcoming engagements. Then +there were the book packets and the rolls of music to be examined; but +by this time he had lit an after-breakfast cigarette, and was proceeding +with something of indifference. Occasionally he strolled about the room, +or went to the window and looked down into the roaring highway of +Piccadilly, or across to the sunny foliage and pale-blue mists of the +Green Park. And then, in the midst of his vague meditations, the +following note was brought to him; it had been delivered by hand:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="sc">My dear Mr. Moore</span>,—I do so <i>awfully</i> want to see you, + about a matter of <i>urgent importance</i>. Do be good-natured + and come and lunch with us—any time before half-past two, if + possible. It will be <i>so</i> kind of you. I hope the <i>morning + performance</i> has done you no harm.</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><span class="sc">Adela Cunyngham.</span>"</span><p class="maxind">Yours, sincerely, </p></div> + +<p>Well, luncheon was not much in his way, for he usually dined at five; +nevertheless, Lady Adela was an especial friend of his and had been very +kind to him, and here was some serious business. So he hurried through +what correspondence was absolutely<!-- Page 23 --><span class="pagenum">{23}</span> necessary; he sent word to Green's +stables that he should not ride that morning; he walked round to a +certain gymnasium and had three quarters of an hour with the +fencing-master (this was an appointment which he invariably held +sacred); on his way back to his rooms he called in at Solomon's for a +buttonhole; and then, having got home and made certain alterations in +his toilet, he went out again, jumped into a hansom, and was driven up +to the top of Campden Hill, arriving there shortly after one o'clock.</p> + +<p>He found Lady Adela and Miss Georgie Lestrange in the drawing-room, or +rather just outside, on the little balcony overlooking the garden, and +neither of them seemed any the worse for that masquerading in the early +dawn; indeed, Miss Georgie's naturally fresh and bright complexion +flushed a little more than usual when she saw who this new-comer was, +for perhaps she was thinking of the very frank manner in which Damon had +expressed his admiration for Pastora but a few short hours ago.</p> + +<p>"I have been telling Georgie all about the dresses at the drawing-room," +said the tall young matron, as she gave him her hand and regarded him +with a friendly look; "but that won't interest you, Mr. Moore. We shall +have to talk about the new beauties, rather, to interest <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>He was a little puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I thought, Lady Adela, you said there was something—something of +importance—"</p> + +<p>"That depends," said she, with a pleasant smile in her clear, gray-blue +eyes. "I think it of importance; but it remains to be seen whether the +world is of the same opinion. Well, I won't keep you in suspense."</p> + +<p>She went to the piano, and brought back three volumes plainly bound in +green cloth.</p> + +<p>"Behold!"</p> + +<p>He took them from her, and glanced at the title-page: "Kathleen's +Sweethearts, a Novel, by Lady Arthur Castletown," was what he found +there.</p> + +<p>"So it is out at last," said he, for he had more than once heard of this +great work while it was still in progress.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, eagerly, "though it isn't issued to the public yet. The +fact is, Mr. Moore, I want you to help me. You<!-- Page 24 --><span class="pagenum">{24}</span> know all about +professional people, and the newspapers, and so on—who better?—and, of +course, I'm very anxious about my first book—my first big book, that +is—and I don't want it to get just thrown aside without ever being +glanced at. Now, what am I to do? You may speak quite freely before +Georgie—she's just as anxious as I am, every bit, I believe—only what +to do we can't tell."</p> + +<p>"All that I can think of," said the ruddy-haired young damsel, with a +laugh, "is to have little advertisements printed, and I will leave them +behind me wherever I go—in the stalls of a theatre, or at a concert, or +anywhere. You know, Adela, you can <i>not</i> expect me to turn myself +into a sandwich-man, and go about the streets between boards."</p> + +<p>"Georgie, you're frivolous," said Lady Adela, and she again turned to +Lionel Moore, who was still holding the three green volumes in his hands +in a helpless sort of fashion. "You know, Mr. Moore, there are such a +lot of books published nowadays—crowds!—shoals!—and, unless there is +a little attention drawn beforehand, what chance have you? I want a +friend in court—I want several friends in court—and that's the truth; +now, how am I to get them?"</p> + +<p>This was plain speaking; but he was none the less bewildered.</p> + +<p>"You see, Lady Adela, the theatre is so different from the world of +letters. I've met one or two newspaper men now and again, but they were +dramatic critics—I never heard that they reviewed books."</p> + +<p>"But they were connected with newspapers?—then they must know the men +who do," said this alert and intelligent lady. "Oh, I don't ask for +anything unfair! I only ask for a chance. I don't want to be thrown into +a corner unread or sold to the second-hand bookseller uncut. Now, Mr. +Moore, think. You must know <i>lots</i> of newspaper men if you would +only <i>think</i>: why, they're always coming about theatres. And they +would do anything for you, for you are such a popular favorite; and a +word from you would be of such value to a beginner like me. Now, Mr. +Moore, be good-natured, and consider. But first of all come away and +have some lunch, and then we'll talk it over."</p> + +<p>When they had gone into the dining-room and sat down at table, he said,</p> + +<p>"Well, if it comes to that, I certainly know one newspaper<!-- Page 25 --><span class="pagenum">{25}</span> man; in +fact, I have known him all my life; he is my oldest friend. But then +he is merely the head of the Parliamentary reporting staff of the +<i>Morning Mirror</i>—he's in the gallery of the House of Commons, you +know, every night—and I'm afraid he couldn't do much about a book."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't he do a little, Mr. Moore?" said Lady Adela, insidiously. +"Couldn't he get it hinted in the papers that 'Lady Arthur Castletown' +is only a <i>nom de plume</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Then you don't object to your own name being mentioned?" asked this +simple young man.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not at all," said she, frankly. "People are sure to get to +know. There are some sketches of character in the book that I think will +make a little stir—I mean people will be asking questions; and then you +know how a pseudonym whets curiosity—they will certainly find out—and +they will talk all the more then. That ought to do the book some good. +And then you understand, Mr. Moore," continued this remarkably naive +person, "if your friend happened to know any of the reviewers, and could +suggest how some little polite attention might be paid them, there would +be nothing wrong in that, would there? I am told that they are quite +gentlemen nowadays—they go everywhere—and—and indeed I should like to +make their acquaintance, since I've come into the writing fraternity +myself."</p> + +<p>Lionel Moore was silent; he was considering how he should approach the +fastidious, whimsical, sardonic Maurice Mangan on this extremely +difficult subject.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," he said, presently. "This is Wednesday; my friend Mangan +won't be at the House; I will send a message to his rooms, and ask him +to come down to the theatre: then we can have a consultation about it. +May I take this copy of the book with me, Lady Adela?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly!" said she, with promptitude. "And if you know of +any one to whom I should send a copy, with the author's name in it—my +own name, I mean—it would be extremely kind of you to let me know. It's +so awfully hard for us poor outsiders to get a hearing. You professional +folk are in a very different position—the public just worship you—you +have it all your own way—you don't need to care what the critics +say—but look at <i>me</i>! I may knock and knock at the door<!-- Page 26 --><span class="pagenum">{26}</span> of the +Temple of Fame until my knuckles are sore, and who will take any +notice—unless, perhaps, some friendly ear begins to listen? Do you +think Mr. Mangan—did you say Mangan?—do you think he would come and +dine with us some evening?"</p> + +<p>The artless ingenuousness of her speech was almost embarrassing.</p> + +<p>"He is a very busy man," he said, doubtfully, "very busy. He has his +gallery work to do, of course; and then I believe he is engaged on some +important philosophical treatise—he has been at it for years, indeed—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he writes books too?" Lady Adela cried. "Then certainly you must +bring him to dinner. Shall I write a note now, Mr. Moore—a Sunday +evening, of course, so that we may secure you as well—"</p> + +<p>"I think I would wait a little, Lady Adela," he said, "until I see how +the land lies. He's a most curious fellow, Mangan: difficult to please +and capricious. I fancy he is rather disappointed with himself; he ought +to have done something great, for he knows everything—at least he knows +what is fine in everything, in painting, in poetry, in music; and yet, +with all his sympathy, he seems to be forever grumbling—and mostly at +himself. He is a difficult fellow to deal with—"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he eats his dinner like anybody else," said Lady Adela, +somewhat sharply: she was not used to having her invitations scorned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I think he would prefer to eat it in a village ale-house," +Lionel said, with a smile, "where he could make 'the violet of a legend +blow, among the chops and steaks.' However, I will take him your book, +Lady Adela; and I have no doubt he will be able to give you some good +advice."</p> + +<p>It was late that evening when, in obedience to the summons of a sixpenny +telegram, Maurice Mangan called at the stage-door of the New Theatre and +was passed in. Lionel Moore was on the stage, as any one could tell, for +the resonant baritone voice was ringing clear above the multitudinous +music of the orchestra; but Mangan, not wishing to be in the way, did +not linger in the wings—he made straight for his friend's room, which +he knew. And in the dusk of the long corridor he was fortunate enough to +behold a beautiful apparition, in the person of a young French officer +in the gayest of uniforms, who, apparently to maintain<!-- Page 27 --><span class="pagenum">{27}</span> the character he +bore in the piece (it was that of a young prisoner of war liberated on +parole, who played sad havoc with the hearts of the village maidens by +reason of his fascinating ways and pretty broken English), had just +facetiously chucked two of the women dressers under the chin; and these +damsels were simpering at this mark of condescension, and evidently much +impressed by the swagger and braggadocio of the miniature warrior. +However, Mlle. Girond (the boy-officer in question) no sooner caught +sight of the new-comer than she instantly and demurely altered her +demeanor; and as she passed him in the corridor she favored him with a +grave and courteous little bow, for she had met him more than once in +Miss Burgoyne's sitting-room. Mangan returned the salutation most +respectfully; and then he went on and entered the apartment in which +Lionel Moore dressed.</p> + +<p>It was empty; so this tall, thin man with the slightly stooping +shoulders threw himself into a wicker-work easy-chair, and let his +eyes—which were much keener than was properly compatible with the +half-affected expression of indolence that had become habitual to +him—roam over the heterogeneous collection of articles around. These +were abundantly familiar to him—the long dressing-table, with all its +appliances for making-up, the mirrors, the wigs on blocks, the +gay-colored garments, the fencing-foils and swords, the framed series of +portraits from "Vanity Fair," the innumerable photographs stuck +everywhere about. Indeed, it was something not immediately connected +with these paraphernalia of an actor's existence that seemed to be +occupying his mind, even as he idly regarded the various pastes and +colors, the powder-puffs and pencils, the pots of vaseline. His eyes +grew absent as he sat there. Was he thinking of the Linn Moore of years +and years ago who used to reveal to the companion of his boyhood all his +high aims and strenuous ambitions—how he was resolved to become a +Mendelssohn, a Mozart, a Beethoven? Whither had fled all those wistful +dreams and ardent aspirations? What was Linn Moore now?—why, a singer +in comic opera, his face beplastered almost out of recognition; a pet of +the frivolous-fashionable side of London society; the chief adornment of +photographers' windows.</p> + +<p>"'Half a beast is the great god Pan,'" this tall, languid-looking<!-- Page 28 --><span class="pagenum">{28}</span> man +murmured to himself, as he was vacuously staring at those paints and +brushes and cosmetics; and then he got up and began to walk +indeterminately about the room, his hands behind his back.</p> + +<p>Presently the door was opened, and in came Lionel Moore, followed by his +dresser.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Maurice!—you're late," said Harry Thornhill, as he surrendered +himself to his factotum, who forthwith began to strip him of his +travelling costume of cocked hat, frogged coat, white leather breeches, +and shining black boots in order to make way for the more brilliant +attire of the last act.</p> + +<p>"Now that I am here, what are your highness's commands?" Mangan asked.</p> + +<p>"There's a book there—written by a friend of mine," Lionel said, as he +was helping his dresser to get off the glittering top-boots. "She wants +me to do what I can for her with the press. What do I know about that? +Still, she is a very particular friend—and you must advise me."</p> + +<p>Mangan rose and went to the mantelpiece and took down Volume I.</p> + +<p>"Lady Arthur Castletown—" said he.</p> + +<p>"But that is not her real name," the other interposed. "Her real name is +Lady Adela Cunyngham—of course you know who she is."</p> + +<p>"I have been permitted to hear the echo of her name from those rare +altitudes in which you dwell now," the other said, lazily. "So she is +one of your fashionable acquaintances; and she wants to secure the puff +preliminary, and a number of favorable reviews, I suppose; and then you +send for me. But what can I do for you except ask one or two of the +gallery men to mention the book in their London Correspondent's letter?"</p> + +<p>"But that's the very thing, my dear fellow!" Lionel Moore cried, as he +was getting on his white silk stockings. "The very thing! She wants +attention drawn to the book. She doesn't want to be passed over. She +wants to have the name of the book and the name of the author brought +before the public—"</p> + +<p>"Her real name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly, if that is advisable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, there's not much trouble about that. You can always minister +to a mind diseased by a morbid craving for notoriety<!-- Page 29 --><span class="pagenum">{29}</span> if a paragraph in +a country newspaper will suffice. So this is part of what your +fashionable friends expect from you, Linn, in return for their +patronage?"</p> + +<p>"It's nothing of the kind; she would do as much for me, if she knew how, +or if there were any occasion."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it is no great thing," said Mangan, who was really a very +good-natured sort of person, despite his supercilious talk. "In fact, +you might do her ladyship a more substantial service than that."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you knew Quirk—Octavius Quirk?"</p> + +<p>"But you have always spoken so disparagingly of him!" the other +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it?" Mangan asked; and then he continued, in +his indolent fashion: "Why, I thought you knew all about Quirk. Quirk +belongs to a band of literary weaklings, not any one of whom can do +anything worth speaking of; but they try their best to write up one +another; and sometimes they take it into their heads to help an +acquaintance—and then their cry is like that of a pack of beagles? you +would think the press of London, or a considerable section of it, +had but one voice. Why don't you take Lady Arthur's—Lady +Constance's—what's her name?—why don't you take her book to the noble +association of log-rollers? I presume the novel is trash; they'll +welcome it all the more. She is a woman—she is not to be feared; she +hasn't as yet committed the crime of being successful—she isn't to be +envied and anonymously attacked. That's the ticket for you, Linn. They +mayn't convince the public that Lady What's-her-name is a wonderful +person; but they will convince her that she is; and what more does she +want?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you, Maurice!" the young baritone cried, almost +angrily. "Again and again you've spoken of Octavius Quirk as if he were +beneath contempt."</p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it?" the other repeated, placidly. "As an +independent writer, Quirk is quite beneath contempt—quite. There is no +backbone in his writing at all, and he knows his own weakness; and he +thinks he can conceal it by the use of furious adjectives. He is always +in a frantic rush and flurry, that produces no impression on anybody. A +whirlwind of feathers, that's about it. He goes out into the highway<!-- Page 30 --><span class="pagenum">{30}</span> +and brandishes a double-handed sword—in order to sweep off the head of +a buttercup. And I suppose he expects the public to believe that his +wild language, all about nothing, means strength; just as he hopes that +they will take his noisy horse-laugh for humor. That's Octavius Quirk as +a writer—a nobody, a nothing, a wisp of straw in convulsions; but as a +puffer—ah, there you have him!—as a puffer, magnificent, glorious, a +Greek hero, invincible, invulnerable. My good man, it's Octavius Quirk +you should go to! Get him to call on his pack of beagles to give tongue; +and then, my goodness, you'll hear a cry—for a while at least. Is there +anything at all in the book?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Harry Thornhill, who had changed quickly, and was +now regaling himself with a little of Miss Burgoyne's lemonade, with +which the prima-donna was so kind as to keep him supplied. "Well, now, I +shall be on the stage some time; what do you say to looking over Lady +Adela's novel?"</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>There was a tapping at the door; it was the call-boy.</p> + +<p>But Lionel Moore did not immediately answer the summons.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Maurice; if you should find anything in the book—anything +you could say a word in favor of—I wish you'd come round to the Garden +Club with me, after the performance, and have a bit of supper. Octavius +Quirk is almost sure to be there."</p> + +<p>"What, Quirk? I thought the Garden was given over to dukes and comic +actors?"</p> + +<p>"There's a sprinkling of everybody in it," the young baritone said; "and +Quirk likes it because it is an all-night club—he never seems to go to +bed at all. Will you do that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Maurice Mangan said; and forthwith, as his friend left the +dressing-room, he plunged into Lady Adela's novel.</p> + +<p>The last act of "The Squire's Daughter" is longer than its predecessors; +so that Mangan had plenty of time to acquire some general knowledge of +the character and contents of these three volumes. Indeed, he had more +than time for all the brief scrutiny he deemed necessary; when Lionel +Moore reappeared, to get finally quit of his theatrical trappings for +the night, his friend was standing at the fireplace, looking at a sketch +in brown chalk of Miss Burgoyne, which that amiable young lady had +herself presented to Harry Thornhill.<!-- Page 31 --><span class="pagenum">{31}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, what's the verdict?"</p> + +<p>Mangan turned round, rather bewildered; and then he recollected that he +had been glancing at the novel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>that</i>!" he said, regarding the three volumes with no very +favorable air, "Mighty poor stuff, I should say; just about as weak as +they make it. But harmless. Some of the conversation—between the +women—is natural; trivial, but natural. The plain truth is, my dear +Linn, it is a very foolish, stupid book, which should never have been +printed at all; but I suppose your fashionable friend could afford to +pay for having it printed."</p> + +<p>"But, look here, Maurice," Lionel said, in considerable surprise, "I +don't see how it can be so very stupid, when Lady Adela herself is one +of the brightest, cleverest, shrewdest, most intelligent women you could +meet with anywhere—quite unusually so."</p> + +<p>"That may be; but she is not the first clever woman who has made the +mistake of imagining that because she is socially popular she must +therefore be able to write a book."</p> + +<p>"And what am I to say to Octavius Quirk?"</p> + +<p>"What are you to say to the log-rollers? Don't say anything. Get Lady +Adela to ask one or two of them to dinner. You'll fetch Quirk that way +easily; they say Gargantua was a fool compared to him."</p> + +<p>"I've seen him do pretty well at the Garden, especially about two in the +morning," was the young baritone's comment; and then, as he began to get +into his ordinary attire, he said, "To tell you the truth, Maurice, Lady +Adela rather hinted that she would be pleased to make the acquaintance +of any—of any literary man—"</p> + +<p>"Who could do her book a good turn?"</p> + +<p>"No, you needn't put it as rudely as that. She rather feels that, in +becoming an authoress, she has allied herself with literary people—and +would naturally like to make acquaintances; so, if it came to that, I +should consider myself empowered to ask Quirk whether he would accept an +invitation to dinner—I mean, at Cunyngham Lodge. It's no use asking +you, Maurice?" he added, with a little hesitation.</p> + +<p>Maurice Mangan laughed.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Linn, my boy; thank you all the same, I say," he<!-- Page 32 --><span class="pagenum">{32}</span> continued, as +he took up his hat and stick, seeing that Lionel was about ready to go, +"do you ever hear from Miss Francie Wright, or have you forgotten her +among all your fine friends?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hear from Francie sometimes," he answered, carelessly, "or about +her, anyway, whenever I get a letter from home. She's very well. +Boarding out pauper sick children is her new fad; and I believe she's +very busy and very happy over it. Come along, Maurice; we'll walk up to +the Garden, and get something of an appetite for supper."</p> + +<p>When they arrived at the Garden Club (so named from its proximity to +Covent Garden) they went forthwith into the spacious apartment on the +ground floor which served at once as dining-room, newspaper-room, and +smoking-room. There was hardly anybody in it. Four young men in evening +dress were playing cards at a side-table; at another table a solitary +member was writing; but at the long supper-table—which was prettily lit +up with crimson-shaded lamps, and the appointments of which seemed very +trim and clean and neat—all the chairs were empty, and the only other +occupants of the place were the servants, who wore a simple livery of +white linen.</p> + +<p>"What for supper, Maurice?" the younger of the two friends asked.</p> + +<p>"Anything—with salad," Mangan answered; he was examining a series of +old engravings that hung around the walls.</p> + +<p>"On a warm night like this what do you say to cold lamb, salad, and some +hock and iced soda-water?"</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>Supper was speedily forthcoming, and, as they took their places, Mangan +said,</p> + +<p>"You don't often go down to see the old people, Linn?"</p> + +<p>"I'm so frightfully busy!"</p> + +<p>"Has Miss Francie ever been up to the theatre—to see 'The Squire's +Daughter,' I mean?"—this question he seemed to put rather diffidently.</p> + +<p>"No. I've asked her often enough; but she always laughs and puts it off. +She seems to be as busy down there as I am up here."</p> + +<p>"What does she think of the great name and fame you have made for +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?"<!-- Page 33 --><span class="pagenum">{33}</span></p> + +<p>Then there was silence for a second or two.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd run down to see them some Sunday, Linn; I'd go down with +you."</p> + +<p>"Why not go down by yourself?—they'd be tremendously glad to see you."</p> + +<p>"I should be more welcome if I took you with me. You know your cousin +likes you to pay a little attention to the old people. Come! Say Sunday +week."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, Sunday is my busiest day. Sunday night is the only +night I have out of the seven. And I fancy that it is for that very +Sunday evening that Lord Rockminster has engaged the Lansdowne Gallery; +he gives a little dinner-party, and his sisters have a big concert +afterwards—we've all got to sing the chorus of the new marching-song +Lady Sybil has composed for the army."</p> + +<p>"Who is Lady Sybil?"</p> + +<p>"The sister of the authoress whose novel you were reading."</p> + +<p>"My gracious! is there another genius in the family?"</p> + +<p>"There's a third," said Lionel, with a bit of a smile. "What would you +say if Lady Rosamund Bourne were to paint a portrait of me as Harry +Thornhill for the Royal Academy?"</p> + +<p>"I should say the betting was fifty to one against its getting in."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you're unjust, Maurice; you don't know them. I dare say you judged +that novel by some high literary standard that it doesn't pretend to +reach. I am sure of this, that if it's half as clever as Lady Adela +Cunyngham herself, it will do very well."</p> + +<p>"It will do very well for the kind of people who will read it," said the +other, indifferently.</p> + +<p>This was a free-and-easy place; when they had finished supper, Lionel +Moore lit a cigarette, and his friend a briar-root pipe, without moving +from the table; and Mangan's prayer was still that his companion should +fix Sunday week for a visit to the little Surrey village where they had +been boys together, and where Lionel's father and mother (to say nothing +of a certain Miss Francie Wright, whose name cropped up more than once +in Mangan's talk) were still living. But during this entreaty Lionel's +attention happened to be attracted to the glass door<!-- Page 34 --><span class="pagenum">{34}</span> communicating with +the hall; and instantly he said, in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"Here's a stroke of luck, Maurice; Quirk has just come in. How am I to +sound him? What should I do?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't I told you?" said Mangan, curtly. "Get your swell friends to +feed him."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, this short, fat man, who now strode into the room and +nodded briefly to these two acquaintances, speedily showed that on +occasion he knew how to feed himself. He called a waiter, and ordered an +underdone beefsteak with Spanish onions, toasted cheese to follow, and a +large bottle of stout to begin with; then he took the chair at the head +of the table, thus placing himself next to Lionel Moore.</p> + +<p>"A very empty den to-night," observed this new-comer, whose heavy face, +watery blue eyes, lank hair plentifully streaked with gray, and +unwholesome complexion would not have produced a too-favorable +impression on any one unacquainted with his literary gifts and graces.</p> + +<p>Lionel agreed; and then followed a desultory conversation about nothing +in particular, though Mr. Octavius Quirk was doing his best to say +clever things and show off his boisterous humor. Indeed, it was not +until that gentleman's very substantial supper was being brought in that +Lionel got an opportunity of artfully asking him whether he had heard +anything of Lady Adela Cunyngham's forthcoming novel. He was about to +proceed to explain that "Lady Arthur Castletown" was only a pseudonym, +when he was interrupted by Octavius Quirk bursting into a roar—a +somewhat affected roar—of scornful laughter.</p> + +<p>"Well, of all the phenomena of the day, that is the most ludicrous," he +cried, "—the so-called aristocracy thinking that they can produce +anything in the shape of art or literature. The aristocracy—the most +exhausted of all our exhausted social strata—what can be expected from +<i>it</i>? Why, we haven't anywhere nowadays either art or literature or +drama that is worthy of the name—not anywhere—it is all a ghastly, +spurious make-believe—a mechanical manufactory of paintings and books +and plays without a spark of life in them—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf34" id="illusf34"></a> +<img src="images/illusf34.jpg" alt=""When they had finished supper, Lionel Moore lit a +cigarette, and his friend a brier-root pipe."" /> +<h5><b><i>"When they had finished supper, Lionel Moore lit a +cigarette, and his friend a brier-root pipe."</i></b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>Lionel Moore resentfully thought to himself that if Mr. Quirk had been +able to do anything in any one of these directions he <!-- Page 35 --><span class="pagenum">{35}</span>might have held +less despairing views; but, of course, he did not interrupt this feebly +tempestuous monologue.</p> + +<p>"—We are all played out, that is the fact—the soil is exhausted—we +want a great national upheaval—a new condition of things—a social +revolution, in short. And we're going to get it" he continued, in a sort +of triumphant way; "there's no mistake about that; the social revolution +is in the air, it is under our feet, it is pressing in upon us from +every side; and yet at the very moment that the aristocracy have got +notice to quit their deer-forests and their salmon-rivers and +grouse-moors, they so far mistake the signs of the times that they think +they should be devoting themselves to art and going on the stage! Was +there ever such incomprehensible madness?"</p> + +<p>"I hope they won't sweep away deer-forests and grouse-moors just all at +once," the young baritone said, modestly, "for I am asked to go to the +Highlands at the beginning of next August."</p> + +<p>"Make haste, then, and see the last of these doomed institutions" +observed Mr. Quirk, with dark significance, as he looked up from his +steak and onions. "I tell you deer-forests are doomed; grouse-moors are +doomed; salmon-rivers are doomed. They are a survival of feudal rights +and privileges which the new democracy—the new ruling power—will make +short work of. The time has gone by for all these absurd restrictions +and reservations! There is no defence for them; there never was; they +were conceived in an iniquity of logic which modern common-sense will no +longer suffer. <i>Bona vacantia</i> can't belong to anybody—therefore +they belong to the king; that's a pretty piece of reasoning, isn't it? +And if the crofter or the laborer says, '<i>Bona vacantia</i> can't +belong to anybody—therefore they belong to me'—isn't the reasoning as +good? But it is not merely game-laws that must be abolished, it is game +itself."</p> + +<p>"If you abolish the one, you'll soon get rid of the other," Maurice +Mangan said, with a kind of half-contemptuous indifference; he was +examining this person in a curious way, as he might have looked through +the wires of a cage in the Zoological Gardens.</p> + +<p>"Both must be abolished," Mr. Octavius Quirk continued, with windy +vehemence. "The very distinction that takes any animal <i>feræ +naturæ</i> and constitutes it game is a relic of class privilege and +must go—"<!-- Page 36 --><span class="pagenum">{36}</span></p> + +<p>"Then Irish landlords will no longer be considered <i>feræ naturæ</i>?" +Mangan asked, incidentally.</p> + +<p>"We must be free from these feudal tyrannies, these mediæval chains and +manacles that the Norman kings imposed on a conquered people. We must be +as free as the United States of America—"</p> + +<p>"America!" Mangan said; and he was rude enough to laugh. "The State of +New York has more stringent game-laws than any European country that I +know of; and why not? They wanted to preserve certain wild animals, for +the general good; and they took the only possible way."</p> + +<p>Quirk was disconcerted only for a moment; presently he had resumed, in +his reckless, <i>mouton-enragé</i> fashion,</p> + +<p>"That may be; but the Democracy of Great Britain has pronounced against +game; and game must go; there is no disputing the fact. Hunting in any +civilized community is a relic of barbarism; it is worse in this +country—it is an infringement of the natural rights of the tiller of +the soil. What is the use of talking about it?—the whole thing is +doomed; if you're going to Scotland this autumn, Mr. Moore, if you are +to be shown all those exclusive pastimes of the rich and privileged +classes, well, I'd advise you to keep your eyes open, and write as clear +an account of what you see as you can; and, by Jove, twenty years hence +your book will be read with amazement by the new generation!"</p> + +<p>Here the pot of foaming stout claimed his attention; he buried his head +in it; and thereafter, sitting back in his chair, sighed forth his +satisfaction. The time was come for a large cigar.</p> + +<p>And how, in the face of this fierce denunciation of the wealthy classes +and all their ways, could Lionel Moore put in a word for Lady Adela's +poor little literary infant? It would be shrivelled into nothing by a +blast of this simulated simoom. It would be trodden under foot by the +log-roller's elephantine jocosity. In a sort of despair he turned to +Maurice Mangan, and would have entered into conversation with him but +that Mangan now rose and said he must be going, nor could he be +prevailed on to stay. Lionel accompanied him into the hall.</p> + +<p>"That Jabberwock makes me sick; he's such an ugly devil," Mangan said, +as he put on his hat; and surely that was strange<!-- Page 37 --><span class="pagenum">{37}</span> language coming from +a grave philosopher who was about to publish a volume on the +"Fundamental Fallacies of M. Comte."</p> + +<p>"But what am I to do, Maurice?" Lionel said, as his friend was leaving. +"It's no use asking for his intervention at present; he's simply running +amuck."</p> + +<p>"If your friend—Lady What's-her-name—is as clever as you say, she'll +just twist that fellow round her finger," the other observed, briefly. +"Good-night, Linn."</p> + +<p>And indeed it was not of Octavius Little, nor yet of Lady Adela's novel, +that Maurice Mangan was thinking as he carelessly walked away through +the dark London thoroughfares, towards his rooms in Victoria Street. He +was thinking of that quiet little Surrey village; and of two boys there +who had a great belief in each other—and in themselves, too, for the +matter of that; and of all the beautiful and wonderful dreams they +dreamed while as yet the far-reaching future was veiled from them. And +then he thought of Linn Moore's dressing-room at the theatre; and of the +paints and powder and vulgar tinsel that had to fit him out for +exhibition before the footlights; and of the feverish whirl of life and +the bedazzlement of popularity and fashionable petting; and somehow or +other the closing lines of Mrs. Browning's poem would come ever and anon +into his head as a sort of unceasing refrain:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,—</div> +<div class="verse">For the reed that grows nevermore again</div> +<div class="versei2">As a reed with the reeds in the river."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h4>NINA.</h4> + + +<p>One morning Lionel was just about to go out (he had already been round +to the gymnasium and got his fencing over) when the house-porter came up +and said that a young lady wished to see him.</p> + +<p>"What does she want?" he said, impatiently—for something had gone wrong +with the clasp of his cigarette-case, and he could not get it right. +"What's her name? Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"She gave me her name, sir; but I did not quite catch it," said the +factotum of the house.<!-- Page 38 --><span class="pagenum">{38}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, well, send her up," said he; no doubt this was some trembling +<i>débutante</i>, accompanied by an ancient duenna and a roll of music. And +then he went to the window, to try to get the impenitent clasp to shut.</p> + +<p>But perhaps he would not have been so wholly engrossed with that +trifling difficulty had he known who this was who had come softly up the +stair and was now standing, irresolute, smiling, wondering, at the open +door. She was a remarkably pretty, even handsome young lady, whose pale, +clear, olive complexion and coal-black hair bespoke her Southern birth; +while there was an eager and yet timid look in her lustrous, soft black +eyes, and something about the mobile, half-parted mouth that seemed to +say she hardly knew whether to cry or laugh over this meeting with an +old friend. A very charming picture she presented there; for, besides +her attractive personal appearance, she was very neatly, not to say +coquettishly, dressed, her costume, which had a distinctly foreign air, +being all of black, save for the smart little French-looking hat of deep +crimson straw and velvet.</p> + +<p>At last she said,</p> + +<p>"Leo!"</p> + +<p>He turned instantly, and had nearly dropped the cigarette-case in his +amazement. And for a second he seemed paralyzed of speech—he was wholly +bewildered—perhaps overcome by some swift sense of responsibility at +finding Antonia Rossi in London, and alone.</p> + +<p>"Che, Nina mia," he cried; "tu stai cca a Londra!—chesta mo, chi su +credeva!—e senza manca scriverme nu viers' e lettere—Nina!—mi pare nu +suonno!—"</p> + +<p>She interrupted him; she came forward, smiling—and the parting of the +pretty lips showed a sunny gleam of teeth; she held up her two hands, +palm outwards, as if she would shut away from herself that old, familiar +Neapolitanese.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no, Leo," she said, rapidly, "I speak English now—I study, +study, study, morning, day, night; and always I say, 'When I see Leo, he +have much surprise that I speak English'—always I say, 'Some day I go +to England, and when I see Leo'—"</p> + +<p>The happy, eager smile suddenly died away from her face. She looked at +him. A strange kind of trouble—of doubt and wonderment and pain—came +into those soft, dark, expressive eyes.<!-- Page 39 --><span class="pagenum">{39}</span></p> + +<p>"You—you not wish to see me, Leo?" she said, rather breathlessly—and +as if she could hardly believe this thing. "I come to London—and you +not glad to see me—"</p> + +<p>Quick tears of wounded pride sprang to the long black lashes; but, with +a dignified, even haughty inclination of the head, she turned from him +and put her hand on the handle of the door. At the same instant he +caught her arm.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nina, you're just the spoiled child you always were! Ah, your +English doesn't go so far as that; you don't know what a spoiled child +is?—<i>è la cianciosella</i>, you Neapolitan girl! Why, of course I'm glad +to see you—I am delighted to see you—but you frightened me, Nina—your +coming like this, alone—"</p> + +<p>"I frighten you, Leo?" she said, and a quick laugh shone brightly +through her tears. "Ah, I see—it is that I have no chaperon? But I had +no time—I wished to see you, Leo—I said, 'Leo will understand, and +afterwards I get a chaperon all correctly.' Oh, yes, yes, I know—but +where is the time?—yesterday I go through the streets—it is Leo, Leo +everywhere in the windows—I see you in this costume, in the other +costume—and your name so large, so very large, in the—in the—"</p> + +<p>"The theatre-bills? Well, sit down, Nina, and tell me how you come to be +in London."</p> + +<p>She had by this time quite forgiven or forgotten his first dismay on +finding her there; and now she took a chair with much quiet +complaisance, and sat down, and put her black silk sunshade across her +knees.</p> + +<p>"It is simple," she said, and from time to time she regarded him in a +very frank and pleased and even affectionate way, as if the old +comradeship of the time when they were both studying in Naples was not +to be interfered with by the natural timidity of a young and extremely +pretty woman coming as a stranger into a strange town. "You remember +Carmela, Leo? Carmela and her—her spouse—they have great +good-fortune—they get a grand prize in the lottery—then he says, +'Carmeluccia, we will go to Paris—we will go to Paris, Carmeluccia—and +why not Nina also?' Very kind, was it not?—but Andrea is always kind, so +also Carmela, to me. Then I am in Paris. I say, 'It is not far to +London; I go to London; I go to London and see Leo.' Perhaps I get an +engagement—oh, no, no, no, you shall not laugh!" she broke in—though +it was she herself who was laughing,<!-- Page 40 --><span class="pagenum">{40}</span> and not he at all. "I am +improved—oh, yes, a little—a little improved—you remember old +Pandiani he always say my voice not bad, but that <i>agilità</i> was for me +very difficult."</p> + +<p>He remembered very well; but he also remembered that when he left +Naples, Signorina Rossi was laboring away with the most pertinacious +assiduity at cavatinas full of runs and scales and <i>fiorituri</i> +generally; and he was quite willing to believe that such diligence had +met with its due reward. But when the young lady modestly hinted that +she had left her music in the hall below, and would like Leo to hear +whether she had not acquired a good deal more of flexibility than her +voice used to possess, and when he had fetched the music and taken it to +the piano for her, he was not a little surprised to see her select +Ambroise Thomas's "Io son Titania." And he was still more astonished +when he found her singing this difficult piece of music with a +brilliancy, an ease, a <i>verve</i> of execution that he had never dreamed of +her being able to reach.</p> + +<p>"Brava! Brava! Bravissima!—Well, you <i>have</i> improved, Nina!" he +exclaimed. "And it isn't only in freedom of production, it is in +quality, too, in <i>timbre</i>—my goodness, your voice has ever so much more +volume and power! Come, now, try some big, dramatic thing—"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Leo, I know what I do," she said. "I shall never have the grand +style—never—but you think I am improved? Yes. Well, now, I sing +something else."</p> + +<p>He forgot all about her lack of a chaperon; they were fellow-students +again, as in the old days at Naples, when they worked hard (and also +played a little), when they comforted each other, and strove to bear +with equanimity the grumbling and querulousness of that +always-dissatisfied old Pandiani. Signorina Rossi now sang the Shadow +Song from "Dinorah;" then she sang the Jewel Song from "Faust;" she sang +"Caro nome" from "Rigoletto," or anything else that he could suggest; +and her runs and shakes and scale passages were delivered with a freedom +and precision that again and again called forth his applause.</p> + +<p>"And you have never sung in public, Nina?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"At one concert, yes, in Naples," the young lady made answer. "And at +two or three <i>matinées</i>" And then she turned to him, with a bright look. +"You know this, Leo?—I am offered—no—I<!-- Page 41 --><span class="pagenum">{41}</span> was offered—an engagement to +sing in opera; oh, yes; it was the <i>impresario</i> from Malta—he comes to +Naples—Pandiani makes us all sing to him—then will I go to Malta, to +the opera there? No!"</p> + +<p>"Why not, Nina? Surely that was a good opening," he said.</p> + +<p>She turned away from him again, and her fingers wandered lightly over +the keys of the piano.</p> + +<p>"I always say to me, 'Some day I am in England; the English give much +money at concerts; perhaps that is better.'"</p> + +<p>"So you've come over to England to get a series of concert-room +engagements; is that it, Nina?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. One must wait and see. It is not my ambition. No. The light +opera, that is—popular?—is it right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"It is very popular in England," said the young Italian lady, with her +eyes coming back from the music-sheets to seek those of her friend." +Well, Leo, if I take a small part to begin, have I voice sufficient? +What do you think? No; be frank; say to yourself, 'I am Pandiani; here +is Antonia Rossi troubling me once more; it is useless; go away, Antonia +Rossi, and not trouble me!' Well, Maestro Pandiani, what you say?"</p> + +<p>"So you want to go on the stage, Nina?" said he; and again the dread of +finding himself responsible for this solitary young stranger sent a +qualm to his heart. It was an embarrassing position altogether; but at +the same time the thought of shaking her off—of getting free from this +responsibility by telling a white lie or two and persuading her to go +back to Naples—that thought never even occurred to him. To shake off +his old comrade Nina? He certainly would have preferred, for many +reasons, that she should have taken to concert-room business; but if she +were relying on him for an introduction to the lyric stage, why, he was +bound to help her in every possible way. "You know you've got an +excellent voice," he continued. "And a very little stage training would +fit you for a small part in comedy-opera, if that is what you're +thinking of, as a beginning. But I don't know that you would like it, +Nina. You see, you would have to become under-study for the lady who has +the part at present; and they'd probably want you to sing in the chorus; +and you'd get a very small salary—at first, you know,<!-- Page 42 --><span class="pagenum">{42}</span> until you were +qualified to take one of the more important parts—and then you might +get into a travelling company—"</p> + +<p>"A small part?" said she, with much cheerfulness. "Oh, yes; why not? I +must learn."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know that you would like it," he said, still ruefully. "You +see, Nina, you might have to dress in the same room with two or three of +the chorus-girls—"</p> + +<p>"And then?" she said, with a little dramatic gesture, and an elevation +of her beautifully formed black eyebrows. "Leo, you never saw my +lodgings with the family Debernardi—you have only mount the stairs—"</p> + +<p>"My goodness, Nina, I could guess what the inside of the rooms was like, +if they were anything like those interminable and horrid stairs!" he +exclaimed, with a laugh. "And you who were always so fond of pretty +things, and flowers, and always so particular when we went to a +restaurant—to live with the Debernardis!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo, you imagine not why?" she said, also laughing, and when she +laughed her milk-white teeth shone merrily. "Old Pietro Debernardi he +lives in England some years; he speaks English, perhaps not very well, +but he speaks; then he teach me as he knows; and when it is possible I +go on the <i>Risposta</i> and sail over to Capri, and all the way, and all +the return, I listen, and listen, and listen to the English people; and +I remember, and I practise alone in my own room, and I say, 'Leo, he +must not ridicule me, when I go to England.'"</p> + +<p>"Ridicule you!" said he, indignantly. "I wish I could speak Italian as +freely as you speak English, Nina!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you speak Italian very well," said she. "But why you speak still +the Neapolitan dialetto—dialect, is it right?—that you hear in the +shops and the streets? Ah, I remember you are so proud of it, and when I +try to teach you proper Italian, you laugh—you wish to speak like +Sabetta Debernardi, and Giacomo, and the others. That is the fault to +learn by ear, instead of the books correctly. And you have not forgotten +yet!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Nina," he resumed, "I don't seem to have frightened you with the +possibility of your having to dress in the same room with two or three +chorus-girls whom you don't know; and in fact, if I happened to be +acquainted with the theatre, I dare say I could get the manager to make +sure you were to<!-- Page 43 --><span class="pagenum">{43}</span> dress along with some nice girl, who would show you +how to make-up, and all that. But you would get a very small salary to +begin with, Nina; perhaps only thirty shillings a week—and an extra +pound a week when you had to take up your under-study duties—however, +that need not trouble you, because we are old comrades, Nina, and while +you are in England my purse is yours—"</p> + +<p>She looked at him doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't understand," he said, gently. "It's only this, Nina: I +have plenty of money; if you are a good comrade and a good friend, you +will take from me what you want—always—at any moment—"</p> + +<p>The pretty, pale-olive face flushed quickly, and for a brief second she +glanced at him with grateful eyes; but it was perhaps to cover her +embarrassment that she now rose from the piano, and pretended to be +tired of the music and of these professional schemes.</p> + +<p>"It is enough of booziness," she said, lightly; "come, Leo, will you go +for a small walk?—have you time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I have time," said he, "but you must not say <i>booziness</i>, +Nina? it is <i>bizness</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Beezness!</i>—<i>beezness!</i>" she said, smiling. "It is enough of +<i>beezness</i>. You go for a walk with me—yes? How beautiful the weather!" +she continued, in a suddenly altered tone, as she looked out at the +sunlit foliage of the Green Park; and then she murmured, almost to +herself, in those soft Italian vowel sounds:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo mio, che sarei felice d'essere in campagna!"</p> + +<p>It was a kind of sigh; perhaps that was the reason she had inadvertently +relapsed into her own tongue. And as they went down the stairs, and he +opened the door for her, the few words he addressed to her were also in +Italian.</p> + +<p>"The country!" he said. "We will just step across the street, Nina, and +you will find yourself in what is quite as pretty as the country at this +time of year. You may fancy yourself sitting in the Villa Reale, if you +could only have a flash of blue sea underneath the branches of the +trees."</p> + +<p>But when they had crossed over and got into the comparative quiet of the +Park, she resolutely returned to her English again; and now she was +telling him about the people in Naples<!-- Page 44 --><span class="pagenum">{44}</span> whom he used to know, and of +their various fortunes and circumstances. Sometimes neither of them +spoke; for all this around them was very still and pleasant—the fresh +foliage of the trees and the long lush grass of the enclosures as yet +undimmed by the summer dust; the cool shadows thrown by the elms and +limes just moving as the wind stirred the wide branches; altogether a +world of soft, clear, sunny green, unbroken except by here and there a +small copper beech with its bronze leaves become translucent in the hot +light. It is true that the browsing sheep were abnormally black; and the +yellow-billed starlings had perhaps less sheen on their feathers than +they would have had in the country; nevertheless, for a park in the +midst of a great city this place was very quiet and beautiful and +sylvan; and indeed, when these two sat down on a couple of chairs under +a fragrant hawthorn, Nina's lustrous dark eyes became wistful and +absent, and she said,</p> + +<p>"Yes, Leo, it is as you say in the house—it all appears a dream."</p> + +<p>"What appears like a dream to you?" her companion asked.</p> + +<p>"To be in London, sitting with you, Leo, and hearing you speak," she +answered, in a low voice. "Often I think of it—often I think of +London—wondering what it is like—and I ask myself, 'Will Leo be the +same after his great renown? Are we friends as before?' and now I am +here, and London is not dark and terrible with smoke, but we sit in +gardens—oh, very beautiful!—and Leo is talking just as in the old +way—perhaps it is a dream?" she continued, looking up with a smile. +"Perhaps I wake soon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it isn't a dream, Nina," said he, "only it might pass for one, +for you haven't told me how you managed to get here. It is all a mystery +to me. Where are you staying, for example?"</p> + +<p>"My lodging?" she said. "I have an apartment in the Restaurant +Gianuzzi."</p> + +<p>"Where is that?"</p> + +<p>"Rupert Street," she answered, with a valiant effort at the proper +pronunciation.</p> + +<p>"My goodness! what are you doing, Nina?" he said, almost angrily. +"Living by yourself in a foreign restaurant, in the neighborhood of +Leicester Square! You'll have to come out of that at once!"<!-- Page 45 --><span class="pagenum">{45}</span></p> + +<p>"You must not scold me, Leo," she said, in rather a hurt way. "How am I +to know?"</p> + +<p>"I am not scolding you," he said (indeed, he knew better than to do +that; if once the notion had got into her little head that he was really +upbraiding her, she would have been up and off in a moment, +proud-lipped, indignant-eyed, with a fierce wrong rankling in her heart; +and weeks it might take him to pet her into gentleness again, even if +she did not forthwith set out for the South, resolved to return to this +harsh, cold England no more). "I am not scolding you, Nina," he said, +quite gently. "Of course you didn't know. And of course you were +attracted by the Italian name—you thought you would feel at home—"</p> + +<p>"They are very nice people, yes, yes!" she said—and still she was +inclined to hold her head erect, and her mouth was a little proud and +offended.</p> + +<p>"Very likely indeed," he said, with great consideration, "but, you see, +Nina, a single young lady can't stay at a restaurant by herself, without +knowing some one, some one to go about with her—"</p> + +<p>"Why," she said, vehemently, almost scornfully, "you think I not know +that! An Italian girl—and not know that! Last night, hour after hour, I +sit and think, 'Oh, there is Leo singing now—if I may go to the +theatre!—to sit and hear him—and think of the old days—and perhaps to +write home to the <i>maestro</i>, and tell him of the grand fame of his +scholar.' But no. I cannot go out. There is no time yet to see about +chaperon. When it comes eleven hour, I say, 'The theatre is ceased;' and +I go to bed. Then this morning I know no person; I say, 'Very well, I go +and see Leo; he will understand;' it is how I meet him in the Chiaja, and +he says, 'Good-morning, Nina; shall we go for a little walk out to +Pozzuoli'—it is just the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand well enough, Nina," said he, good-naturedly, "and I +wasn't scolding you when I said you must get some better place to stay +at while you are in London. Well, now, I am going to tell you something. +I don't know much about what actors and actresses are in Italy, but here +in England they are exceedingly generous to any of their number who have +fallen into misfortune; and a case of the kind happened a little while +ago. An actor, who used to be well known, died quite suddenly and left +his widow entirely unprovided for; whereupon there<!-- Page 46 --><span class="pagenum">{46}</span> was a subscription +got up for her, and a morning performance, too, in which nearly all the +leading actors and actresses managed to do something or other; and the +result is that they have been able to take the lease of a house in +Sloane Street, and furnish the rooms for her, and she is to earn her +living by keeping lodgers. Now, if you really want to remain in London, +Nina, don't you think that might be a comfortable home for you? She is a +very nice, ladylike little woman; and she's a great friend of mine, too; +she would do everything she could for you. There's a chaperon for you +ready-made!—for I'm afraid she has only one lodger to look after as +yet, though she has all the necessary servants, and the establishment is +quite complete. What do you say to that, Nina?"</p> + +<p>Her face had brightened up wonderfully at this proposal.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes, Leo!" she said, instantly. "Tell me how I go, and I go +at once, to ask her if she can give me apartments."</p> + +<p>He glanced at his watch.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," said he, slowly, "I was to have lunched with a very small +party to-day—at a duchess's house—at a duchess's house, think of that, +Nina!"</p> + +<p>She jumped to her feet at once, and frankly held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Leo!—I retard you—I did not know."</p> + +<p>"Don't be in such a hurry, Nina," he said, as he also rose. "I'm going +to break the appointment, that's all about it; Signorina Antonia Rossi +doesn't arrive in England every day. I'll tell you what we have got to +do: we will get into a hansom and drive to a telegraph-office, and I'll +get rid of that engagement; then we'll go on to the Restaurant Gianuzzi, +and you and I will have a little luncheon by ourselves, just to prepare +us for the fatigues of the day; then you will get your things ready, and +I will take you down to Mrs. Grey's in Sloane Street, and introduce you +to that most estimable little lady; and then, if Mrs. Grey happens to be +disengaged for the evening, she might be induced to come with you to the +New Theatre, and she could take you safe home after the performance. How +will that do, Nina?"</p> + +<p>"You always were kind to me, Leo," she said—though the gratitude +plainly shining in the gentle, dark eyes rendered the words quite +unnecessary.<!-- Page 47 --><span class="pagenum">{47}</span></p> + +<p>And indeed she was delighted, with a sort of childish delight, to sit in +this swift hansom, bowling along the smooth thoroughfare; and she +chatted and chattered in her gay, rapid, disconnected fashion; and she +had nothing but contempt for the shabby Neapolitan fiacre and the +jolting streets that Leo of course remembered; and when at last she +found herself and her companion of old days seated at a small, clean, +bright window-table in the Restaurant Gianuzzi—they being the only +occupants of the long saloon—she fairly clapped her little hands +together in her gladness. And then how pretty she looked! She had +removed her bonnet; and the light from the window, falling on the +magnificent masses of her jet-black hair gave it almost a blue sheen in +places; while here and there—about the wax-like ear, for example, a +tiny ringlet had got astray, and its soft darkness against the olive +complexion seemed to heighten the clear, pure pallor of the oval cheek. +And now all doubts as to how Leo might receive her had fled from her +mind; they were on the old, familiar terms again; and she followed with +an eager and joyous interest all that he had to say to her. Then how +easily could she accentuate her sympathetic listening with this +expressive face! The mobile, somewhat large, beautifully formed mouth, +the piquant little nose with its sensitive nostrils, the eloquent dark +eyes could just say anything she pleased; though, to be sure, however +varying her mood might be, in accordance with what she heard and what +was demanded of her, her normal expression was one of an almost childish +and happy content. She poured her glass of Chianti into a tumbler, and +filled that up with water, and sipped it as a canary sips. She made +little pellets of bread with her dainty white fingers—but that was in +forgetfulness—that was in her eagerness of listening. And at last she +said,</p> + +<p>"What is it, Leo?—you wish to frighten me with your trials?—no! for +now you laugh at all these—these mortifications. Then a man is +proud—he is sensitive—he is not patient as a woman—oh, you think you +frighten me?—no, no!"</p> + +<p>The fact is, he began to see more and more clearly that she was resolved +upon trying her fortune on the lyric stage; and he thought it his duty +to let her know very distinctly what she would have to encounter. He did +not exactly try to dissuade her; but he gave her a general idea of what +she might expect,<!-- Page 48 --><span class="pagenum">{48}</span> and that in not too roseate colors. His chief +difficulty, however, was this: he was possessed by a vague feeling that +there might be some awkwardness in having Antonia Rossi engaged at the +same theatre with himself; and yet, looking round all the light operas +then being performed, he had honestly to confess that the only part Nina +could aspire to take, with her present imperfect pronunciation of +English, was that of the young French officer played at the New Theatre +by Mlle. Girond. Nor did it lessen his embarrassment to find, as soon as +he mentioned this possibility, that to join the New Theatre was +precisely what Signorina Rossi desired.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there would be much difficulty about it, Nina," he was +forced to admit—carefully concealing his reluctance the while. +"Lehmann, that is our manager, is talking about getting up a second +travelling company, for the opera is so popular everywhere; and there is +to be a series of rehearsals of under-studies beginning next Monday, and +you could see all the coaching going on. Then you could sit in front at +night, and watch Mlle. Girond's 'business:' how would you like that, +Nina?—whether what she does is clever or stupid, you would have to copy +it? the public would expect that—"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Nina said, with a pleasant smile. "Why not? I learn. She +knows more; why I not learn?"</p> + +<p>"It's a shame to throw away a fine voice like yours on a small part in +comic opera," he said—still with vague dreams before him of a +concert-room career for her.</p> + +<p>"But I must begin," said she, with much practical common-sense, "and +while I am in the small part, I learn to act, I learn the stage-affair, +I learn better English, to the end of having a place more important. +Why, Leo, you are too careful of me! At Naples I work hard, I am a slave +to old Pandiani—I suffer everything—can I not work hard here in +London? You think I am an infant? Certainly I am not—no, no—I am +old—old—"</p> + +<p>"But light-hearted still, Nina," he said, for she was clearly bent on +laughing away his fears. Then he looked at her, with a little +hesitation. "There's another thing, Nina? about the costume."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she asked, innocently.</p> + +<p>"I don't know—whether you would quite like—but I'll show you Mlle. +Girond's dress anyway—then you can judge for yourself,"<!-- Page 49 --><span class="pagenum">{49}</span> said he. He +called the waiter. He scribbled on a piece of paper, "Photograph of +Mlle. Girond as Capitaine Crépin in 'The Squire's Daughter.'" "Send +round to some stationer's shop, will you, and get me that?"</p> + +<p>When the messenger returned with the photograph, Lionel, rather timidly, +put it before her; but, indeed, there was nothing in the costume of +Mlle. Girond to startle any one—the uniform of the boy-officer was so +obviously a compromise. Nina glanced at it thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, Leo," she said, looking up, "you see no harm?"</p> + +<p>"Harm?" said he, boldly taking up his cue, "of course not! It isn't like +any uniform that ever was known; I suppose it's Mlle. Girond's own +invention; but, at all events, there's nothing to prevent any modest +girl wearing it. Why, I know more than one fashionable lady who would +think nothing of appearing as Rosalind—and Rosalind's is a real boy's +dress, or ought to be—and then they haven't the excuse that an actor or +actress has, that it is a necessity of one's profession. However, +there's nothing to be said about that costume, anyway; I really had +forgotten that Mlle. Girond had got her pretty little blue coat made +with so long a skirt. Besides, Nina, with a voice like yours, you will +soon be beyond having to take parts like that."</p> + +<p>Indeed, she was so evidently anxious to obtain an engagement in the same +theatre that he himself was engaged in that his vague reluctance +ultimately vanished; and he began considering when he could bring her +before Mr. Lehmann, the manager, and Mr. Carey, the musical conductor, +so that they should hear her sing. As to their verdict, as to what the +manager would do, he had no doubt whatever. She had a valuable voice, +and her ignorance of stage requirements would speedily disappear. At the +very time that Lehmann was trying to get new under-studies with a view +to the formation of a second travelling company, why, here was a perfect +treasure discovered for him. And Lionel made certain that, as soon as +Antonia Rossi had had time to study Mlle. Girond's "business," and +perhaps one or two chances of actually playing the part, she would be +drafted into one or other of the travelling companies, and sent away +through the provinces; so that any awkwardness arising from her being in +the same theatre with himself, and he her only friend in England, to +whom she would naturally appeal in any emergency, would thus be +obviated.<!-- Page 50 --><span class="pagenum">{50}</span></p> + +<p>"Nina," said he, as they were driving in a hansom to Sloane Street (all +her belongings being on the top of the cab), "Lehmann, our manager, is +to be at the theatre this afternoon, about some scenery, I fancy, and +there's a chance of our catching him if we went down some little time +before the performance. Would you come along and sing one or two things? +you might have the arrangement made at once."</p> + +<p>"Will you go with me, Leo?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he said, "I mean Mrs. Grey will take you, you know; for I +will try to get places for her and you in front afterwards; but I will +go with you as well. You won't be afraid?"</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"Afraid?—no, no—what I can do I can do—there is no Pandiani to scold +me if they not satisfied—that is my own <i>beezness</i>—is it right?—oh, I +say to you, Leo, if you hear Pandiani when I refuse to go to Malta—you +think you know the Neapolitan deealet—dialect?—no, it is not good for +you to know all the wicked words of Naples—and he is old and +evil-tempered—it is no matter. But in this theatre there is no Pandiani +and his curses—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, not curses, Nina," he said. "I see old Debernardi has taught +you some strange English. Of course the <i>maestro</i> did not use curses to +his favorite pupil—oh, yes, you were, Nina, a great favorite, though he +was always grumbling and growling. However, remember this, Nina, you +must sing your best this evening, and impress them; and I shouldn't +wonder if Lehmann gave you exceptional terms."</p> + +<p>"More <i>beezness</i>?" she said, with a smile that showed a gleam of her +pretty teeth; the sound of the word had tickled her ear, somehow; more +than once, as the cab rolled away down Kensingtonwards, he could hear +her repeat to herself—"<i>beezness!</i> <i>beezness!</i>"</p> + +<p>This young Italian lady seemed to produce a most favorable impression on +the little, pale-faced widow, who appeared to be very grateful to Lionel +Moore for having thought of her. The ground-floor sitting-room and +bedroom, she explained, were occupied by her sole lodger; the young lady +could have the choice of any of the apartments above. The young lady, as +it turned out, was startled beyond measure at the price she was asked to +pay (which, in truth, was quite moderate, for the rooms were<!-- Page 51 --><span class="pagenum">{51}</span> good +rooms, in a good situation, and neatly furnished), and it was only on +Lionel's insisting on it that she consented to take the apartments on +the second floor.</p> + +<p>"I beg you not miscomprehend," Nina said, somewhat earnestly, to the +little landlady (for was she not a friend of Leo's?). "The price is, +perhaps, not too large—it is to me that it is large—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, Nina," Lionel broke in; "that's all settled. You +see, Mrs. Grey, Miss Rossi has come over here to get an engagement in +comedy opera, or perhaps to sing at concerts; and if a manager calls to +see her on business, why, of course, she must be in decent rooms. You +can't go and live in a slum. Mrs. Grey knows what managers are, Nina; +you must take up a good position and hold your own; and—and, in fact, +Nina, when you are in London you can't afford to go and climb those +frightful Neapolitan stairs and hide yourself in a garret. So it's +settled; and I'm going out directly to hire a piano for you."</p> + +<p>"For how much expense, Leo?" she said, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll see about that by and by," said he.</p> + +<p>He then explained to Mrs. Grey that Miss Nina was that very evening +going along to the New Theatre to be heard by the manager and the +conductor; that thereafter she wished to see the performance of "The +Squire's Daughter," in which she hoped ere long to take a part herself; +and that, if Mrs. Grey could find it convenient to accompany the young +lady, it would be a very great obligation to him, Mr. Moore. Mrs. Grey +replied to this that her solitary lodger had gone down to Richmond for +two or three days; she herself had no engagement of any kind for that +evening; and when, she asked, did any one ever hear of an old actress +refusing an invitation to go to the theatre?</p> + +<p>"So that's all settled, too," said this young man, who seemed to be +carrying everything his own way.</p> + +<p>Then he went out and hired a piano—necessarily a small upright—which +was to be taken down to Sloane Street that same evening; next he sought +out a telegraph-office, and sent a message to Mr. Lehmann and to Mr. +Carey; finally he called at a florist's, and bought a whole heap of +flowers for the better decoration of Signorina Rossi's new apartments. +In this last affair he was really outrageously extravagant, even for one +who was habitually careless about his expenditure; but he said to +himself,<!-- Page 52 --><span class="pagenum">{52}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, I throw away lots of money in compliments to people who are quite +indifferent to me; and why shouldn't I allow myself a little latitude +when it is my old comrade Nina who has come over to England?"</p> + +<p>When at length he got back to the house he found it would soon be time +for them to be thinking of getting down to the theatre; so he said,</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Mrs. Grey, when Miss Nina has done with her singing and +her talk with the manager, you must take her to some restaurant and get +some dinner for both of you, for you can't go on without anything until +eleven. You will just have time before the performance begins. I'm sorry +I can't take you; but, you see, as soon as I hear what the manager says, +I must be off to dress for my part. Then, at the end of the performance, +I can't ask you to wait for me; you will have to bring her home, either +in a cab or by the Underground, for Nina is very economical. I hope you +won't think I am treating you ill in leaving you to yourselves—"</p> + +<p>"Why, Leo, you have given up the whole day to me!" Nina exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"You gave up many an afternoon to me, Nina," he rejoined, "when I +sprained my ankle down at that confounded Castello Dell' Ovo."</p> + +<p>The ordeal that the <i>débutante</i> had now to undergo was, of course, made +remarkably easy for her through the intervention of this good friend of +hers. When they got down to the theatre they went at once on to the +stage, where Nina found herself in the midst of an old-fashioned English +village, with a gayly bedecked Maypole just behind her, while in front +of her was the great, gaunt, empty, musty-smelling building, filled with +a dim twilight, though, also, there were here and there one or two +orange-points of gas. Lionel sent a messenger to the manager's office, +and also told him to ask if Mr. Carey had come; then he opened Nina's +roll of music for her, and began to discuss with her which piece she +should choose. Fortunately Mr. Lehmann had not yet left—here he was—a +stout, clean-shaven, sharp-eyed sort of person, in a frock-coat and a +remarkably shiny hat; he glanced at the young lady in what she +considered a very rude and unwarrantable manner, but the fact was he was +merely, from a business point of view, trying to guess what her figure +was<!-- Page 53 --><span class="pagenum">{53}</span> like. Lionel explained all the circumstances of the case to him, +and gave it as his own confident opinion that, as soon as they had heard +Mlle. Rossi sing, there would be little doubt of her being engaged. At +the same moment Mr. Carey appeared—a tall, blond, extremely handsome +person of the fashion-plate sort; and, at a word from the manager, two +or three scene-shifters went and wheeled on to the stage a small upright +piano.</p> + +<p>Nina did not seem at all disconcerted by their business-like air and +want of little formal politenesses. Quite calmly she took out "Caro nome +" from her music and handed it to the conductor, who was at the piano. +He glanced at the sheet, appeared a little surprised, but struck the +opening chords for her. Then Nina sang; and though for a second or two +the sound of her own voice in this huge, empty building seemed +strange—seemed wrong almost and unnatural—she had speedily recovered +confidence, and was determined she would bring no discredit upon her +friend Leo. Very well indeed she sang, and Lionel was delighted; while, +of course, Mr. Carey was professionally interested in hearing for the +first time a voice so fresh and pure and so perfectly trained; but when +she had finished the manager merely said,</p> + +<p>"Thank you, that will do; I needn't trouble you further." Then, after a +word or two, partly aside, with Mr. Carey, he turned to Lionel and +abruptly asked what salary she wanted—just as if Lionel had brought him +some automaton and made it work.</p> + +<p>"I think you ought to give her a very good salary," the young man said, +in an undertone; "she has studied under Pandiani at Naples. And if I +were you I wouldn't ask her to sing in the chorus at all; I would rather +keep a voice like that fresh and unworked until she is fit to take a +part."</p> + +<p>"Singing in the chorus won't hurt her," said he, briefly, "for a while, +at least, and she'll become familiar with the stage."</p> + +<p>But here Lionel drew the manager still further aside; and then ensued a +conversation which neither Nina nor Mr. Carey could in the least +overhear. At the end of it Mr. Lehmann nodded acquiescence, and said, +"Very well, then;" and straightway he departed, for he was a busy man, +and had little time to waste on the smaller courtesies of +life—especially in the case of <i>débutantes</i>.</p> + +<p>Lionel returned to the young lady whose fate had just been decided.<!-- Page 54 --><span class="pagenum">{54}</span></p> + +<p>"That's all right, Nina," he said. "You are engaged as under-study to +Mlle. Girond, and you'll have three pounds a week as soon as you have +studied her business and are ready to take the part when you're wanted. +I will find you a full score, and you may get up some of the other +music, when you've nothing better to do. The rehearsals of the +under-studies begin on Monday—but I'll see you before then and let you +know all about it. You won't mind my running away?—I'm on in the first +scene. There is Mrs. Grey waiting for you—you must go and get something +to eat—and when you come back, call at the stage-door, and you'll find +an envelope waiting for you, with two places in it—the dress circle, if +it can be managed, for I want you to be some distance away from the +orchestra. Good-bye, Nina!"</p> + +<p>She held his hand for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Leo, I thank you," she said, regarding him with her dark eyes; and then +he smiled and waved another farewell to her as he disappeared; and she +was left to make her way with her patient chaperon out of this great, +hollow, portentous building, that was now resounding with mysterious +clankings and calls.</p> + +<p>And it was from a couple of seats in the back of the dress-circle that +Mrs. Grey and her young charge heard the comedy-opera of "The Squire's +Daughter;" and Lionel knew they were there; and no doubt he sang his +best—for, if Nina had been showing off what she could do in the +morning, why should he not show off now, amid all these added glories of +picturesque costumes and surroundings? Nina was in an extraordinary +state of excitement, which she was unable altogether to conceal. Mrs. +Grey could hear the little, muttered exclamations in Italian; she could +see how intently that expressive face followed the progress of the +piece, reflecting its every movement, as it were; she caught a glimpse +of tears on the long, dark lashes when Lionel was singing, with +impassioned fervor, his love-lorn serenade; and then the next moment she +was astonished by the vehemence of the girl's delight when the vast +house thundered forth its applause—indeed, Nina herself was clapping +her hands furiously, to join in the universal roar of a recall—she was +laughing with joy—she appeared to have gone mad. Then, at the end of +the second act, she said, quickly,</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Grey, can I send to him a note?—is there letter-paper?"<!-- Page 55 --><span class="pagenum">{55}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, if we go into the refreshment-room and have a cup of +tea, perhaps one of the young ladies could give us a sheet of +writing-paper."</p> + +<p>And thus it was that Lionel, when he was leaving the theatre that night, +found a neatly folded little note awaiting him. He was in a considerable +hurry; for he had to go home and dress and get off to a crush in +Grosvenor Square, where he hoped to find Lady Adela Cunyngham, her +sisters, and Miss Georgie Lestrange (there was some talk of an immediate +presentation of the little pastoral comedy), so that he had only time to +glance over Nina's nervously pencilled scrawl. Thus it ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Leo, it is magnificent, it is splendid, you are a true artist; + to-morrow I write to Pandiani, he will be overjoyed as I am. But + Miss Burgoyne—<i>no, no, no</i>—she is not artist at all—she is + negligent of her part, of the others in the scene—she puts up her + fan and talks to you from behind it—why you allow that?—it is + insult to the public! She <i>believes</i> not her part and makes all the + rest false. What a shame to you, Leo; but your splendid voice, your + fine timbre, carries everything! Bravo, my Leo! It is a great + trionf, brilliant, beautiful, and Nina is proud of her friend. + Good-night from</p> + +<span class="tablenum">"<span class="sc">Nina.</span>"</span><p> </p></div> + +<p>As Lionel was spinning along Piccadilly in his swift hansom, it occurred +to him that if Nina were going to join the "Squire's Daughter" company, +it might be just as well for her not to have any preconceived antipathy +against Miss Burgoyne. For Miss Burgoyne was an important person at the +New Theatre.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h4>COUNTRY AND TOWN.</h4> + + +<p>On this Sunday morning, when all the good people had gone to church, +there was no sign of life on these far-stretching Winstead Downs. The +yellow roads intersecting the undulations of black-and-golden gorse were +undisturbed by even a solitary tramp; so that Lionel Moore and his +friend Mangan, as they idly walked along, seemed to be the sole +possessors of the spacious landscape. It was a beautiful morning, warm +and clear and sunny; a southerly breeze stirred the adjacent elms into a +noise as of the sea, caused the chestnuts to wave their great branches +bearing thousands of milky minarets, and sent waves<!-- Page 56 --><span class="pagenum">{56}</span> of shadows across +the silken gray-green of a field of rye. There was a windmill on a +distant height, its long arms motionless. A strip of Scotch firs stood +black and near at one portion of the horizon; but elsewhere the +successive lines of wood and hill faded away into the south, becoming of +a paler and paler hue until they disappeared in a silvery mist. The air +was sweet with the resinous scent of the furze. In short, it was a +perfect day in early June, on a wide, untenanted, high-lying Surrey +common.</p> + +<p>And Maurice Mangan, in his aimless, desultory fashion, was inveighing +against the vanity of the life led by certain classes in the great +Babylon out of which he had just haled his rather unwilling friend; and +describing their mad and frantic efforts to wrest themselves free of the +demon <i>ennui</i>; and their ceaseless, eager clamor for hurry and +excitement, lest, in some unguarded moment of silence, their souls +should speak.</p> + +<p>"It is quite a fallacy," he was saying, as he walked carelessly onwards, +his head thrown forward a little, his hands clasped behind his back, his +stick trailing after him, "it is altogether a fallacy to talk of the +'complaining millions of men' who 'darken in labor and pain.' It is the +hard-working millions of mankind who are the happiest; their constant +labor brings content; the riddle of the painful earth doesn't vex +them—they have no leisure; they don't fear the hour of sleep—they +welcome it. It is the rich, who find time drag remorselessly on their +hands, who have desperately to invent occupations and a whirl of +amusements, who keep pursuing shadows they can never lay hold of, who +are really in a piteous case; and I suppose you take credit to yourself, +Linn, my boy, that you are one of the distractions that help them to +lighten the unbearable weariness of their life. Well," he continued, in +his rambling way, "it isn't quite what I had looked forward to; I had +looked forward to something different for you. I can remember, when we +used to have our long Sunday walks in those days, what splendid +ambitions you had for yourself, and how you were all burning to +begin—the organist of Winstead Church was to produce his Hallelujah +Chorus, and the nations were to listen; and the other night, when I was +in your room at the theatre, when I saw you smearing your face and +decking yourself out for exhibition before a lot of fashionable idlers, +I could not help saying to myself, 'And this is what Linn Moore has come +to!'"<!-- Page 57 --><span class="pagenum">{57}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, that is what Linn Moore has come to," the other said, with entire +good-nature. "And what has Maurice Mangan come to? I can remember when +Maurice Mangan was to be a great poet, a great metaphysician, a great—I +don't know what. Winstead was far too small a place for him; he was to +go up and conquer London, and do great and wonderful things. And what is +he now?—a reporter of the gabble of the House of Commons."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I am a failure," said this tall, thin, contemplative-looking +man, who spoke quite dispassionately of himself, just as he spoke with a +transparent honesty and simplicity of his friend. "But at least I have +kept myself to myself. I haven't sold myself over to the Moloch of +fashion—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, your dislike of fashionable people is a mere bundle of prejudice!" +Lionel cried. "The truth is, Maurice, you don't know those fashionable +people you seem to despise so heartily. If you did, you would discover +that they had the ordinary human qualities of other people—only that +they are better educated and more courteous and pleasant in manner. Then +their benevolence—if you knew how much they give away in charity—"</p> + +<p>"Benevolence!" Mangan broke in, impatiently. "What is benevolence? It is +generally nothing more or less than an expression of your own +satisfaction with yourself. You are stuffed with food and wine; your +purse is gorged; 'here's a handful of sovereigns for you, you poor devil +crouching at the corner!' What merit is in that? Do you call that a +virtue? But where charity really becomes a heroism, Linn, is when a +poor, suffering, neuralgic woman, without any impulse from abundance of +health or abundance of comfort, sets laboriously to work to do what she +can for her fellow-creatures. Then that is something to regard—that is +something to admire—"</p> + +<p>Lionel burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"A very pretty description of Francie Wright!" he cried. "Francie a +poor, suffering, wretched woman—because she happened to have a touch of +neuralgia the last Sunday you were down here! There's very little of the +poor and suffering about Francie; she's as contented and merry a lass as +you'd find anywhere."</p> + +<p>Mangan was silent for a second or two; and then he said, with a little +hesitation,<!-- Page 58 --><span class="pagenum">{58}</span></p> + +<p>"Didn't you tell me Miss Wright had not been up yet to see 'The Squire's +Daughter?'"</p> + +<p>"No, she has not," Lionel answered, lightly. "I don't know whether you +have been influencing her, Maurice, or whether you have picked up some +of her highly superior prejudices; anyhow, I rather fancy she doesn't +quite approve of the theatre—I mean, I don't think she approves of the +New Theatre, for she'd go to any other one fast enough, I suppose, if +you could only get her away from her sick children. But not the New +Theatre, apparently. Perhaps she doesn't care to see me making myself a +motley to the view."</p> + +<p>"She has a great regard for you, Linn. I wouldn't call her opinions +prejudices," Mangan said—but with the curious diffidence he displayed +whenever he spoke of Lionel's cousin.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Francie should have lived in the fifteenth century—she would have +been a follower of Savonarola," Lionel said, with a laugh. "She's far +too exalted for these present days."</p> + +<p>"Well, Linn," said his friend, "I'm glad you know at least one person +who has some notion of duty and self-sacrifice, who has some fineness of +perception and some standard of conduct and aim to go by. Why, those +people you associate so much with now seem to have but one pursuit—the +pursuit of pleasure, the gratification of every selfish whim; they seem +to have no consciousness of the mystery surrounding life—of the fact +that they themselves are inexplicable phantoms whose very existence +might make them pause and wonder and question. No, it is the amassing of +wealth, and the expending of it, that is all sufficient. I used to +wonder why God should have chosen the Jews, of all the nations of the +earth, for the revelation that there was something nobler than the +acquisition of riches; but I suppose it was because no race ever needed +it so much. And what new revelation—what new message is coming to the +multitudes here in England who are living in a paradise of sensual +gratification, blinded, besotted, their world a sort of gorgeous +pig-stye—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," Lionel said, cheerfully. "Octavius Quirk has +settled all that. The cure for everything is to be a blowing of the +whole social fabric to bits. Then we're going to begin again all over; +and the New Jerusalem will be reached when each man has to dig for his +own potatoes."</p> + +<p>"Quirk!" said Maurice Mangan, contemptuously; and then<!-- Page 59 --><span class="pagenum">{59}</span> he took out his +watch. "We'd better be getting back, Linn. We'll just be in time to meet +your people coming out of church."</p> + +<p>So they turned and walked leisurely across the gorse-covered downs until +they reached the broad and dusty highway leading towards Winstead +village. And then again they struck into a by-lane with tall hedges, the +banks underneath which were bright with stitchwort and speedwell and +white dead-nettle. Now and again, through a gap or a gate, they caught a +glimpse of the lush meadows golden with buttercups; in one of them there +was a small black pony standing in the shadow of a wide-spreading elm. +They passed some cottages with pretty gardens in front; they stopped for +a second to look at the old-fashioned columbine and monkshood, the +none-so-pretty, the yellow and crimson wall-flower, the peony roses. +Then always around them was this gracious silence, which seemed so +strange after the roar of London; and if the day promised to become +still hotter, at least they had this welcome breeze, that rustled the +quick-glancing poplars, and stirred the white-laden hawthorns, and kept +the long branches of the wych-elms and chestnuts swaying hither and +thither. They were not talking much now; one of them was thinking of a +pair of gray eyes.</p> + +<p>At last they came to a turnstile, and, passing through that, found +themselves in one of those wide meadows; at the farther side of it the +red-tiled roof, the gray belfry, and slated spire of Winstead Church +just showed above the masses of green foliage. They crossed the meadow +and entered the churchyard. A perfect silence reigned over the place; +they could not hear what was going on within the small building; out +here there was no sound save the chirping of the birds and the +continuous murmur of the trees. They walked about, looking thoughtfully +at the gravestones—many of them bearing names familiar enough to them +in bygone years. And perhaps one or other of them may have been fancying +that when the great, busy world had done with him—and used him up and +thrown him aside—here at least there would be peace preserved for +him—an ample sufficiency of rest under this greensward, with perhaps a +few flowers put there by some kindly hand. The dead did not seem to need +much pity on this tranquil day.</p> + +<p>Then into this universal silence came suddenly a low, booming sound that +caused Lionel Moore's heart to stand still: it<!-- Page 60 --><span class="pagenum">{60}</span> was the church +organ—that awakened a multitude of associations and recollections, that +seemed to summon up the vanished years and the dreams of his youth, when +it was he himself who used to sit at the instrument and call forth those +massive chords and solemn tones. Something of his boyhood came back to +him; he seemed again to be looking forward to an unknown future; +wondering and eager, he painted visions; and always in them, to share +his greatness and his fame, there was some radiant creature, +smiling-eyed, who would be at his side in sorrow and in joy, through the +pain of striving and in the rapture of triumph. And now—now that the +years had developed themselves—what had become of these wistful hopes +and forecasts? Boyish nonsense, he would have said (except just at such +a moment as this, when the sudden sound of the organ seemed to call back +so much). He had encountered the realities of life since then; he had +chosen his profession; he had studied hard; he had achieved a measure of +fame. And the beautiful and wonderful being who was to share his +triumphs with him? Well, he had never actually beheld her. A glimmer +here and there, in a face or a form, had taken his fancy captive more +than once; but he remained heart-whole; he was too much occupied, he +laughingly assured Maurice Mangan again and again, to have the chance of +falling in love.</p> + +<p>"Getting married?" he would say. "My dear fellow, I haven't time; I'm +far too busy to think of getting married."</p> + +<p>So the radiant bride had never been found, even as the new Hallelujah +Chorus that was to thrill the hearts of millions had never been written; +and Linn Moore had to be content with the very pronounced success he had +attained in playing in comic opera, and with a popularity in the +fashionable world of London, especially among the women-folk therein, +that would have turned many a young fellow's head.</p> + +<p>When they thought the service was about over they went round to the +porch and awaited the coming out of the congregation. And among the +first to make their appearance—issuing from the dusky little building +into this bewilderment of white light and green leaves—were old Dr. +Moore and his wife, and Miss Francie Wright, who passed for Lionel's +cousin, though the relationship was somewhat more remote than that. +Maurice Mangan received a very hearty welcome from these good people;<!-- Page 61 --><span class="pagenum">{61}</span> +and then, as they set out for home, Lionel walked on with his father and +mother, while Lionel's friend naturally followed with the young lady. +She was not a distinctly beautiful person, perhaps, this slim-figured +young woman, with the somewhat pale face, the high-arched eyebrows, and +light-brown hair; but at least she had extremely pretty gray eyes, that +had a touch of shrewdness and humor in them, as well as plenty of +gentleness and womanliness; and she had a soft and attractive voice, +which goes for much.</p> + +<p>"It is so kind of you, Mr. Mangan," said she, in that soft and winning +voice, "to bring Linn down. You know he won't come down by himself; and +who can wonder at it? It is so dull and monotonous for him here, after +the gay life he leads in London."</p> + +<p>"Dull and monotonous!" he exclaimed. "Why, I have been preaching to him +all the morning that he should be delighted to come down into the +quietude of the country, as a sort of moral bath after the insensate +racket of that London whirl. But no one ever knows how well off he is," +he continued, as they walked along between the fragrant hawthorn hedges; +"it's the lookers-on who know. Good gracious, what wouldn't I give to be +in Linn's place!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean in London, Mr. Mangan?" she asked, and for an instant the +pretty gray eyes looked up.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" he said, with unnecessary warmth. "I mean here. If I +could run down of a Sunday to a beautiful, quiet, old-fashioned place +like this, and find myself in my own home, among my own people, I wonder +how many Sundays would find me in London? You can't imagine, you have no +idea, what it is to live quite alone in London, with no one to turn to +but club acquaintances; and I think Sunday is the worst day of all, +especially if it is fine weather, and all the people have gone to the +country or the seaside to spend the day with their friends."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Mangan," said Miss Francie Wright, gently, "I am sure, +whenever you have a Sunday free like that, we should be only too glad if +you would consider us your friends—unless you think the place too +dreadfully tedious, as I'm afraid my cousin finds it."</p> + +<p>"It is very kind of you—very," said he. "And I know the old doctor and +Mrs. Moore like to see me well enough, for I<!-- Page 62 --><span class="pagenum">{62}</span> bring down their boy to +them; but if I came by myself, I'm afraid they wouldn't care to have an +idling, dawdling fellow like me lounging about the place of a Sunday +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Will you come and try, Mr. Mangan?" said she, quietly. "For Linn's sake +alone I know they would be delighted to have you here. And if it is rest +and quiet you want, can't we give you the garden and a book?"</p> + +<p>"You mustn't put such visions before me," he said. "It's too good to be +true. I should be sighing for Paradise all through the week and +forgetting my work. And shouldn't I hate to wake up on Monday morning +and find myself in London!"</p> + +<p>"You might wake up on Monday morning, and find yourself in Winstead," +said she, "if you would take Linn's room for the night."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no," he said, "it isn't for the like of me to try to take Linn's +place in any way whatever. He has always had everything—everything +seemed to come to him by natural right; and then he has always been such +a capital fellow, so modest and unaffected and generous, that nobody +could ever grudge him his good-fortune. Prince Fortunatus he always has +been."</p> + +<p>"In what way, Mr. Mangan?" his companion asked, rather wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"In every way. People are fond of him; he wins affection without trying +for it; as I say, it all comes to him as if by natural right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they say he is very popular in London, among those fine folk," +observed Miss Francie, quite good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wasn't thinking of his fashionable friends," Mangan rejoined. +"Being made much of by those people doesn't seem to me one of the great +gifts of fortune. And yet I wonder it hasn't spoiled him. He doesn't +seem the least bit spoiled, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Really, I see so little of him," Miss Francie said, with a smile, "he +honors us with so few visits, that I can hardly tell."</p> + +<p>"No, he is not spoiled—you may take my word for it," her companion +said, with decision. And then he added, "I suppose he gets too much of +that petting; he is kept in such a turmoil of gayety that its evil +effects have no time to sink into him. He is too busy—as he said this +morning about marrying."</p> + +<p>"What was that, Mr. Mangan?" she asked.<!-- Page 63 --><span class="pagenum">{63}</span></p> + +<p>"He said he was too busy to think of getting married."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed?" she said, with her eyes directed towards the ground. +"We—we have always been expecting to hear of his being engaged to some +young lady—seeing he is made so much of in London—" She could say no +more, for now they were arrived at the doctor's house, which was +separated from the highway by a little strip of front garden. They +passed in through the gate and found the door left open for them.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Savonarola," said Lionel, as he hung up his hat in the hall +and turned to address her, "how have you been all this time?"</p> + +<p>"I have been very well, Mr. Pagan," said she, smiling.</p> + +<p>"And how are all those juvenile Londoners that you've planted about in +the cottages?"</p> + +<p>"They're getting on nicely, every one of them," said she, with quite an +air of pride; and then she added, "When is your Munificence going to +give me another subscription?"</p> + +<p>"Just now, Francie," was the instant reply. "How much do you want?"</p> + +<p>"As much as ever you can afford," said she.</p> + +<p>He pulled from his pocket a handful of loose coin, and began to pick out +the sovereigns. But Miss Francie, with a little touch of her fingers, +put the money away.</p> + +<p>"No, Linn, not from you. You've given me too much already. You give too +freely; I like to have a little difficulty in obtaining subscriptions; +it feels nicer somehow. But if my funds should run very low, then I'll +come to you, Linn."</p> + +<p>"Whenever you like, Francie," said he, carelessly; he poured the money +into his pocket again and bade Maurice Mangan come up to his room, to +get the dust of travel removed from his hands and face before going in +to luncheon.</p> + +<p>Then while Mangan was busy with his ablutions in this small upper +chamber, Lionel drew a chair to the open window and gazed absently +abroad on the wide stretch of country visible from the doctor's house. +It was a familiar view; yet it was one not easy to get tired of; and of +course on such a morning as this it lost none of its charm. Everywhere +in the warm breeze and the sunshine there was a universal rustling and +trembling and glancing of all beautiful things—of the translucent +foliage of the limes, the pendulous blossoms of lilacs and laburnums, +the<!-- Page 64 --><span class="pagenum">{64}</span> swaying branches of the larch, and the masses of blue +forget-me-nots in the garden below. Then there were all the hushed +sounds of the country: the distant, quick footfall of a horse on some +dusty road; the warning cluck of a thrush to her young ones down there +among the bushes; the glad voices and laughter of some girls in an +adjacent garden—they, too, likely to be soon away from the maternal +nest; the crow of a cock pheasant from the margin of the wood; the +clear, ringing melody of an undiscoverable lark. Everywhere white light, +blue skies, and shadows of great clouds slow-sailing over the young +green corn and over the daisied meadows in which the cows lay +half-asleep. And when he looked beyond that low green hill, where there +were one or two hares hopping about on their ungainly high haunches, and +past that great stretch of receding country in which strips of +red-and-white villages peeped here and there from the woods, behold! a +horizon as of the sea, faint and blue and far, rising and ever rising in +various hues and tones, until it was lost in a quivering mist of heat; +and he could only guess that there, too, under the glowing sky, some +other fair expanse of our beautiful English landscape lay basking in the +sunlight and sweet air of the early summer.</p> + +<p>Of course Lionel was the hero of the hour when they were all assembled +in the dining-room—at a very sumptuously furnished board, by the way, +for the hale old doctor was fond of good living and a firm believer in +the virtues of port wine. Moreover, the young man had an attentive +audience; for the worthy old lady at the head of the table never took +her admiring eye's off this wonderful boy of hers; and Miss Francie +Wright meekly listened too; while as for Maurice Mangan, who was he in +his humble station to interrupt this marvellous tale of great doings and +festivities? Not that Lionel magnified his own share in these things; +nay, he modestly kept himself out altogether; it was merely to interest +these simple country folk that he described the grand banquets, the +illuminated gardens, the long marquees, and told them how the princess +looked, and who it was who had the honor of taking her in to supper. But +when he came, among other things, to speak of the rehearsal of the +little pastoral comedy, in the clear light of the dawn, by Lady Adela +Cunyngham and her friends, he had to admit that he himself was present +on that occasion; and at once the fond mother took him to task.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf64" id="illusf64"></a> +<img src="images/illusf64.jpg" alt=""They passed in through the gate, and found the door left open for them."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>They passed in through the gate, and found the door left open for them.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<!-- Page 65 --><p><span class="pagenum">{65}</span></p> + +<p>"It's wicked, Lionel," she said, severely; "it's downright wicked to +keep such hours. Look at the result of it all. You can't eat +anything—you're not taking a mouthful!"</p> + +<p>"But, you know, mother, I'm not used to luncheon," he said, cheerfully +enough. "I have to dine at five every day—and I've no time to bother +with luncheon, even if I could eat it."</p> + +<p>"Take a glass of port, my lad," the old doctor said. "That will put some +life into you."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," he said, indifferently, "I can't afford to play tricks. I +have to study my throat."</p> + +<p>"Why, what better astringent can you have than tannic acid?" the old +gentleman called down the table. "I suppose you drink those washy +abominations that the young men of the day prefer to honest wine; what's +that I hear about lemonade? Lemonade!" he repeated, with disgust.</p> + +<p>"It's home-brewed—it's wholesome enough; Miss Burgoyne makes some for +me when she is making it for herself," the young man said; and then he +turned to his mother: "Mother, I wish you would send her something from +the garden—"</p> + +<p>"Who, Lionel?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne—at the theatre, you know. She's very good to me—lends +me her room if I have any swell friends who want to come behind—and +makes me this lemonade, which is better than anything else on a hot +night. Couldn't you send her something from the garden?—not +flowers—she gets too many flowers, and doesn't care for them; but if +you had some early strawberries or something of that kind, she would +take them as a greater compliment, coming from you, than if some idiot +of a young fool spent guineas on them at a florist's. And when are you +coming up to see 'The Squire's Daughter,' Francie? The idea that you +should never have been near the place, when I hear people confessing to +each other that they have been to see it eight and ten, or even a dozen +times!"</p> + +<p>"But I am so busy, Lionel!" she said; and then perhaps an echo of +something that had been said in the morning may have recurred to her +mind; for she seemed a trifle confused, and kept her eyes downcast, +while Lionel went on to tell them of what certain friends of his were +going to do at Henley Regatta.</p> + +<p>After luncheon they went out into the garden, and took seats in the +shade of the lilac-trees, in the sweet air. Old Mrs. Moore<!-- Page 66 --><span class="pagenum">{66}</span> had for +form's sake brought a book with her; but she was not likely to read much +when the pride of her eyes had come down on a visit to her, and was now +talking to her, in his off-hand, light-hearted way. Maurice Mangan had +followed the doctor's example and pulled out his pipe—which he forgot +to light, however. He seemed dissatisfied. He kept looking back to the +house from time to time. Was there no one else coming out? There was the +French window of the drawing-room still open; was there no glimmer of a +gray dress anywhere—with its ornamentation of a bunch of scarlet +geraniums? At last he made bold to say to the doctor:</p> + +<p>"Where has Miss Francie gone to? Isn't she coming out too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's away after those London brats of hers, I have no doubt," the +old gentleman said. "You won't see her till teatime, if even then." +Whereupon Mangan lit his pipe, and proceeded to smoke in silence, +listening at times and absently to Lionel's vivacious talking to his +mother.</p> + +<p>In fact, before Miss Francie Wright returned that afternoon, Lionel +found that he had to take his departure, for there are no trains to +Winstead on Sunday, and he would have to walk some three miles to the +nearest station. When he declared he had to go, the old lady's protests +and entreaties were almost piteous.</p> + +<p>"You come to see us so seldom, Lionel! And of course we thought you'd +dine with us, at the very least; and if you could stay the night as +well, you know there's a room for Mr. Mangan too. And we were looking +forward to such a pleasant evening."</p> + +<p>"But I have a long-standing engagement, mother; a dinner engagement—I +could not get out of it."</p> + +<p>"And you are dragging Mr. Mangan away up to town again, on a beautiful +afternoon like this, when we know he is so fond of the country and of a +garden—"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Lionel said. "I need not spoil Maurice's day, if I have to +spoil my own; he'll stay, of course; and I suppose Francie will be back +directly."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, Mr. Mangan," the old lady said, turning at once to her other +guest, "if Lionel must really go, we shall be delighted if you will +remain and dine with us—I hope you will—and you can have Lionel's room +if you will stay the night as well."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I couldn't do that," said he, very gratefully, "but if you +will have me, I shall be very glad to stay on, and<!-- Page 67 --><span class="pagenum">{67}</span> go up by a late +train. In the meantime, I think I'll walk to the station with Linn."</p> + +<p>"And come back with a good appetite for dinner," said the doctor, +calling after him. "We'll have something better than lemonade, I warrant +ye!"</p> + +<p>They have slow trains on these Surrey lines on Sunday; by the time that +Lionel had got up to town and driven to his rooms and dressed, it was +very near the hour at which he was due at the Lansdowne Gallery, where +Lord Rockminster was giving a dinner-party, as a preliminary to the +concert and crush that were to follow. And no sooner had he alighted +from his hansom, and entered the marble vestibule of the gallery, than +whom should he descry ascending the stairs in front of him but Mr. +Octavius Quirk.</p> + +<p>"Lady Adela hasn't let the grass grow under her feet," he said to +himself. "Captured her first critic already!"</p> + +<p>Lady Adela was at the head of the stairs receiving her brother's guests; +and the greeting that she accorded to Mr. Octavius Quirk was of a most +special and gracious kind. She was very complaisant to Lionel also, and +bade him go and see if the place they had given him at dinner was to his +liking. He took this as a kind of permission to choose what he wanted +(within discreet limits); and as he just then happened to meet Miss +Georgie Lestrange, he proposed to that smiling and ruddy-haired damsel +that they should go and examine for themselves—and perhaps alter the +dispositions a little. So they passed away through those brilliantly lit +galleries (which served as a picture-exhibition on week-days), and at +the farther end of the largest room they found the oblong dinner-table, +which was brilliant with flowers and fruit, with crystal and silver. Of +course Lionel and his companion had to be content with very modest +places, for this was a highly distinguished company which Lord +Rockminster had invited; but at all events they made sure they were to +sit together, and that arrangement seemed to be satisfactory to them +both.</p> + +<p>This was rather a magnificent little banquet; and Lionel, looking down +the long, richly colored table, may once or twice have thought of the +quiet, small dining-room at Winstead (perhaps with the curtains still +undrawn, and the evening light shining blue in the panes), and of the +solitary guest whom he had left to talk<!-- Page 68 --><span class="pagenum">{68}</span> to those good people; but +indeed he was not permitted much time for reverie, for the young lady +with the <i>pince-nez</i> was a most lively chatterer; she knew everything +that was going on in London, and seemed to take a particularly active +interest therein. Among other solemn items of information which she +communicated to her companion, she mentioned that the issue of Lady +Adela's novel had been postponed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's quite ready, you know," she continued, in her blithe, +discursive, happy-go-lucky fashion; "all quite ready; but she doesn't +want it to go before the public until there has been a little talk about +it, don't you understand? She wants some of the society papers to +mention it; but she isn't quite sure how to get that done, and nobody +seems able to help her—it's really distressing. Do you see that hideous +creature down there at the corner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He's a writer," observed this artless maiden, in mysterious tones.</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is—writes in all kinds of places. Why, now I think of it, Lady +Adela said he was a friend of yours! I'm sure she did. So you pretend +not to know him—is that on account of his complexion? Have you any more +such <i>beauties</i> among your acquaintances, Mr. Moore? I thought he might +be taking me in to dinner; and that's why I was so glad you brought me +to look at the cards. Very rude, wasn't it? but you had permission, +hadn't you? And there's another one coming to-night."</p> + +<p>"Another what?"</p> + +<p>"A writing man. But this other one is an American. Of course Lady Adela +wants to have the curiosity of the American public excited just as well +as the English. Have you heard Lady Sybil's marching-song yet?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think it is charming—really charming. Rockminster was dining +with the officers of the Coldstream Guards the other evening, and he +promised to send a copy to the bandmaster as soon as it is published. +But Sybil wants more than that, of course; she wants to see whether the +commander-in-chief wouldn't recommend it, so that it could be taken up +by all the regiments. Wouldn't that be splendid?—to think that<!-- Page 69 --><span class="pagenum">{69}</span> Sybil +should provide a marching-song for the whole British army!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said he, with great politeness. "And why shouldn't the +commander-in-chief recommend it? A marching-song is as important as a +new button. But I must get a look at the music, if we are all to join in +the chorus."</p> + +<p>The dinner was not long-protracted, for there was to be a concert during +the evening; and, indeed, people began to arrive early—strolling +through the galleries, looking at the pictures, or talking together in +small groups. It was during this promiscuous assembling that Octavius +Quirk got hold of Lionel, and, with savage disgust, drew his attention +to a hostler-looking person who had just come into the room.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that ill-conditioned brute; what's he doing here?"</p> + +<p>Lionel glanced in the direction indicated.</p> + +<p>"I don't know who he is."</p> + +<p>"Don't you know Quincey Hooper? the correspondent of the <i>Philadelphia +Roll-Call</i>—a cur who toadies every Englishman he meets, and at the same +time sneers at everything English in his wretched Philadelphia rag."</p> + +<p>Then Lionel instantly bethought him of Miss Lestrange's hint; was this +the correspondent who was to arouse the interest of the great American +Continent in Lady Adela's forthcoming novel, even as Octavius Quirk was +expected to write about it in England? But surely, with the wide +Atlantic lying between their respective spheres of operation, there was +no need for rivalry? Why did Mr. Quirk still glare in the direction of +the new-comer with ill-disguised, or rather with wholly undisguised, +disdain?</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, in his tempestuously frothy fashion, "I've heard that +creature actually discussing with another American what sort of air a +man should assume in entering a drawing-room! Can you conceive of such a +thing? Where <i>did</i> all that alarmed self-consciousness of the modern +American come from—that unceasing self-consciousness that makes the +American young man spend five sixths of his waking time in asking +himself if he is a gentleman? Not from the splendid assurance, the +belief in himself, the wholesome satisfaction of old John Bull. It's no +use for the modern American to say he is of English descent at all!" +continued this boisterous controversialist, who<!-- Page 70 --><span class="pagenum">{70}</span> was still glaring at +the hapless mortal at the door, as if every windy sentence was being +hurled at his head. "Not a bit! there's nothing English about him, or +his ways, or his sympathies, or character. Fancy an Englishman +considering what demeanor he should assume before entering a +drawing-room! The modern American hasn't the least idea from whom he is +descended; what right has he to claim anything of our glorious English +heritage?—or to say there is English blood in him at all? Why, as far +back as the Declaration of Independence, the people of English birth or +parentage in the Eastern States were in a distinct minority! And as to +the American of the future—look at the thousands upon thousands of +Germans pouring into the country as compared with the English +immigration. That is the future American—a German; and it is to be +hoped he will have some back-bone in him, and not alarm himself about +his entering a drawing-room! America for the Americans?—it's America +for the Germans! I tell you this: in a generation or two the great +national poet of America will be—Goethe!"</p> + +<p>Happily, at this moment, Lady Adela came up, and Lionel most gladly +turned aside, for she had evidently something to say to him privately.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore, I want to introduce you to Mr. Hooper—to Mr. Quincey +Hooper—he doesn't seem to know anybody, and I want you to look after +him a little—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Lady Adela, you must really excuse me," said he, in an +undertone, but he was laughing all the same. "I can't, really. I beg +your pardon, but indeed you must excuse me. I've just had one dose of +literature—a furious lecture about—about I don't know what—oh, yes, +immigration into America. And do you know this—that in a generation or +two the great national poet of America will be Goethe?"</p> + +<p>"What?" said she.</p> + +<p>He repeated the statement; and added that there could be no doubt about +it, for he had it on Mr. Octavius Quirk's authority.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a good thing to be told," she said, sweetly, "for then you +know." And therewithal, as there was a sudden sound of music issuing +from the next gallery, she bade Lionel take her to see who had begun—it +was Lady Sybil, indeed, who was playing a solo on the violin to an +accompaniment of stringed instruments, while all the crowd stood still +and listened.<!-- Page 71 --><span class="pagenum">{71}</span></p> + +<p>The evening passed pleasantly enough. There were one or two courageous +amateurs who now and again ventured on a song; but for the most part the +music was instrumental. A young lady, standing with her hands behind her +back, gave a recitation, and attempted to draw pathetic tears by +picturing the woes of a simple-minded chimney-sweep who accidentally +killed his tame sparrow, and who never quite held up his head +thereafter; he seemed to pine away somehow, until one morning they found +him dead, his face downward on the tiny grave in which he had buried his +little playfellow. Another young lady performed a series of brilliant +roulades on a silver bugle, which seemed to afford satisfaction. A +well-known entertainer sat down to the piano and proceeded to give a +description of a fashionable wedding; and all the people laughed merrily +at the clever and sparkling way in which he made a fool of—not +themselves, of course, but their friends and acquaintances. And then +Lionel Moore went to his hostess.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want me to do anything?" he said.</p> + +<p>"You're too kind," Lady Adela made answer, with grateful eyes. "It's +hardly fair. Still, if I had the courage—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have the courage," he said, smiling.</p> + +<p>"If I had the courage to ask you to sing Sybil's song for her?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I will sing it," he said.</p> + +<p>"Will you? Will you really? You know, I'm afraid those two girls will +never give enough force to it. And it is a man's song—if you wouldn't +mind, Mr. Moore."</p> + +<p>"Where can I get the music? I'll just look it over."</p> + +<p>Quite a little murmur of interest went through the place when it was +rumored that Lionel Moore was about to sing Lady Sybil's "Soldiers' +Marching Song," and when he stepped on to the platform at the upper end +of the gallery, people came swarming in from the other rooms. Lady Sybil +herself was to play the accompaniment—the grand piano being fully +opened so as to give free egress to the marshalled chords; and when she +sat down to the keyboard, it was apparent that the tall, pale, handsome +young lady was not a little tremulous and anxious. Indeed, it was a very +good thing for the composer that she had got Lionel Moore to sing the +song; for the quite trivial and commonplace character of the music was +in a large measure concealed by the fine and resonant quality of his +rich baritone<!-- Page 72 --><span class="pagenum">{72}</span> notes. The chorus was not much of a success—Lady Sybil's +promised accomplices seemed to have found their courage fail them at the +critical moment; but as for the martial ditty itself, it appeared to +take the public ear very well; and when Lionel finally folded the music +together again, there was quite a little tempest of clapping of hands. +Here and there a half-hearted demand for a repetition was heard; but +this was understood to be merely a compliment to Lady Sybil; and indeed +Lionel strolled out of the room as soon as his duties were over. +Fortunately no one was so indiscreet as to ask him what he privately +thought of the "Soldiers' Marching Song," or of its chances of being +recommended to the British Army by his royal highness the +commander-in-chief.</p> + +<p>When at length Lionel thought it was about time for him to slip away +quietly from these brilliant, busy, murmuring rooms, he went to bid his +hostess privately good-night.</p> + +<p>"It was so awfully kind of you, Mr. Moore," she said, graciously, "to +give us the chance of making Mr. Quirk's acquaintance. He is so +interesting, you know, so unconventional, so original in his +opinions—quite a treat to listen to him, I assure you. I've sent him a +copy of my poor little book; some time or other I wish you could get to +know what he thinks of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, certainly. I will ask him," Lionel said; and again he bade her +good-night, and took his leave.</p> + +<p>But as he was going by the entrance into a smaller gallery, which had +been turned into a sort of supper-room (there was a buffet at one end, +and everywhere a number of small tables at which groups of friends could +sit down, the gentlemen of the party bringing over what was wanted) he +happened to glance in, and there, occupying a small table all by +himself, was Mr. Octavius Quirk, Lionel at once made his way to him. He +found him with a capacious plate of lobster-salad before him, and by the +side of that was a large bottle of champagne.</p> + +<p>"Going to sit down?" Quirk asked—but with no great cordiality; it was +for one person, not for two, that he had secured that bottle.</p> + +<p>"No; I dined here," said Lionel, with innocent sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," observed the other, earnestly, "a good dinner is the +very best preparation in the world for a good supper."<!-- Page 73 --><span class="pagenum">{73}</span></p> + +<p>"I hear Lady Adela has sent you her book; have you looked at it?" Lionel +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," said the other, with his mouth full of lobster-salad. +"Capital! I call it capital! Plenty of <i>verve</i> and go—knowledge of +society—nobody can do that kind of thing like the people who are +actually living in it. Her characters are the people one really meets, +you know—they are in the world—they belong to life. Oh, yes, a capital +novel! Light, airy, amusing, sparkling—I tell you it will be the book +of the season!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm very glad to hear that," said Lionel, thoughtfully; and then he +went and got his light overcoat and crush-hat, and descended the wide +stone-steps, and made his way home to his rooms in Piccadilly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h4>WARS AND RUMORS.</h4> + + +<p>Little could Lionel Moore have anticipated what was to come of his +introducing his old comrade Nina to the New Theatre. At first all went +well; and even the prima-donna herself was so good as to extend her +patronage to Lionel's <i>protégée</i>; insomuch that, arriving rather early +at the theatre one evening, and encountering Nina in the corridor, she +said to her,</p> + +<p>"You come into my room, and I'll show you my make-up."</p> + +<p>It was a friendly offer; and the young Italian girl, who was working +hard in every way to fit herself for the stage, was glad to be initiated +still further into these mysteries of the toilet. But when she had +followed Miss Burgoyne into the sacred inner room, and when the dresser +had been told she should not be wanted yet awhile, Nina, who was far +from being a stupid person, began to perceive what had prompted this +sudden invitation. For Miss Burgoyne, as she was throwing off her +things, and getting ready for her stage-transformation, kept plying her +guest with all sorts of cunning little questions about Mr. +Moore—questions which had no apparent motive, it is true, so carelessly +were they asked; but Nina, even as she answered, was shrewd enough to +understand.<!-- Page 74 --><span class="pagenum">{74}</span></p> + +<p>"So you might call yourself quite an old friend of his," the prima-donna +continued, busying herself at the dressing-table. "Well, what do you +think of him now?"</p> + +<p>"How, Miss Burgoyne?" Nina said.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see the position he has attained here in London—very +different from what he had when he was studying in Naples, I suppose. +Don't you hear how all those women are spoiling him? What do you think +of that? If I were a friend of his—an intimate friend—I should warn +him. For what will the end be—he'll marry a rich woman, a woman of +fashion, and cease to be anybody. Fancy a man's ruining his +career—giving up his position, his reputation—becoming nobody at +all—in order to have splendid horses and give big dinner-parties! Of +course she'll have her doll, to drive by her side in the Park; but +she'll tire—and then? And he'll get sick-tired, too, and wish he was +back in the theatre; and just as likely as not he'll take to drinking, +or gambling, or something. Depend on it, my dear, a professional should +marry in the profession; that's the only safe thing; then there is a +community of interests, and they understand each other and are glad of +each other's success. Don't you think so yourself?"</p> + +<p>Nina was startled by the sudden appeal; but she managed to intimate +that, on the whole, she agreed with Miss Burgoyne; and that young lady +proceeded to expand her little lecture and to cite general instances +that had come within her own knowledge of the disastrous effects of +theatrical people marrying outside their own set. As to any lesson in +the art of making-up, perhaps Miss Burgoyne had forgotten the pretext on +which she asked Nina to come to her room. Her maid was called in to help +her now. And at last it was time for Nina to go, for she also, in her +humble way, had to prepare herself for the performance.</p> + +<p>But this friendliness on the part of the prima-donna towards the young +baritone's <i>protégée</i> did not last very long. For one thing, Lionel did +not come to Miss Burgoyne's sitting-room as much as he used to do, to +have a cup of tea and a chat with one or two acquaintances; he preferred +standing in the wings with Nina, who was a most indefatigable student, +and giving her whispered criticisms and comments as to what was going +forward on the stage. When Miss Burgoyne came upon them<!-- Page 75 --><span class="pagenum">{75}</span> so employed, +she passed them in cold disdain. And by degrees she took less and less +notice of Miss Ross (as Nina was now called), who, indeed, was only Miss +Girond's under-study and a person of no consequence in the theatre. +Finally, Miss Burgoyne ceased to recognize Miss Ross, even when they +happened to be going in by the stage-door of an evening; and Nina, not +knowing how she had offended, nevertheless accepted her fate meekly and +without protest, nor had she any thought of asking Lionel to intervene.</p> + +<p>But worse was to befall. One day Lionel said to her,</p> + +<p>"Nina, I never knew any one work harder than you are doing. Of course +it's very handy your having Mrs. Grey to coach you; and you can't do +better than stand opposite that long mirror and watch yourself doing +what she tells you to do. She's quite enthusiastic about you; perhaps +it's because you are so considerate—she says you never practise until +the other lodgers have gone out. By the way, that reading dialogue aloud +is capital; I can hear how your English is getting freer and freer; why, +in a little while you'll be able to take any part that is offered you. +And in any case, you know, the English audiences rather like a touch of +foreign accent; oh, you needn't be afraid about that. Well, now, all +this hard work can't go on forever; you must have a little relaxation; +and I'm going to take you and Mrs. Grey for a drive down to Hampton +Court, and we'll dine there in the evening, in a room overlooking the +river—very pretty it is, I can tell you. What do you say? Will next +Friday do? Friday is the night of least consequence in a London theatre; +and if you can arrange it with Mrs. Grey, I'll arrange it with Lehmann; +my under-study is always glad of a chance of taking the part. You +persuade Mrs. Grey, and I'll manage Lehmann. Is it a bargain?"</p> + +<p>So it came about that on a certain bright and sunny morning in June +Lionel was standing at the window of a private room in a hotel near the +top of Regent Street, where he proposed (for he was an extravagant young +man) to entertain his two guests at lunch before driving them down to +Hampton Court. He had ordered the wine and seen that the flowers on the +table were all right; and now he was looking down into the street, +vaguely noticing the passers-by. But this barouche that drove up?—there +was something familiar about it—wasn't it the carriage he had sent<!-- Page 76 --><span class="pagenum">{76}</span> +down to Sloane Street?—then the next moment he was saying to himself,</p> + +<p>"My goodness gracious! can that be Nina?"</p> + +<p>And Nina it assuredly was; but not the Nina of the black dress and +crimson straw hat with which he had grown familiar. Oh, no; this young +lady who stepped down from the carriage, who waited a second for her +friend, and then crossed the pavement, was a kind of vision of light +summer coolness and prettiness; even his uninstructed intelligence told +him how charmingly she was dressed; though he had but a glimpse of the +tight-fitting gown of cream-white, with its silver girdle, the white +straw hat looped up on one side and adorned on the other with large +yellow roses, the pale-yellow gloves with silver bangles at the wrists, +the snow-white sunshade, with its yellow satin ribbons attached. The +vision of a moment—then it was gone; but only to reappear here at the +open door. And who could think of her costume at all when Nina herself +came forward, with the pretty, pale, foreign face so pleasantly smiling, +the liquid black eyes softly bespeaking kindness, the half-parted lips +showing a glimmer of milk-white teeth.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Leo!"</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Nina! They say that ladies are never punctual; but here +you are to the moment!"</p> + +<p>"Then you have to thank Mrs. Grey—and your own goodness in sending the +carriage for us. Ah, the delightful flowers!" said she, glancing at the +table, and her nostrils seemed to dilate a little, as if she would +welcome all their odors at once. "But the window, Leo—you will have the +window open? London, it is perfectly beautiful this morning!—the air is +sweet as of the country—oh, it is the gayest city in the world!"</p> + +<p>"I never saw London fuller, anyway," said he, as he rang the bell, and +told the waiter to have luncheon produced forthwith.</p> + +<p>Nina, seated at table in that cool summer costume, merely toyed with the +things put before her (except when they came to the strawberries); she +was chattering away, with her little dramatic gestures, about every +conceivable subject within her recent experience, until, as she happened +to say something about Naples, Lionel cruelly interrupted her by asking +her if she had heard lately from her sweetheart.<!-- Page 77 --><span class="pagenum">{77}</span></p> + +<p>"Who?" she said, with a stare; and also the little widow in black looked +up from her plate and seemed to think it a strange question.</p> + +<p>"Don't you pretend to have forgotten, Nina," Lionel said, reprovingly. +"Don't you look so innocent. If you have no memory, then I have."</p> + +<p>"But who, Leo?" she demanded, with a touch of indignation. +"Who?—who?—who? What is it you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Nina, don't you pretend you have forgotten poor Nicolo Ciana."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nicolo!" she exclaimed, with supreme contempt (but all the same +there was a faint flush on the clear olive complexion). "You laugh at +me, Leo! Nicolo! He was all, as they say here, sham—sham jewelry, sham +clothes, all pretence, except the oil for his hair—that was plenty and +substantial, yes. And a sham voice—he told lies to the <i>maestro</i> about +his wonderful compass—"</p> + +<p>"Now, now, Nina, don't be unjust," he said. "Mrs. Grey must hear the +truth. Mrs. Grey, this was a young Italian who wanted to be better +acquainted with Miss Nina here—I believe he used to write imploring +letters to her, and that she cruelly wouldn't answer them; and then he +wrote to Maestro Pandiani, describing the wonderful tenor voice he had, +and saying he wanted to study. I suppose he fancied that if the +<i>maestro</i> would only believe in the mysterious qualities of this +wonderful organ of his he would try to bring them out; and in the +meantime the happy Nicolo would be meeting Nina continually. A lover's +stratagem—nothing worse than that! What is the harm of saying that you +could take the high C if you were in ordinary health, but that your +voice has been ill-used by a recent fever? It was Nina he was thinking +of. Don't I remember how I used to hear him coming along the +garden-paths in the Villa Reale—if there were few people about you +could hear his vile falsetto a mile off—and always it was:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">'Antoniella, Antonià,</div> +<div class="verse">Antoniella, Antonià;</div> +<div class="verse">Votate, Nenna bella, votate ccà,</div> +<div class="verse">Vedimmo a pettenessa comme te stà.'"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>"Leo," she said, with proud lips, "he never called me '<i>Nenna +mia</i>'—never! He dared not!"<!-- Page 78 --><span class="pagenum">{78}</span></p> + +<p>In another instant, he could see, there would have been protesting tears +in her eyes; and even Mrs. Grey, who did not know the meaning of the +familiar Neapolitan phrase,<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> noticed the tremulous indignation in the +girl's voice.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, Nina," he said, at once; "I was only joking—but you +know he did use to sing that confounded 'Antoniella, Antonià,' and it +was always you he was thinking of."</p> + +<p>"I did not think of <i>him</i>, then!" said she, almost instantly recovering +her self-control. "Him? No! When I go out—when I was going out in the +<i>Santa Lucia</i>, I looked at the English gentlemen—all so simple and +honest in their dress—perhaps a steel watch-chain to a gold watch—not +a sham gold chain to no watch! Then they looked so clean and +wholesome—is it right, wholesome?—not their hair dripping with grease, +as the peasant-girls love it. And then," she added, with a laugh, for +her face had quickly resumed its usual happy brightness of expression, +"then I grow sentimental. I say to myself, 'These are English +people—they are going away back to England, where Leo is—can they take +him a message?—can they tell him they were going over to Capri, and +they met on the ship—on the steamer—an Italian girl, who liked to look +at the English, and liked to hear the English speak?' And then I say 'No; +what is the use; what would any message do; Leo has forgotten me.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said he, lightly, "you must have been quite certain that I +had forgotten my old comrade Nina!"</p> + +<p>They got a beautiful, warm, sunny afternoon for their drive down to +Hampton Court; nor was it fated to be without incident either. They had +passed along Oxford Street and were just turning out of the crowded +thoroughfare to enter Hyde Park—and Lionel, as a man will, was watching +how his coachman would take the horses through the Marble Arch—when +Nina said, in a low voice,</p> + +<p>"Leo!"</p> + +<p>"Well?" said he, turning to her.</p> + +<p>"Did you not see?"</p> + +<p>"See what?"<!-- Page 79 --><span class="pagenum">{79}</span></p> + +<p>"The carriage that went past." Nina said, looking a little concerned. +"Miss Burgoyne was in it—she bowed to you—"</p> + +<p>"Did she? I didn't see her—I'll have to apologize to her to-morrow," +said he, carelessly. "Perhaps the compliment was meant for you, Nina."</p> + +<p>"For me? Ah, no. Miss Burgoyne speaks no more to me."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't speak to you? Why?" he asked, in some amazement.</p> + +<p>The young Italian lady made a little gesture of indifference.</p> + +<p>"How do I know? But I am not sorry. I do not like her—no! she is +not—she is not—straightforward, is it right?—she is cunning—and she +has a dreadful temper—oh! I have heard;—I have heard such stories! +Again, she is not an artist—I said that to you from the beginning, +Leo—no, not an artist: why does she talk to you from behind her fan, +when she should regard the others on the stage? Why does she talk always +and always to you, when she has nothing to say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but she finds plenty to say!" he observed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nina, contemptuously, "she has always plenty to say to you +on the stage, if she has not a word the moment the scene is over. Why? +You don't understand! You don't reflect! I will tell you, Leo, if you +are so simple. You think she does not know that the public can see she +talks to you? She knows it well; and that is why she talks. It is to +boast of her friendship with you, her alliance with you. She says to the +ladies in the stalls, 'See here, I can talk to him when I please—you +are away—you are outside.' It is her vanity. She says to them, 'You can +buy his portrait out of the shop-window perhaps—you can ask him to your +house perhaps—and he goes for an hour, among strangers—but see +here—every night I am talking to him'—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and see here, Nina," he said, with a laugh, "how about my +vanity?—don't you think of that? Who could have imagined I was so +important a person! But the truth is, Nina, they've lengthened out that +comic scene inordinately with all that gagging, and Miss Burgoyne has +nothing to do in it; if she hides her talking behind her fan—"</p> + +<p>"Hides?" said Nina, with just a trace of scorn. "No; she shows! It is +display! It is vanity! And you think a true<!-- Page 80 --><span class="pagenum">{80}</span> artist would so forget her +part—would wish to show the people that she talks privately—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Nina is quite right, you know, Mr. Moore," said the little widow +in black, and she was entitled to speak with authority. "I didn't think +it looked well myself. A ballet-girl would catch it if she went on the +same way."</p> + +<p>"What would you have her do?" he said—for he was a very tolerant and +good-natured person. "Sit and look on at that idiotic comic gag?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said the little dame, with decision. "She is in the scene. +She is not Miss Burgoyne; she is Grace Mainwaring; and she ought to +appear interested in everything around her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, perhaps I have been to blame," he said, rather uneasily. "I +dare say I encouraged her. But really I had no idea the audience could +have noticed it."</p> + +<p>"It was meant for them to notice it," Nina said, vindictively; and then, +as she would have nothing more to say on this wretched subject, she +turned to look at the gay lilacs and laburnums in the neighborhood of +the Serpentine, at the shimmering blue of the wide stretch of water, and +at the fleet of pleasure-boats with their wet oars gleaming in the +golden sunlight.</p> + +<p>Her equanimity was soon restored; she would have nothing further to say +of Miss Burgoyne on such a gracious afternoon; and, indeed, when they +had crossed the Thames at Putney, and got into the opener country down +by Barnes and East Sheen and Richmond, she was chattering away in her +delight over everything they encountered—the wide commons, the +luxuriant gardens, the spacious mansions, the magnificent elms, the +hawthorn-trees, red and white, that sweetened all the soft summer air. +Of course when they arrived at the top of Richmond Hill they halted for +a minute or two at the Star and Garter to water the horses, while they +themselves had a stroll along the terrace, a cup of tea, and a look +abroad over the wide, hazy, dream-like landscape stretching far out into +the west. Then they crossed the river again at Richmond Bridge; they +bowled along by Twickenham and Teddington; finally they drove through +the magnificent chestnut-avenues of Bushey Park, which were just now in +their finest blossom. When they stopped at the Mitre, it was not to go +in; Nina was to be shown the gardens of<!-- Page 81 --><span class="pagenum">{81}</span> Hampton Court Palace; there +would be plenty of time for a pleasant saunter before dinner.</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne, indeed! Nina had forgotten all about Miss Burgoyne as the +little party of three passed through the cool gray courtyard of the +palace and entered into the golden glow of the gardens—for now the +westering sun was rich and warm on the tall elms and limes and threw +deep shadows on the greensward under the short black yews. They walked +down towards the river, and stood for a long time watching the irregular +procession of boats—many of them pulled by young girls in light summer +dresses that lent some variety of color to this sufficiently pretty +picture. It was altogether an attractive scene—the placid waters, the +soft green landscape, the swift, glancing boats, from which from time to +time came a ripple of youthful laughter or song. And indeed Nina was +regarding rather wistfully those maidens in palest blue or palest pink +who went swinging down with the stream.</p> + +<p>"Those young ladies," she said, in an absent kind of way, to the little +widow, who was standing beside her, "it is a pleasant life they live. It +is all amusement. They have no hard work; no anxieties; no troubles; +everything is made gentle for them by their friends; it is one +enjoyment, and again and again; they have no care."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sure of that, Miss Nina," Mrs. Grey said, with a quiet +smile. "I dare say many a one of those girls has worked as hard at her +music as ever you have done, and has very little to show for it. I dare +say many a one of them would be glad to change her position for yours—I +mean, for the position you will have ere long. Do you know, Mr. Moore," +she said, turning to Nina's other companion, "that I am quite sure of +this—if Miss Burgoyne's under-study was drafted into a travelling +company, I am quite sure Miss Nina here could take her place with +perfect confidence."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why not," he said, as if it were a matter of course.</p> + +<p>"Then you know what would happen," Mrs. Grey continued, turning again to +the young lady, in whose future she seemed greatly interested. "Miss +Burgoyne would want a holiday, or her doctor would order her to give her +voice a fortnight's rest, or she might catch a bad cold—and then comes +your chance!<!-- Page 82 --><span class="pagenum">{82}</span> You know the music thoroughly? you know every bit of Miss +Burgoyne's 'business;' and Mr. Moore would be on the stage, or in the +wings, to guide you as to your entrances and exits. That will be a proud +night for me, my dear; for I'll be there—oh, yes, I'll be there; and if +I have any stage experience at all, I tell you it will be a splendid +triumph—with such a voice as yours—and there won't be any more talk of +keeping you as under-study to Miss Girond. No," she added, with a shrewd +smile, "but there will be something else. Miss Burgoyne won't like it; +she doesn't like rivals near the throne, from what I can hear. She'll +try to get you drafted off into one of the country companies—mark my +words."</p> + +<p>"The country?" said Nina, rather aghast. "To go away into the country?"</p> + +<p>"But look at the chance, my dear," said the little ex-actress, eagerly. +"Look at the practice—the experience! And then, if you only take care +of your voice, and don't strain it by overwork, then you'll be able to +come back to London and just command any engagement you may want."</p> + +<p>"To come back to London after a long time?" she said, thoughtfully; and +she was somewhat grave and reserved as they strolled idly back through +the gardens, and through the Palace buildings, to the riverside hotel.</p> + +<p>But no far-reaching possibilities of that kind were allowed to interfere +with Nina's perfect enjoyment of this little dinner-party that had been +got up in her honor. They had a room all to themselves on an upper +floor; the windows were thrown wide open; even as they sat at table they +could look abroad on the spacious landscape whose meadows and hedges and +woods stretched away into distant heights crowned by a solitary +windmill. Indeed, the young lady was so rude as to leave the table more +than once, and go and stand at the open window; there was a charm in the +dying-out of the day—in the beautiful colors now encircling the +world—in the hushed sounds coming up from the stream—that she could +not withstand. The evening glow was warm on the rose-hued front of the +palace and on the masses of sunny green foliage surrounding it; on the +still, blue river the boats were of a lustrous bronze; while the oars +seemed to be oars of shining gold as they dipped and flashed. By and by, +indeed, the glory faded away; the stream<!-- Page 83 --><span class="pagenum">{83}</span> became gray and ghostly; there +were no more ripples of laughter or calls from this side to that; and +Nina resumed her place more contentedly at the table, which was all lit +up now. She made her small apologies; she said she did not know that +England was such a beautiful place. Lionel, who in no way resented her +thus withdrawing herself from time to time, had been leisurely talking +to Mrs. Grey of theatrical things in general; and, now that coffee was +coming in, he begged permission to light a cigarette. Altogether it was +a simple, friendly, unpretentious evening, that did not seem to involve +any serious consequences. As night fell, they set out on their homeward +drive; and through the silent country they went, under the stars. Lionel +left his two friends at their door in Sloane Street; and as he was +driving home to his lodgings, if he thought of the matter at all, he no +doubt hoped that he had given his friends a pleasant little treat.</p> + +<p>But there was more to come of it than that. On the following evening +Lionel got down to the theatre rather later than usual, and had to set +to work at once to get ready, so that he had no opportunity of seeing +Miss Burgoyne until he actually met her on the stage. Now, those of the +public who had seen this piece before could not have perceived any +difference of manner on the part of the coquettish Grace Mainwaring +towards the young gentleman who had so unexpectedly fallen in her +way—to wit, Harry Thornhill; but Lionel instantly became aware of it; +and while he was endeavoring, after the fashion of the young stage +gallant, to convey to Miss Grace Mainwaring the knowledge that she had +suddenly captured his fancy and made him her slave for life, he was +inwardly reflecting that he should have come down earlier to the +theatre, and apologized to Miss Burgoyne for the unintentional slight of +the previous day. As soon as the scene was over and they were both in +the wings, he hastened to her (they had left the stage by opposite +sides) and said,</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Burgoyne, something very awkward happened yesterday—I am so +sorry—I want to apologize—"</p> + +<p>"I hope you will do nothing of the kind," said she, haughtily, "it is +quite unnecessary."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but look here, I'm really very sorry," he was endeavoring to say, +when she again interrupted him:</p> + +<p>"If you choose to go driving through London with chorus-girls,"<!-- Page 84 --><span class="pagenum">{84}</span> said +she, in measured and bitter tones, "I suppose your attention must be +fully occupied."</p> + +<p>And therewith she marched proudly away from him; nor could he follow her +to protest or explain, for he was wanted on the stage in about a second. +He felt inclined to be angry and resentful; but he was helpless; he had +to attend to this immediate scene.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Miss Burgoyne did not long preserve that lofty demeanor of +hers; the moment she left him her rage got the better of her, for here +was the Italian girl most inopportunely coming along the corridor; and +just as poor Nina came up Miss Burgoyne turned to her maid, who was +holding open the dressing-room door for her, and said aloud, so that +every one could overhear,</p> + +<p>"Oh, we don't want foreigners in English opera; why don't they take a +barrel-organ through the streets, or a couple of canaries in a cage?"</p> + +<p>Nor was that all; for here was Mlle. Girond; and the smart little +boy-officer, as she came along the passage, was gayly singing to +herself,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Le rôti, la salade,</div> +<div class="verse">L'amour, la promenade</div> +<div class="versei1">À deux dans les</div> +<div class="versei2">Dans les</div> +<div class="versei1">Deux dans les</div> +<div class="verse">À deux dans les bluets!"</div> +</div></div> + +<p>"Oh, there's another of the foreign chimpanzees!" exclaimed Miss +Burgoyne, in her fury; and she dashed into her room, and slammed the +door behind her.</p> + +<p>Mlle. Girond stood staring at the door; then she turned to look at Nina; +then she burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"Quel ouragan, grand Dieu!" she cried. "Ma pauvre enfant, qu'allez vous +faire maintenant?" She turned to the door and laughed again. "Elle a la +tête près du bonnet, n'est-ce pas?—mon Dieu, elle s'enflamme comme de +la poudre!"</p> + +<p>But Nina did not stay to make any explanation; somewhat paler than +usual, and quite silent and reserved, she took up her position in the +wings; nor had she a word to say to Lionel when he came off the stage +and passed her—with a nod and a smile of greeting—on his way to his +room.</p> + +<p>Then things went from bad to worse, and swiftly. On the very next +afternoon, which was a Sunday, Lionel was about to walk down to Sloane +Street, to have a chat and a cup of tea with<!-- Page 85 --><span class="pagenum">{85}</span> Mrs. Grey and Nina; but +before going he thought he would just have time to scribble a piece of +music in an album that Lady Rosamund Bourne had sent him and affix his +name thereto. He brought his writing materials to the table and opened +the big volume; and he was glancing over the pages (Lady Rosamund had +laid some very distinguished people, mostly artists, under contribution, +and there were some interesting sketches) when the house-porter came up +and presented a card. Lionel glanced at the name—Mr. Percival +Miles—and wondered who the stranger might be; then he recollected that +surely this was the name of a young gentleman who was a devoted admirer +of Miss Burgoyne. Miss Burgoyne had, indeed, on one occasion introduced +the young man to him; but he had paid little heed; most likely he +regarded him with the sort of half-humorous contempt with which the +professional actor is apt to look upon the moon-struck youths who bring +bouquets into the stalls and languish about stage-doors. However, he +told the house-porter to ask the gentleman to step up-stairs.</p> + +<p>But he was hardly prepared for what followed. The young gentleman who +now came into the room—he was a pretty boy, of the fair-haired English +type, with a little yellow moustache and clear, gray eyes—seemed almost +incapable of speech, and his lips were quite pale.</p> + +<p>"In—in what I have to say to you, Mr. Moore," he said, in a breathless +kind of way, "I hope there will be no need to mention any lady's name. +But you know whom I mean. That—that lady has placed her interests in my +hands—she has appealed to me—I am here to demand reparation—in the +usual way—"</p> + +<p>"Reparation—for what?" Lionel asked, staring at the young man as if he +were an escaped lunatic.</p> + +<p>"Your attentions," said the hapless boy, striving hard to preserve a +calm demeanor, "your attentions are odious and objectionable—she will +not submit to them any longer—"</p> + +<p>"My attentions?" Lionel said. "If you mean Miss Burgoyne, I never paid +her any—you must be out of your senses!"</p> + +<p>"Shuffling will do you no good," said this fierce warrior, who seemed to +be always trying to swallow something—perhaps his wrath. "The lady has +placed her interests in my hands; I demand the only reparation that is +possible between gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Look here, my young friend," Lionel said, in a very cool<!-- Page 86 --><span class="pagenum">{86}</span> sort of +fashion, "do you want to go on the stage? Is that a specimen of what you +can do? For it isn't bad, you know—for burlesque."</p> + +<p>"You won't fight?" said the young man, getting paler and more breathless +than ever.</p> + +<p>"No, I will not fight—about nothing," Lionel said, with perfect +good-humor. "I am not such an ass. If Miss Burgoyne is annoyed because I +passed her on Friday without recognizing her, that was simply a mistake +for which I have already apologized to her. As for any cock-and-bull +story about my having persecuted her with odious attentions, that's all +moonshine; she never put that into your head; that's your own +imagination—"</p> + +<p>"By heavens, you shall fight!" broke in this infuriate young fool, and +the next moment he had snatched up the ink-bottle from the table before +him and tossed it into his enemy's face. That is to say, it did not +quite reach its aim; for Lionel had instinctively raised his hand, and +the missile fell harmlessly on to the table again—not altogether +harmlessly, either, for in falling the lid had opened and the ink was +now flowing over Lady Rosamund's open album. At sight of this mishap, +Lionel sprang to his feet, his eyes afire.</p> + +<p>"I've a mind to take you and knock your idiotic brains against that +wall," he said to the panting, white-faced youth. "But I won't. I will +teach you a lesson instead. Yes, I will fight. Make what arrangements +you please; I'll be there. Now get out."</p> + +<p>He held the door open; the young man said, as he passed,</p> + +<p>"You shall hear from me."</p> + +<p>And then Lionel went back to Lady Rosamund's ill-fated album, and began +to sponge it with blotting-paper, while with many a qualm he considered +how he was to apologize to her and make some kind of plausible +explanation. Fortunately the damage turned out to be less serious than +at first sight appeared. The open page, which contained a very charming +little sketch in water-color by Mr. Mellord, was of course hopelessly +ruined; but elsewhere the ink had not penetrated very far; a number of +new mounts would soon put that right. Then he thought he would go to Mr. +Mellord and lay the whole affair before him, and humbly beg for another +sketch (artists always being provided<!-- Page 87 --><span class="pagenum">{87}</span> with such things); so that, as +regarded the album, no great harm had been done.</p> + +<p>But as he was sitting in Mrs. Grey's little parlor, at tea, Nina fancied +he looked a little preoccupied and was not talking as blithely as usual, +and she made bold to ask him if anything were the matter.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "something is the matter. I'm afraid I've made a fool of +myself." And then he added, with a smile, "Nina, I'm going to fight a +duel."</p> + +<p>"A duel, Leo?" she said, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and what I fear about it is the ridicule that may follow. But +don't be alarmed, Nina," he said, cheerfully, "I don't think I'm going +to fall on the deadly field of battle; I can take care of myself. The +trouble is that the whole thing is so preposterous—so absolutely +ridiculous! The fact is, what the young gentleman really wants is a +thorough good caning, and there's nobody to give it him. Very well, he +must have something else; and I propose to teach him a wholesome lesson. +I'm not going to take the trouble of crossing over to France or +Belgium—I dare say that will be the programme—for nothing. Then +there's another thing, Nina: I am the challenged party; I ought to have +the choice of weapons. Well, now, I am not a very good shot; but I'm +considered a very fair fencer; and I suppose you would say that I should +be magnanimous and choose pistols? Oh, no; I'm not going to do anything +of the kind. There might be a very awkward accident with pistols—that +is to say, if our bloodthirsty seconds put in more than half a charge of +powder. But with swords I fancy I shall be rather master of the +situation; and perhaps a little prod or a scratch, just to show him the +color of his own blood, will do him a world of good. It may turn out the +other way, no doubt; I've heard of bad fencers breaking through one's +guard just by pure ignorance and accident; but the betting is against +that kind of thing."</p> + +<p>"But what is it all about, Leo?" Nina exclaimed; she was far more +concerned about this mad project than he appeared to be.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't tell you that," said he, lightly, "without telling you the +name of the lady—for of course there is a lady in it—and that is never +allowed."</p> + +<p>Nina sprang to her feet and stretched out her hands towards him.<!-- Page 88 --><span class="pagenum">{88}</span></p> + +<p>"I know—I know!" she said, in a breathless sort of way. "Leo, you will +not deny it to me—it is Miss Burgoyne! Ah, do I not know!—she is a +serpent!—a cat!—a devil!—"</p> + +<p>"Nina," he said, almost angrily, "what are you talking about? Do you +suppose Miss Burgoyne would want a duel fought just because I happened +to pass her, by accident, without raising my hat?—it's absurd."</p> + +<p>"Ah, there is more than that, Leo!" Nina cried, eagerly; and then she +paused, in some hesitation and embarrassment. "Yes, there is more than +that," she repeated, as if with an effort, and there was a slight flush +in the pretty, pale face. "Why should I not say it to you? You are too +simple, Leo. You do not understand. She wishes to have the reputation to +be allied with you—in the theatre—out of the theatre. Then she sees +that you drive with me in an open carriage; she hates me—what more +natural? And she is angry with you—"</p> + +<p>"Now, Nina," said he, "do you think any woman could be so mad as to want +to have a duel fought simply because she saw me driving past in a +carriage with Mrs. Grey and you—is it reasonable?"</p> + +<p>"Leo, you did not see her last night," Nina said, but still with a +little embarrassment, "when she meets me in the corridor—oh, such a +furious woman!—her face white, her eyes burning. As for her insulting +me, what may I care? I am a foreigner, yes; if one says so, I am not +wounded. Perhaps the foreigners have better manners a little?—but that +is not of importance; no, what I say is, she will be overjoyed to have +you fight a duel about her—why, it is glory for her!—every one will +talk—your names will be joined in newspapers—when the people see you +on the stage they will say, 'Ah, ah, he is back from fighting the duel; +he must be mad in love with Miss Burgoyne.' A duel—yes, so unusual in +England—every one will talk—ah, that will be the sweetest music for +Miss Burgoyne's ears in the whole world—prouder than a queen she will +be when the public have your name and her name rumored together. And you +do not understand it, Leo!"</p> + +<p>He had been listening in silence, with something of vexation deepening +upon his features.</p> + +<p>"What you say only makes matters worse and worse!" he exclaimed, +presently. "If that were true, Nina—just supposing<!-- Page 89 --><span class="pagenum">{89}</span> that were the true +state of the case—why, I should be fighting a duel over a woman I don't +care twopence about, and with a young jackass whom I could kick across +the street! That is what I ought to have done!—why didn't I throw him +down-stairs? But the mischief of it is that the thing is now inevitable; +I can't back out? I declare I never was in such a quandary in my life +before!"</p> + +<p>"And you will go and put yourself in danger, Leo," Nina said, +indignantly, "that a deceitful woman has the pride to hear the public +talk! Have you the right to do it? You say there are sometimes +accidents—both with swords as pistols—yes, every one knows it. And you +put your life in danger—for what? You care nothing for your friends, +then?—you think they will not heed much if—if an accident happens? You +think it is a light matter—nothing—a trifle done to please a boy and a +wicked-minded woman? Leo, I say you have no right to do it! You should +have the spirit, the courage, to say 'no!' You should go to that woman +and say, 'You think I will make sport for you?—no, I will not!' And as +for the foolish boy, if he comes near to you, then you take your +riding-whip, Leo, and thrash him!—thrash him—thrash him!" Nina +exclaimed, with her teeth set hard; indeed, her bosom was heaving so +with indignation that Mrs. Grey put her hand gently on the girl's +shoulder, and reminded her that Lionel was in sufficient perplexity, and +wanted wise counsel rather than whirling words.</p> + +<p>As for Lionel himself, he had to leave those good friends very shortly; +for he was going out to dinner, and he had to get home to dress. And as +he was walking along Piccadilly, ruminating over this matter, the more +he thought of it the less he liked the look of it: not that he had been +much influenced by Nina's apprehensions of personal harm, but that he +most distinctly feared the absurdity of the whole affair. Indeed, the +longer he pondered over it, the more morose and resentful he became that +he should ever have been placed in such an awkward position; and when he +was going up-stairs to his room, he was saying to himself, with gloomy +significance:</p> + +<p>"Well, if that young fool persists, I'd advise him to look +out; I'm not going over the water for nothing."<!-- Page 90 --> +<span class="pagenum">{90}</span></p> + +<p><br/></p> +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_1" +id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1">[1]</a></p><p><i>Nenna mia</i> +or <i>Nenna bella</i> is the pet phrase used by the Neapolitan young man in +addressing his sweetheart. <i>Nenna</i> has nothing to do with <i>Nina</i>, +which is a contraction of Antonia.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h4>A DEPARTURE.</h4> + + +<p>There was but little sleep for Nina that night. She was sick at heart to +think that in return for the unceasing kindness Lionel had shown her +since her arrival in England, she should be the means of drawing him +into this foolish embroilment. She saw the situation of affairs clearly +enough. Miss Burgoyne was an exacting, irritable, jealous woman, who had +resented Nina's presence in the theatre almost from the beginning, and +who had been driven into a sudden fury by the sight of Lionel (he taking +no notice of her either) driving past with this interloping foreigner. +Moreover, Miss Burgoyne was inordinately vain: to have the popular young +baritone fight a duel on her account—to have their names coupled +together in common talk—what greater triumph could she desire than +that? But while Miss Burgoyne might be the ostensible cause of the +quarrel, Nina knew who was the real cause of it; and again and again she +asked herself why she had ever come to England, thus to bring trouble +upon her old ally and companion Leo.</p> + +<p>And then in that world of visions that lies just outside the realm of +sleep—in which great things become small, and small things acquire a +fantastic and monstrous importance—she worried and fretted because +Lionel had laughingly complained on the previous evening that henceforth +there would be no more home-made lemonade for him. Well, now, if +she—that is to say, if Nina—were in her humble way to try what she +could do in that direction? It might not be so good as the lemonade that +Miss Burgoyne prepared; but perhaps Lionel would be a little generous +and make allowance? She would not challenge any comparison. She and Mrs. +Grey between them would do their best, and the result would be sent +anonymously to his rooms in Piccadilly; if he chose to accept it—well, +it was a timid little something by way of compensation. Nina forgot for +the moment that within<!-- Page 91 --><span class="pagenum">{91}</span> the next few days an unlucky sword-thrust might +suddenly determine Lionel's interest in lemonade, as in all other +earthly things; these trivial matters grew large in this distorted land +of waking dreams; nay, she began to think that if she were to leave +England altogether, and go away back to Naples, and perhaps accept an +engagement in opera at Malta, then matters would be as before at the New +Theatre; and when Lionel and Miss Burgoyne met in the corridor, it would +be, "Good-evening, Miss Burgoyne!" and "Good-evening, Mr. Moore!" just +as it used to be. There would be no Italian girl interfering, and +bringing dissension and trouble.</p> + +<p>But the next morning, when the actual facts of the case were before her +clearer vision, she had better reason for becoming anxious and restless +and miserable. As the day wore on, Mrs. Grey could hardly persuade her +to run down to the Crystal Palace for the opening of the Handel +Festival, though, as the little widow pointed out, Mr. Moore had +procured the tickets for them, and they were bound to go. Of course, +when once they were in the great transept of the Palace, in the presence +of this vast assemblage, and listening to the splendid orchestra and a +chorus of between three and four thousand voices dealing with the +massive and majestic strains of the "Messiah," the spell of the music +fell upon Nina and held absolute sway over her. She got into a curious +state of exaltation; she seemed breathless; sometimes, Mrs. Grey +thought, she shivered a little with the strain of emotion. And all the +time that Mr. Santley was singing "Why do the nations," she held her +hand tightly over her heart; and when he had finished—when the thrilled +multitude broke forth into an extraordinary thunder of enthusiasm—Nina +murmured to herself,</p> + +<p>"It is—it is like to take my life-blood away."</p> + +<p>But when they were in the train again, and on their way up to town, it +was evident to her companion that the girl had returned to her anxious +fears.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Grey," she said, suddenly, "I speak to Miss Burgoyne to-night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, don't do that, Miss Nina!" said Mrs. Grey, with much concern, +for she knew something of the circumstances of the case. "I hope you +won't do that! You might simply make matters worse. Mr. Moore would not +have spoken to you<!-- Page 92 --><span class="pagenum">{92}</span> if he thought you would interfere, depend upon that. +And if Miss Burgoyne is vexed or angry, what good would you do? I hear +she has a sharp tongue; don't <i>you</i> try her temper, my dear," the little +woman pleaded.</p> + +<p>But Nina did not answer these representations; and she was mostly silent +and thoughtful all the way to town. When they reached London, they had +some tea at the railway-station, and she went on at once to the theatre. +She was there early; Miss Burgoyne had not arrived; so Nina lingered +about the corridor, listening to Mlle. Girond's pretty chatter, but not +hearing very much.</p> + +<p>At length the prima-donna appeared; and she would have passed Nina +without recognition, had not the latter went forward a step, and said, +somewhat timidly,</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne!"</p> + +<p>"What?" said Miss Burgoyne, stopping short, and regarding the Italian +girl with a by-no-means-friendly stare.</p> + +<p>"May I have a word with you?" Nina said, with a little hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Yes; what is it?" the other demanded, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"But—but in private?" Nina said again. "In your room?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, come in!" Miss Burgoyne said, with but scant courtesy; +and she led the way into her sitting-room, and also intimated to her +maid that she might retire into the inner apartment. Then she turned to +Nina.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want?"</p> + +<p>But the crisis found Nina quite unprepared. She had constructed no set +speech; she had formulated no demand. For a second or so she stood +tongue-tied—tongue-tied and helpless—unable to put her passionate +appeal into words; then, all of a sudden, she said,</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne, you will not allow it—this folly! It is madness that +they fight about—about nothing! You will not allow it!—what is it to +you?—you have enough fame, enough reputation as a prima-donna, as a +favorite with the public—what more? Why should you wish more—and at +such a dreadful risk?—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know what you're talking about!" said Miss Burgoyne. "What +are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"The duel—" said Nina, breathlessly.<!-- Page 93 --><span class="pagenum">{93}</span></p> + +<p>"What duel?"</p> + +<p>Nina stared at her.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you do not know, then?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What don't I know?" Miss Burgoyne said, impatiently. "What are you +talking about! What duel? Is it something in the evening papers? Or have +you taken leave of your senses?"</p> + +<p>Nina paid no heed to these taunts.</p> + +<p>"You do not know, then," she asked, "that—that Mr. Moore is going to +fight a duel—with a young gentleman who is your friend? No?—you do not +know it?"</p> + +<p>It was Miss Burgoyne's turn to stare in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore?" she repeated, with her eyes (which were pretty and +coquettish enough, though they were not on the same plane) grown wide +and wondering. "A friend of mine? And you come to me—as if I had +anything to do with it? Oh, my goodness!" she suddenly exclaimed, and a +curious smile of intelligence began to dawn upon her face. "Has that +young donkey carried the matter so far as that?"</p> + +<p>But she was not displeased; nay, she was rather inclined to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Well, that would make a stir, wouldn't it? And how did you find it +out?—who told <i>you</i>? A duel? I thought he was talking rather +mysteriously yesterday morning—Conrad the Corsair kind of thing—glooms +and daggers—so it was a duel he was thinking of? But they are not +really going to fight, Miss Ross," continued Miss Burgoyne, who had +grown quite friendly. "You know people can't give up an engagement at a +theatre to go and fight a duel: it's only French gentlemen who have no +occupation who do that sort of thing. A duel?—a real, actual duel—do +you seriously mean it?"</p> + +<p>The prospect seemed to afford her great satisfaction, if not even a +cause for merriment.</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne, you will not permit it!" Nina exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I?" said the other. "What have I to do with it? If two men want to +fight, why shouldn't they?" said she, with apparent carelessness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you know well what you have to do with it," Nina said, with +some touch of scorn. "Yes, you pretend; but you know it well. The young +man he goes from you yesterday to provoke the duel—you have been +talking to him—and yet you<!-- Page 94 --><span class="pagenum">{94}</span> pretend. You say, why should they not +fight? Then it is nothing to you that one friend or the other friend may +be killed?—that is nothing to you?—and you know you can prevent it if +you choose. You do not wish to interfere—it will be amusing to read in +the papers! Oh, very amusing! And if the one is killed?"</p> + +<p>"But you know, Miss Ross, they don't go such lengths nowadays," said +Miss Burgoyne, with great good-humor. "No, no; it's only honor and glory +they go out for; it's only the name of the thing; they don't want to +kill each other. Besides, if two men mean to fight, how can a woman +interfere? What is she supposed to know of the cause of quarrel? These +things are not supposed to be known."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Nina, whose lips had grown still more indignant and +scornful, "this is what I say: if anything happens, it is your +conscience that will speak to you in after time. You wish them to fight, +yes, for your vanity to be pleased!—you wish it said that they fight +about you! And that is a trionf for you—something in the papers—and +you do not care what harm is done if you are talked about! That is your +friendship!—what do you care?—any one may be sacrificed to your +vanity—"</p> + +<p>"I suppose if they were fighting about you, you wouldn't say a word +against it!" observed Miss Burgoyne, coolly. In fact the vehement +reproaches that Nina had addressed to her did not seem to have offended +her in the least; for she went on to say, in the best of tempers: "Well, +Miss Ross, I have to thank you for bringing me the news. But don't be +alarmed; these dreadful duels, even when they get into the newspapers, +seldom show much harm done. And in the meantime will you excuse +me?—Jane is grumbling in there, I know. Tell me anything you may hear +about it by and by—and meanwhile I am very much obliged to you." So +Nina found herself dismissed, neither her piteous appeal nor her +indignant protest having had apparently any effect whatever.</p> + +<p>But Miss Burgoyne, while transforming herself into Grace Mainwaring, had +plenty of time to think over this startling position of affairs, and to +consider how she could best use it to her own advantage. She had a +nimble brain; and it may have occurred to her that here was a notable +chance for her to display<!-- Page 95 --><span class="pagenum">{95}</span> the splendid magnanimity of her +disposition—to overwhelm Mr. Lionel Moore with her forgiveness and her +generous intervention on his behalf. At all events, in the first scene +in which these two met on the stage, Harry Thornhill became instantly +aware that the merry and mischievous Grace Mainwaring appeared bent on +being very friendly towards him—even while she looked curiously at him, +as if there were something in her mind. Moreover, she seemed in +excellent spirits; there was no perfunctory "drag" in her give-and-take +speeches with the adventurous young gentleman whom fate had thrown in +her way. He was very well pleased to find the scene going so well; he +sang his share in the parting duet with unusual <i>verve</i>; she responded +with equal animation; the crowded house gave them an enthusiastic +recall. But the public could not tell that, even in the midst of this +artistic triumph, the audacious young lover had his own thoughts in his +head; and that he was really saying to himself, "What the mischief is +she at now?"</p> + +<p>He was to learn later on in the evening. Just as he got dressed for the +ball-room scene, a message was brought him that Miss Burgoyne would like +to see him for a minute or two as soon as he was ready. Forthwith he +went to her room, tapped at her door, entered, and found himself the +sole occupant; but the next moment the curtain concealing the +dressing-room was opened about five feet from the ground; and there (the +rest of her person being concealed) he beheld the smiling face of Grace +Mainwaring, with its sparkling eyes and rouge and patches, to say +nothing of the magnificent white wig with its nodding sprays of +brilliants.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment, Mr. Moore," said she, "and I shall be with you +directly"—and therewith the vision was gone, and the crimson curtains +came together again.</p> + +<p>Very shortly thereafter the Squire's Daughter came forth in all the +splendor of her white satin and pearls; and she lost no time in letting +him know why he had been summoned.</p> + +<p>"You are a very bloodthirsty man," said she, in accents of grave +reproach (though her eyes were not so serious), "and I am ashamed of you +that you should think of harming that poor boy; but I am not going to +allow it—"</p> + +<p>"Why, who told you anything about it?" he said; for he could not pretend +not to know what she meant.<!-- Page 96 --><span class="pagenum">{96}</span></p> + +<p>"A little bird," she made answer, with much complacence. "And the idea +that you should really want to do such a thing!—how many voices like +yours are there wandering about in comedy-opera that you should consider +you have any right to run such a risk? I don't mean being killed—I mean +catching a cold! I suppose you have got to take your coat and waistcoat +off—on Calais sands—with a wind blowing in from the sea; that is a +nice thing for your chest and throat, isn't it? Well, I'm going to step +in and prevent it. I consider you have treated me very badly—pretending +you didn't see me, when you were so very particularly engaged; but never +mind; I never bear malice; and, as I say, I'm going to step in and +prevent this piece of folly."</p> + +<p>"Very much obliged, I am sure," he said, politely. "When men propose to +fight, it is so extremely pleasant to find a woman appear to throw a +protecting arm over them!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not going to be repelled by any of your ferocious sentiments," +said she, good-naturedly. "I am a friend of both of you—I hope; and I +won't have anything of the kind—I tell you I won't allow it—"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid your intervention has come too late," said he, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't worth speaking about," said he. "The young gentleman went +a little too far—he has got to be taught a lesson, that is all—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, listen to him!—listen to his bloodthirstiness!" she exclaimed, in +affected horror; and then she suddenly altered her tone. "Come, now, Mr. +Moore, you're not seriously going to try to harm that poor boy! He is a +very nice boy, as honest and simple-minded as you could wish. And such a +pretty boy, too—no, no, it is quite absurd—"</p> + +<p>"You are right there," said he. "It is quite absurd. The whole thing is +absurd. But it has gone too far."</p> + +<p>Here Miss Burgoyne was called.</p> + +<p>"Will you leave it in my hands?" she said, leisurely rising from her +chair, and tucking up her long train so that she might safely pass into +the wings.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said he. "You have no right to know anything about it. +The quarrel was forced upon me; I had no<!-- Page 97 --><span class="pagenum">{97}</span> wish to harm your pretty boy, +nor have I much now—except in trying to keep myself from being harmed. +But that is all over now; and this thing has to be seen through to the +end now."</p> + +<p>He held open the door for her; and then he accompanied her along the +passage and up the steps, until they were both ready for their entrance +on the stage.</p> + +<p>"Men are so obstinate," said she, with an air of vexation; "so obstinate +and foolish. But I don't care; I'll see if I can't get something done; I +won't allow two dear friends of mine to do anything so stupid if I can +help it. Why, the idea!—getting into a quarrel with a harmless young +fellow like that! You ought to have been kind to him for my sake—for he +really is such a dear boy—so simple and good-natured—"</p> + +<p>"<i>But where is Grace?</i>" said a voice out there in the wide ball-room; +and as this was Miss Burgoyne's cue, she tripped lightly on to the stage +with her smiling answer: "<i>One kiss, papa, before the guests arrive.</i>" +And, as it turned out, there was no further opportunity of talk that +night between Miss Burgoyne and Mr. Lionel Moore.</p> + +<p>But two days thereafter, and just as Lionel was about to go out for his +morning ride, the house-porter brought him a card. It was Mr. Percival +Miles who was below.</p> + +<p>"Ask the gentleman to come up."</p> + +<p>Here were the preliminaries of battle, then. Lionel had a vague kind of +notion that the fire-eating youth ought not to have appeared in +person—that he ought to have been represented by a friend; however, it +was not of much consequence. He only hoped that there would be no +further altercation or throwing of ink-bottles; otherwise he considered +it probable that this interview would terminate in a more English manner +than the last.</p> + +<p>The young gentleman came in, hat in hand. He was apparently very calm +and dignified.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," said he, slowly, as if he were repeating words already +carefully chosen, "I am about to take an unusual course. I have been +asked to do so—I have been constrained to do so—by the one person +whose wish in such a matter must be respected. I have come to apologize +to you for my conduct of the other day."<!-- Page 98 --><span class="pagenum">{98}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Lionel, but somewhat coldly; he did not seem well +satisfied that this young man should get off so easily, after his +unheard-of insolence. Indeed, Lionel was very much in the position of +the irate old Scotchwoman whose toes were trodden upon by a man in a +crowd. "I beg your pardon," said the culprit. "Begging my paurdon 'll no +dae," was the retort, "I'm gaun to gie ye a skelp o' the lug!"</p> + +<p>"I hope you will accept my apology," the pale-faced young gentleman +continued in the same stiff and embarrassed manner. "I don't know +whether it is worth while my offering any excuse for what I did—except +that it was done under a misapprehension. The—the lady in question +seemed annoyed—perhaps I mistook the meaning of certain phrases she +used—and certainly I must have been entirely in error in guessing as to +what she wished me to do. I take the whole blame on myself. I acted +hastily—on the spur of the moment; and now I am exceedingly sorry; and +I ask your pardon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," Lionel said, though somewhat ungraciously. "But you see +you are getting rather the best of this performance. You come here with +a ridiculous cock-and-bull story, you threaten and vapor and kick up +mock-heroics, you throw a bottle of ink over a book belonging to a +friend of mine—and then you are to get off by saying two or three words +of apology!"</p> + +<p>"What can I do more?" said the humble penitent. "I have tried to +explain. I—I was as ready to fight as you could be; but—but now I obey +the person who has the best right to say what shall be done in such an +affair. I have made every apology and explanation I could; and I ask +your pardon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," Lionel said again.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me your hand, then?" Mr. Percival Miles asked; and he +somewhat timidly advanced a step, with outstretched palm.</p> + +<p>"That isn't necessary," said Lionel, making no other response.</p> + +<p>The fair-haired young warrior seemed greatly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"I—I was told—" he stammered; but Lionel, who was now inclined to +laugh, broke in on his confusion.</p> + +<p>"Did Miss Burgoyne say you weren't to come away without shaking hands +with me—is that it?" he asked, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Y—yes," answered the young gentleman, blushing furiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, there's no trouble about that," Lionel said,<!-- Page 99 --><span class="pagenum">{99}</span> and he +gave him his hand for a second; after which the love-lorn youth somewhat +hastily withdrew, and no doubt was glad to lose himself in the busy +crowd of Piccadilly.</p> + +<p>That same afternoon Lionel drove down to Sloane Street. He was always +glad to go along and have a friendly little chat about musical affairs +with the eagerly enthusiastic Nina; and, as this particular evening was +exceedingly fine and pleasant, he thought he might induce her to walk in +to the theatre by way of Belgrave Square and the Green Park. But hardly +had they left the house when Nina discovered that it was not about +professional matters that Lionel wanted to talk to her on this occasion.</p> + +<p>"Nina," said he, with befitting solemnity, "I have great news for you. I +am saved. Yes, my life has been saved. And by whom, think you? Why, by +Miss Burgoyne! Miss Burgoyne is the protecting goddess who has snatched +me away in a cloud just as my enemy was about to pin me to the earth +with his javelin."</p> + +<p>"There is to be no duel, Leo?" she said, quickly.</p> + +<p>"There is not," he continued. "Miss Burgoyne has forbidden it. She has +come between me and my deadly foe and held up a protecting hand. I don't +know that it is quite a dignified position for me to find myself in, but +one must recognize her friendly intentions, anyway. And not only that, +Nina, but she sent me a bottle of lemonade yesterday! Just think of it! +to save your life is something, but to send you lemonade as well—that +is almost too much goodness."</p> + +<p>Poor Nina! If this careless young man had only looked at the address on +the wrapper of the bottle he could easily have guessed whose was the +handwriting—especially recognizable in the foreign-looking <i>L</i> and <i>M</i>. +That timidly proffered little gift was Nina's humble effort at +compensation; and now he was bringing it forward as a proof of Miss +Burgoyne's great good-nature! And it was Miss Burgoyne who had +intervened to prevent this absurd duel—Miss Burgoyne, who knew nothing +at all about it until Nina told her! Nina, as they now walked along +towards Constitution Hill, was too proud to make any explanation; only +she thought he might have looked at the address on the wrapper.</p> + +<p>"Seriously," he said to his companion, "seriously, Nina, she has put me +under a very great obligation and shown herself very<!-- Page 100 --><span class="pagenum">{100}</span> magnanimous as +well. There is no doubt she was offended with me about something or +other; and she had the generosity to put all that aside the moment she +found I was embroiled in this stupid affair. And, mind you, I'm very +glad to be out of it. It would have looked ridiculous in the papers; and +everything gets into the papers nowadays. Of course that young idiot had +no right to go and tell her about the duel; but I suppose he wanted to +figure as a hero in her eyes—poor devil! he seems pretty bad about her. +Well, now that her intervention has got me out of this awkward scrape, +how am I to show my gratitude to her? what do you say, Nina?"</p> + +<p>But Nina had nothing to say.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing I can do for her," he continued. "You know how fond +actors and actresses are of titled folks. Well, Miss Burgoyne is going +down to Henley Regatta with a lot of other professionals, and I am going +too, with another party—Lady Adela Cunyngham has got a house-boat +there. Very well, if I can find out where Miss Burgoyne is—and I dare +say she will be conspicuous enough, though she's not very tall—I will +take Lord Rockminster to pay his respects to her and leave him with her; +won't that do! They have already been introduced at the theatre; and if +Rockminster doesn't say much, I have no doubt she will chatter enough +for both. And Miss Burgoyne will be quite pleased to have a lord all to +herself."</p> + +<p>"Leo," said Nina, gently, "do you not think you yourself have too much +liking for—for that fine company?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have," said he, with perfect good-humor. "What then? Are you +going to lecture me, too? Is Saul among the prophets? Has Maurice Mangan +been coaching you as well?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo," said she, "I should wish to see you give it all up—yes—all +the popularity—and your fine company—and that you go away back to +Pandiani—"</p> + +<p>"Pandiani!" he exclaimed. "Here's romance, indeed! You want us both to +become students again, and to have the old days at Naples back again—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" she said, shaking her head. "It is the future I think of. +I wish to hear you in grand opera or in oratorio—I wish to see you a +great artist—that is something noble, something ambitious, something to +work for day and night. Ah, Leo, when I hear Mr. Santley sing 'Why do +the nations'—when<!-- Page 101 --><span class="pagenum">{101}</span> I see the thousands and thousands of people sitting +entranced, then I say to myself, 'There is something grand and noble to +speak to all these people—to lift them above themselves, to give them +this pure emotion, surely that is a great thing—it is high, like +religion—it is a purification—it is—'" But here she stopped, with a +little gesture of despair. "No, no, Leo, I cannot tell you—I have not +enough English."</p> + +<p>"It's all very well," said he, "for you to talk about Santley; but where +will you get another voice like his?"</p> + +<p>"Leo, you can sing finer music than 'The Starry Night,'" she said. "You +have the capacity. Ah, but you enjoy too much; you are petted and +spoiled, yes? you have not a great ambition—"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I seem to have, though, Nina," said he. "I seem to +have a faculty of impressing my friends with the notion that I could do +something tremendous if only I tried; whereas I know that this belief of +theirs is only a delusion."</p> + +<p>"But you do not try, Leo," said this persistent counsellor. "No? life is +too pleasant for you; you have not enthusiasm; why, your talk is always +<i>persiflage</i>—it is the talk of the fashionable world. And you an +artist!"</p> + +<p>However, at this moment Lionel suddenly discovered that this leisurely +stroll was likely to make them late in getting to the theatre; so that +perforce they had to leave these peaceful glades of the Green Park and +get into Piccadilly, where they jumped into a hansom-cab and were +rapidly whirled away eastward.</p> + +<p>But if Lionel was to be reproached for his lack of ambition, that was a +charge which could not be brought against certain of those fashionable +friends of his at whom Nina (in unconscious collusion with Maurice +Mangan) seemed inclined to look askance. At the very height of the +London season Lady Adela Cunyngham and her sisters, Lady Sybil and Lady +Rosamund Bourne, had taken the town by storm; and it seemed probable +that, before they departed for Scotland, they would leave quite a trail +of glory behind them in the social firmament. The afternoon production +of "The Chaplet," in the gardens of Sir Hugh's house on Campden Hill, +had been a most notable festivity, doubtless; but then it was a +combination affair; for Miss Georgie Lestrange had shared in the honors +of the occasion; moreover, they had professional assistance given them +by Mr. Lionel Moore. It was when the three sisters attacked their own +particular pursuits<!-- Page 102 --><span class="pagenum">{102}</span> that their individual genius shone, and marked +success had attended their separate efforts. His royal highness, the +commander-in-chief, it is true, had not as yet invited the colonels of +the British army to recommend Lady Sybil's "Soldiers' Marching Song" to +the band-masters of the various regiments, but, in default of that, this +composition was performed nightly, as the concluding ceremony, at the +international exhibition then open in London; and as the piece was +played by the combined bands of the Royal Marines, with the drums of the +1st Battalion Grenadier Guards, the Highland Pipers of the 2d Battalion +Scots Guards, and the drums of the 2d Battalion Grenadier Guards, the +resultant noise was surely sufficient to satisfy the hungriest vanity of +any composer, professional or amateur, who ever lived. Then not only had +Lady Rosamund exhibited a large picture at the Lansdowne Gallery (a +decorative work this was, representing the manumission of a slave, with +the legend underneath, "<i>Hunc hominem liberum esse volo</i>"), but also the +proprietors of an illustrated weekly newspaper had published in their +summer number, as a colored supplement, what she had ventured to call +"An All-the-year-round Valentine." She had taken the following rhyme (or +perhaps some one had found it for her)—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"In these fair violets of the veins,</div> +<div class="verse">The verdure of the spring remains;</div> +<div class="verse">Ripe cherries on thy lips display</div> +<div class="verse">The lustre of the summer day;</div> +<div class="verse">If I for autumn were to seek,</div> +<div class="verse">I'd view the apples on thy cheek;</div> +<div class="verse">There's nought could give me pain in thee,</div> +<div class="verse">But winter in thy heart to see."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="noind">—and she had drawn four pretty little landscapes, which, when +reproduced on one sheet by chromo-lithography, looked very neat and +elegant, while the fair artist was much gratified to observe her name +figuring on the placards at railway-stations or on the boards in front +of stationers' shops, as she drove along Kensington High Street.</p> + +<p>But, of course, the crowning achievement of the gifted family was Lady +Adela Cunyngham's novel. If it was not quite the success of the season, +as far as the outer world was concerned, it certainly was the +most-talked-of book among Lady Adela's own set. Every character in it +was identified as somebody or<!-- Page 103 --><span class="pagenum">{103}</span> another; and although Lady Adela, as a +true artist, maintained that she did not draw individuals, but types, +she could not stem the tide of this harmless curiosity, and had to +submit to the half-humorous inquiries and flattering insinuations of her +friends. As for the outer world, if it remained indifferent, that only +showed its lack of gratitude; for here, there, and everywhere, among the +evening and weekly papers (the morning papers were, perhaps, too busy +with politics at the time), attention was drawn to Lady Arthur +Castletown's charming and witty romance of modern life. Alp called to +Alp, and deep to deep, throughout Satan's invisible world; "Kathleen's +Sweethearts" was dragged in (apparently with ten men pushing behind) for +casual allusion in "Our Weekly Note-book;" Lady Arthur's smart sayings +were quoted in the gossip attached to this or that monthly magazine; the +correspondent of a country journal would hasten to say that it was not +necessary to inform <i>his</i> readers that Lady Arthur Castletown was, in +reality, Lady Adela Cunyngham, the wife of the well-known breeder of +polled cattle, Sir Hugh Cunyngham of the Braes. In the midst of all this +Lionel went to his friend Maurice Mangan.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Maurice," said he, "that book can't be as bad as you tried +to make out."</p> + +<p>"It is the most insensate trash that was ever put between boards," was +the prompt reply.</p> + +<p>"But how can that be? Look at what the papers say!"</p> + +<p>"The papers—what papers? That isn't what the papers say—that is what +the small band of log-rollers say, calling industriously to one another, +like frogs in a pond. Didn't I tell you what would happen if you got +hold of Octavius Quirk, or any one of them? How many dinners did your +swell friends expend on Quirk?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. He is pretty often at the house."</p> + +<p>"He is pretty often at the house, is he?" Mangan repeated.</p> + +<p>"I hope they won't ask him to Scotland," Lionel said, ruefully. "I can't +bear the fellow; it's just as you say, he's always in a whirlwind of +insistence—about nothing; and he doesn't grin through a horse-collar, +he roars and guffaws through it. But then, you see, he has been very +kind about this book; and, of course, a new author, like Lady Adela, is +grateful. I admit what you say is right enough—perhaps the family are a +little anxious for notoriety; but so are a good many other people;<!-- Page 104 --><span class="pagenum">{104}</span> and +there's no great harm in writing or painting or composing music as well +as you can. Mind, I think there's a little professional jealousy about +you, Maurice," continued this sage Mentor. "You don't like a woman of +fashion to come into your literary circles. But why shouldn't she? I'm +sure I don't object when any one of them tries to produce a little +dramatic or musical piece; on the contrary, I would rather help. And +look at Mellord—the busiest painter of the day—look at the trouble he +takes in advising Lady Rosamund; she has the free <i>entrée</i> into his +studio, no matter who is sitting to him. I think, for amateurs, the work +of all the three sisters is very creditable to them; and I don't see why +they shouldn't like to have the appreciation of the public, just as +other people like it."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," Mangan said, but with obvious indifference, "do you +think I resent the fact of your friend Lady Arthur or Lady Adela writing +a foolish novel? Far from it. You asked my opinion of it, and I told +you; if you don't see for yourself that the book is absolute trash—but +harmless trash, as I think—then you are in a happy condition of mind, +for you must be easily pleased. Come, let's talk of something worth +talking about. Have you been down to Winstead lately?"</p> + +<p>"No—never since that Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, your people were awfully good to me," this long, lank, +lazy-looking man went on—but now he seemed more interested than when +talking about Lady Adela's novel. "I never spent a more delightful +evening—never. I wonder they did not turn me out, though; for I stayed +and stayed, and never noticed how late it was getting. Missed the last +train, of course, and walked all the way up to London; not a bit sorry, +either, for the night was cool, and there was plenty of starlight; I'd +walk twice as far to spend another such evening. I—I'm thinking of +going down there next Sunday," he added, with a little hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Lionel said, cordially enough.</p> + +<p>"You see," Mangan continued, still rather hesitatingly, "the fact +is—I'm rather in the way of getting illustrated papers—and—and summer +numbers—and children's books—I mean, when I want them, I can get +them—for lots of these things come to the newspaper offices, and +they're not much use to anybody; so I thought I would just make up a +parcel and send it down to Miss Frances, don't you understand, for her +sick children—"<!-- Page 105 --><span class="pagenum">{105}</span></p> + +<p>"I dare say you went and spent a lot of money." Lionel said, with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"And she was good enough to write back that it was just what she wanted; +for several of the children—most of them, I should say—couldn't read, +but they liked looking at pictures. And then she was kind enough to add +that if I went down next Sunday, she would take me to see how the things +had been distributed—the pictures hung up on walls, and so +forth—and—and that's why I think I may go down."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, certainly," Lionel said, though he did not understand why any +such excuse was necessary.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you come down, too, Linn?" Mangan suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I couldn't, I'm so busy," was the immediate reply. "I'm going +to Scotland the first or second week in August. The doctor advises me to +give my voice a long rest; and the Cunynghams have asked me to their +place in Ross-shire. Besides, I don't care about singing in London when +there's nobody but country cousins, and none too many of them. Of course +I'll have to go down and bid the old folks good-bye before starting for +Scotland, and Francie, too. Mind you tell that wicked Francie that I am +very angry with her for not having come up to see 'The Squire's +Daughter.'"</p> + +<p>"Linn," said his friend, after a second, "why don't you take the old +people over to Aix or some such place for a month? They're so awfully +proud of you; and you might take Miss Frances as well; she seems to work +so hard—she deserves a rest. Wouldn't that be as sensible as going to +Scotland?"</p> + +<p>"My good chap, I would do that in a moment—I should be delighted," said +he—for he was really a most generously disposed young man, especially +as regarded money; time was of greater consideration with him. "But it's +no use thinking of such a thing. The old folks are much too content with +home; they won't travel. And Francie—she wouldn't come away from those +precious babes. Well, I'm off. Mind you scold Francie for me!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Mangan, as he accompanied his friend to the door.</p> + +<p>So it was that on a certain evening in August, Lionel Moore drove up to +Euston Station and secured a sleeping-berth in the train going north; +and no doubt the consciousness that after a<!-- Page 106 --><span class="pagenum">{106}</span> long spell of hard work he +was entering upon a well-earned holiday was a very welcome and +comfortable thing. If only he had been a little more reflective, he +might have set to work (here in the railway-carriage, as he lit his +cigar, and proceeded to fix up his reading-lamp) and gone on to consider +how entirely satisfactory all his circumstances were at this moment. +Prince Fortunatus, indeed! Was ever any one more happily situated? Here +he was, young, full of health and high spirits, excellent-tempered, and +sufficiently good-looking; he had acquired a liberal measure of fame and +popularity; he had many friends; he had ample means, for he did not know +the difference between a backer and a layer, nor yet the difference +between a broker and a jobber—in fact, gambling, either in stocks or on +the turf, had never even occurred to him as a thing worth thinking +about. But there was something further than all this for which he ought +to have been profoundly grateful. As the long train thundered away into +the night, there was no dull misery of farewell weighing heavily upon +him; there were no longing fancies wandering wistfully back to a certain +house, a certain figure, a pair of too-eloquent eyes. He dragged no +lengthening chain with him on this journey north. For, notwithstanding +his pleasant companionship with Nina, and her constant sympathy with him +and her interest in his professional career; notwithstanding the +affectionate regard of his cousin Francie, which was none the less +sincere that it remained unspoken and only to be guessed at; +notwithstanding the somewhat jealous favor which the prima-donna of the +New Theatre seemed inclined to bestow on him; notwithstanding the pert +coquetries and fascinations of Miss Georgie Lestrange, to say nothing of +the blandishments and pettings showered upon him by crowds of ladies of +exalted rank, this fortunate young man (so far at least as he was +himself aware) was going away to Scotland quite heart-whole.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h4>IN STRATHAIVRON.</h4> + + +<p>It was still early in the afternoon when Lionel found himself driving +along a loftily-winding road overlooking the wide and<!-- Page 107 --><span class="pagenum">{107}</span> fertile valley of +the Aivron. Right down below him, and visible through the birch-trees, +was the river itself, of a brilliant, clear-shining blue, save where in +some more distant sweeps it shone a silver-white; on the other side of +the broad strath rose a range of hill fringed along its base with wood, +but terminating in the west in far altitudes of bare rock and heather; +while now and again he could catch a glimpse of some still more distant +peak or shoulder, no doubt belonging to the remote and mountainous +region of Assynt. And there, in the middle of the plain, stood the +shooting-lodge for which he was bound—a long, rambling building or +series of buildings, with all sorts of kennels and out-houses and +deer-houses attached; and as he was regarding this goal and aim of his +journey, and wondering how he was going to get across the swift-flowing +stream, behold! a white fluttering of handkerchiefs just outside the +porch. It was a signal to him, he knew; and he returned it more than +once—until, indeed, he discovered that his driver was leaving the road +and about to take the horses down a rudely cut track on the hillside.</p> + +<p>"I say, isn't there a bridge anywhere?" he asked; for he was not used to +such exploits.</p> + +<p>"Aw, no, there's no bridge," the old Highland driver said, coolly, as he +jammed down the brake. "But we'll do ferry well at the ford; the water +is not so high the now."</p> + +<p>"And when the water is high, what do they do then?" Lionel asked, as he +regarded with some concern the almost vertical pole and the straining +harness.</p> + +<p>"Aw, well, there uss a boat; and if there's a spate on the ruvver they +can come and go; but not with the heavy things. Ay, I hef seen tons of +coal waiting for them at Invershin for near a fortnight when there wass +a heavy spate on the ruvver. The leddies are so particular nowadays; +peat will not do for them for the cooking; naw, they must hef coal."</p> + +<p>But now the horses were entering the stream, and the old man's loquacity +ceased. The animals, however, seemed quite accustomed to this +performance; without any hesitation they adventured into the rapid +current, and splashed their way forward, getting such footing as was +possible among the big, loose stones and shingle. Indeed, the passage +was effected with very little trouble, if with a good deal of jolting +and bumping; and<!-- Page 108 --><span class="pagenum">{108}</span> thereafter there was a pleasant trot along some +sufficiently smooth greensward up to the door of the lodge.</p> + +<p>Yes, here were the three tall and handsome sisters, looking very +picturesque in their simple Northern attire? and here was Miss Georgie +Lestrange conspicuous in a Tam o' Shanter of bright blue; and no sooner +had the young man descended from the wagonette than they surrounded him, +laughing and questioning, and giving him the heartiest of welcomes. How +could he answer them all at once? When the poor man was taken into the +dining-room, and set down to his solitary luncheon, they were all for +waiting on him and talking to him at the same time.</p> + +<p>"It is so awfully kind of you to come," Lady Adela said, with one of her +most gracious smiles. "Now we shall hear about something else than dogs +and guns and grouse."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Moore," cried Lady Rosamund (who was the youngest, and had a +bit of a temper, and was allowed to interfere when she liked), "do you +know a masque called 'Alfred'? You do? how delightful! Well, then, you +remember the visions of the future kings and queens that pass before +Alfred when he is in the Isle of Athelney? how can I get that done in +the open air? What kind of gauze do you use in the theatre? Could you +get me a bit? And would painted shades do instead of living +persons?—you see we have so few people to come and go on up here."</p> + +<p>"And, Mr. Moore," cried Lady Sybil, "how are we to manage about an +accompaniment? A single violin is no use out in the open. Would it be +too dreadful if we had a harmonium concealed somewhere? We could get one +from Inverness; and you know a harmonium would do very well for the +music that introduces the visions."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," put in Miss Georgie Lestrange, with a complaining air, +"fancy their having given me another of Kitty Clive's characters; isn't +it too bad? Why, I'll go on and on until I identify myself with her +altogether; and then, you know, Kitty Clive wasn't—I'm afraid she +wasn't quite—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Clive was all right; she was a great friend of Dr. Johnson," +Lionel made answer, to reassure the young lady.</p> + +<p>"But I wish you girls would leave off chattering, and let Mr. Moore get +something to eat," the young matron said, impatiently; and she herself +was so kind as to go and fetch the claret jug from the glide-table and +fill his glass.<!-- Page 109 --><span class="pagenum">{109}</span></p> + +<p>However, there was peace in store for him. When he had finished with +this late lunch, Lady Adela begged him to excuse them if they left him +to shift for himself; they were busy dressmaking, she said. Would she +send for one of the keepers, who would show him one or two of the +nearest pools, so that he might try for a salmon? The gentlemen had all +gone down the strath, to test some new rifle, she thought; this was out +of consideration for her, for she could not bear shooting close to the +house; would he walk in that direction, and see what they were doing?</p> + +<p>"Don't you trouble," he said, instantly. "You leave me to myself. I like +to wander about and find out my surroundings. I shall go down to the +river, to begin with; I saw some picturesque bits higher up when we were +coming along."</p> + +<p>"You'll almost certainly find Honnor Cunyngham there," said Miss +Lestrange. "I suppose she has gone storking, as usual."</p> + +<p>"Stalking?" said he, in some amazement.</p> + +<p>"No, no—storking, as I call it. She haunts the side of the river like a +crane or a heron," said the red-haired damsel. "I think she would rather +land a salmon than go to heaven."</p> + +<p>"Georgie," said the young matron, severely, "you are not likely ever to +do either; so you needn't be spiteful. Come away and get to work. Mr. +Moore, we dine at eight; and, if you are anywhere up or down the strath, +you'll hear the bell over the stables rung at seven, and then at +half-past."</p> + +<p>So they went off and left him; and he was not displeased; he passed out +by the front door, lit a cigar, and strolled down towards the banks of +the Aivron. It was a bright and sweet-aired afternoon; he was glad to be +at the end of his journey; and this was a very charming, if somewhat +lonely, stretch of country in which he now found himself. The wide +river, the steep hillside beyond hanging in foliage, the valley +narrowing in among rocks and then leading away up to those far solitudes +of moorland and heather, broken only here and there by a single +pine—all these features of the landscape seemed so clear and fine in +color; there was no intervening haze; everything was vivid and +singularly distinct, and yet aërial and harmonious and retiring of hue. +But of course it was the stream—with its glancing lights, its living +change and motion, its murmuring, varying voice—that was the chief +attraction; and he wandered on by<!-- Page 110 --><span class="pagenum">{110}</span> the side of it, noting here and there +the long, rippling shallows where the sun struck golden on the sand +beneath, watching the oily swirls of the deep black-brown pools as if at +any moment he expected to see a salmon leap into the air, and not even +uninterested in the calm eddies on the other side, where the smooth +water mirrored the yellow-green bank and the bushes and the overhanging +birch-trees. He sat down for a while, listening absently to this +continuous, soothing murmur, perhaps thinking of the roar of the great +city he had left. He was quite content to be alone; he did not even want +Maurice Mangan to be discoursing to him—in those seasons of calm in +which questions, long unanswered, perhaps never to be answered, will +arise.</p> + +<p>Then he rose and went on again, for, from the high-road along which he +had driven, he had caught a glimpse of a wilder part of the glen, where +the river seemed to come tumbling down a rocky chasm, with some huge +boulders in mid-channel; and even now he could hear the distant, muffled +roar of the waters. But all of a sudden he stopped. Away along there, +and keeping guard (like a stork, as Miss Georgie Lestrange had +suggested) above the pool that lay on this side of the double waterfall, +was a young lady, her back turned towards him. So far as he could make +out, she wasn't doing anything; a long fishing-rod, with the butt on the +ground, she held idly in her right hand; while with her left hand she +occasionally shaded her face across towards the west—probably, as he +imagined, she was waiting for some of those smooth-sailing clouds to +come and obscure the too-fierce light of the sun. He knew who she was; +this must be Honnor Cunyngham, Lady Adela's sister-in-law; and of course +he did not wish to intrude on the young lady's privacy; he would try to +pass by behind her unobserved, though here the strath narrowed until it +was almost a defile.</p> + +<p>He was soon relieved from all anxiety. Sharper eyes than his own had +perceived him. The young lady wheeled round; glanced at him for a +second; turned again; and then a thin, tall, old man, who had hitherto +been invisible to him, rose from his concealment among the rocks close +to her and came along the river bank. He was a very handsome old man, +this superannuated keeper, with his keen, aquiline nose, his clear, gray +eyes, and frosted hair.<!-- Page 111 --><span class="pagenum">{111}</span></p> + +<p>"Miss Honnor says will you hef a cast, sir? There's some clouds will be +over soon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you, I could not dream of interrupting her," Lionel said; +and then it occurred to him that he ought to go and thank the young lady +herself for this frank invitation. "I—I'll go along and tell her so."</p> + +<p>As he walked towards her he kept his eye, somewhat furtively, on her, +though now she had turned her back again; and all he could make out was +that she had a very elegant figure; that she was tall—though not so +tall as her three sisters-in-law; and that her abundant brown hair was +short and curly and kept close to her head, almost like a boy's. Were +not her shoulders a trifle square-set for a woman?—but perhaps that +appearance was owing to her costume, for she wore a Norfolk jacket of +gray homespun that looked as if it could afford a good defence against +the weather. She was entirely in gray, in fact; for her short-skirted +dress was of the same material; and so also was the Tam o' Shanter, +adorned with salmon flies, that she wore on her shapely head of +golden-brown curls. Oh, yes, she looked sufficiently picturesque, +standing there against the glow of the western skies, with the long +salmon-rod in her right hand; but he was hardly prepared for what +followed. The moment that she heard him draw near, she wheeled round and +regarded him for a second—regarded him with a glance that rather +bewildered him by reason of its transparent honesty and directness. The +clear hazel eyes seemed to read him through and through, and yet not to +be aware of their own boldness; and he did not know why he was so glad +to hear that she had a soft and girlish voice, as she said,</p> + +<p>"You are Mr. Moore. I am Lady Adela's sister—of course you know. Won't +you take my rod? There will be some shadow very soon, I think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not—certainly not," said he. "But I should be delighted +if you would let me stay and look on; it would interest me quite as +much—every bit as much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, stay by all means," said she, turning to look at the western sky. +"But I wish you would take my rod. What are they all about to let you +come wandering out alone, on the first day of your arrival?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's quite right," said he, cheerfully. "Lady Adela and the young +ladies are all busy dressmaking."<!-- Page 112 --><span class="pagenum">{112}</span></p> + +<p>"Ye may be getting ready, Miss Honnor," old Robert interposed. "There'll +be a cloud over the sun directly."</p> + +<p>Thus admonished, the tall young fisher-maiden stepped down by the side +of a rock overhanging this wide, black-swirling pool, and proceeded to +get her tackle in order.</p> + +<p>"You know I'll give you my rod whenever you like to take a turn," said +she, addressing Lionel even as she was getting the fly on to the water. +"But we can't afford to waste a moment of shadow. I have done nothing +all day on account of the sunlight."</p> + +<p>And now the welcome shade was over, and, after a preliminary cast or two +to get the line out, she was sending her fly well across, and letting it +drift quietly down the stream, to be recovered by a series of small and +gentle jerks. Lionel was supposed to be looking on at the fishing; but, +when he dared, he was stealing covert glances at her; for this was one +of the most striking faces he had seen for many a day. There was a +curiously pronounced personality about her features, refined as they +were; her lips were proud—and perhaps a little firmer than usual just +now, when she was wielding a seventeen-foot rod; her clear hazel eyes +were absolutely fearless; and her broadly marked and somewhat square +eyebrows appeared to lend strength rather than gentleness to the +intellectual forehead. Then the stateliness of her neck and the set of +her head; she seemed to recall to him some proud warrior-maiden out of +Scandinavian mythology—though she was dressed in simple homespun and +had for her only henchman this quiet old Robert, who, crouching down +under a birch-tree, was watching every cast made by his mistress with +the intensest interest. And at last Lionel was startled to hear the old +man call out, but in an undertone—"Ho!"</p> + +<p>Honnor Cunyngham began coolly to pull in her line through the rings.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Lionel asked, in wonder.</p> + +<p>"I rose a fish then, but he came short," she said, quietly. "We'll give +him a rest. A pretty good one, wasn't he, Robert?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, he wass that, Miss Honnor, a good fish. And ye did not touch him?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; he'll come again sure enough."</p> + +<p>And then she turned to Lionel? and he was pleased to observe,<!-- Page 113 --><span class="pagenum">{113}</span> as she +went on to speak to him about her sisters-in-law and their various +pursuits, that, proud as those lips were, a sort of grave good-humor +seemed to be their habitual expression, and also that those +transparently honest, hazel eyes had a very attractive sunniness in them +when she was amused.</p> + +<p>"The dressmaking," she said. "Of course you know what that is about. +They are preparing another of those out-of-door performances. Oh, yes, +they are very much in earnest," she went on, with a smile that lightened +and sweetened the pronounced character of her face.</p> + +<p>"And you are to be entertained this time. They are not going to ask you +to do anything. Last time, at Campden Hill, you took a principal part, +didn't you?—but this time you are merely to be a guest—a spectator."</p> + +<p>"And which are you to be, Miss Cunyngham?" he made bold to ask.</p> + +<p>"I? Oh, they never ask me to join in those things," she said, pleasantly +enough. "The sacred fire has not descended on me. They say that I regard +their performances as mere childish amusement; but I don't really; it +isn't for a Philistine like myself to express disdain about anything. +But then, you see, if I were to try to join in with my clever sisters, +and perhaps when they were most in earnest, I might laugh; and +enthusiasts couldn't be expected to like that, could they?"</p> + +<p>She spoke very honestly and fairly, he thought, and without showing +anything like scorn of what she did not sympathize with; and yet somehow +he felt glad that he was not expected to take a part in this new masque.</p> + +<p>"From what I remember of it," said he, "I suppose it will be mostly a +pageant—there is plenty of patriotic sentiment in it, but hardly any +action, as far as I recollect. Of course, I know it chiefly because the +poet Thomson wrote it, or partly wrote it, and because he put 'Rule +Britannia' into it. Isn't it odd," he added, with a touch of adroit +flattery (as he considered), "that the two chief national songs of +England, 'Ye Mariners of England' and 'Rule Britannia' should both have +been written by Scotchmen?"</p> + +<p>She paid no heed to this compliment; indeed he might have known that the +old Scotch families (many of them of Norman origin, by the way) have so +intermarried with English families<!-- Page 114 --><span class="pagenum">{114}</span> that they have very little distinct +nationality, though they may be proud enough of their name. This young +lady was no more Scotch than himself.</p> + +<p>"I will try him again now," said she, with a glance at the water, and +forthwith she set to work with rod and line, beginning a few yards +farther up the stream, and gradually working down to where she had risen +the fish. As she came near the spot, Lionel could see that she was +covering every inch of water with the greatest care, and also that at +the end of each cast she let the fly hang for a time in the current. He +became quite anxious himself. Was she not quite close to the fish now? +Or had he caught too clear a glimpse of the fly on the previous +occasion, and gone away? Yes, she must be almost over him now; and yet +there was no sign. Or past him? Or he might have turned and gone a yard +or two farther down? Then, as this eagerly interested spectator was +intently watching the swirls of the deep pool, there was a sudden wave +on the surface, she struck up her rod slightly, and the next moment away +went her line tearing through the water, while the reel screamed out its +joyous note of recognition. Old Robert jumped to his feet. At the same +instant the fish made another appalling rush, far away on the opposite +side of the river, and at the end of it flashed into the air—a swift +gleam of purple-blue and silver that revealed his splendid size. Lionel +was quite breathless with excitement. He dared not speak to her, for +fear of distracting her attention. But she was apparently quite calm; +and old Robert looked on without any great solicitude, as if he knew +that his young mistress needed neither advice nor assistance. Meanwhile +the salmon had come back into the middle of the stream, where it lay +deep, only giving evidence of its existence by a series of vicious tugs.</p> + +<p>"I don't like that tugging, Robert," she said. "He knows too much. He +has pulled himself free from a fly before."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, I'm afraid of that too," old Robert said, with his keen eyes +fixed on every movement of the straining line.</p> + +<p>Then the fish lay still and sulked; and she took the opportunity of +moving a little bit up-stream and reeling in a yard or two.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to take the rod now, Mr. Moore?" she said, generously.<!-- Page 115 --><span class="pagenum">{115}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not," he exclaimed. "I would not for worlds you should +lose the salmon—and do you think I could take the responsibility?"</p> + +<p>He ceased speaking, for he saw that her attention had once more been +drawn to the salmon, which was now calmly and steadily making up-stream. +He watched the slow progress of the line; and then, to his horror, he +perceived that the fish was heading for the other side of a large gray +rock that stood in mid-channel. If he should persist in boring his way +up that farther current, would not he inevitably cut the line on the +rock? What could she do? Still nearer and nearer to the big boulder went +that white line, steadily cutting through the brown water; and still she +said not a word, though Lionel fancied she was now putting on a heavier +strain. At last the line was almost touching the stone; and there the +salmon lay motionless. He was within half a yard of certain freedom, if +only he had known; for the water was far too deep to allow of old Robert +wading in and getting the line over the rock. But just as Lionel, far +more excited than the fisher-maiden herself, was wondering what was +going to happen next, the whole situation of affairs was reversed in a +twinkling; the salmon suddenly turned and dashed away down-stream until +it was right at the end of the pool, and there, in deep water on the +other side, it resumed its determined tugging, so that the pliant top of +the rod was shaken as if by a human hand.</p> + +<p>"That is what frightens me," she said to Lionel. "I don't like that at +all."</p> + +<p>But what could he do to help her? Eager wishes were of no avail; and yet +he felt as if the crowning joy of his life would be to see that splendid +big fish safely out there on the bank. All his faculties seemed to be +absorbed in the contemplation of that momentous struggle. The past and +the future were alike cut off from him—he had forgotten all about the +theatre and its trumpery applause—he had no thought but for the unseen +creature underneath the water, that was dashing its head from side to +side, and then boring down, and then sailing away over to the opposite +shallows, exhausting every manœuvre to regain its liberty. He could not +speak to her; what was anything he could say as compared with the +tremendous importance of the next movement on the part of the fish? But +she was calm enough.<!-- Page 116 --><span class="pagenum">{116}</span></p> + +<p>"He doesn't tire himself much, Robert," she said. "He keeps all his +strength for that tugging."</p> + +<p>But just as she spoke the salmon began to come into mid-stream again, +and she stepped a yard or two back, reeling in the line swiftly. Once or +twice she looked at the top of the rod: there was a faint strain on, +nothing more. Then her enemy seemed inclined to yield a little; she +reeled in still more quickly; knot after knot of the casting-line +gradually rose from the surface; at last they caught sight of a dull, +bronze gleam—the sunlight striking through the brown water on the side +of the fish. But he had no intention of giving in yet; he had only come +up to look about him. Presently he headed up-stream again—quietly and +steadily; then there was another savage shaking of his head and tugging; +then a sharp run and plunge; and again he lay deep, jerking to get this +unholy thing out of his jaw. Lionel began to wonder that any one should +voluntarily and for the sake of amusement undergo this frightful +anxiety. He knew that if he had possession of the rod, his hands would +be trembling; his breath would be coming short and quick; that a +lifetime of hope and fear would be crowded into every minute. And yet +here was this girl watching coolly and critically the motion of the +line, and showing not the slightest trace of excitement on her finely +cut, impressive features. But he noticed that her lips were firm; +perhaps she was nerving herself not to betray any concern.</p> + +<p>"I think I am getting the better of him, Robert," said she, presently, +as the fish began to steer a little in her direction.</p> + +<p>"I would step back a bit, Miss Honnor," the keen-visaged old gillie +said; but he did not step back; on the contrary, he crouched down by the +side of a big boulder, close to the water, and again he tried his gaff, +to make sure that the steel clip was firmly fixed in the handle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf116" id="illusf116"></a> +<img src="images/illusf116.jpg" alt=""And yet here was this girl watching coolly and critically the motion of the line."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>And yet here was this girl watching coolly and critically the motion of the line.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>Yes, there was no doubt that the salmon was beaten. He kept coming +nearer and nearer to the land, led by the gentle, continuous strain of +the pliant top, though ever and anon he would vainly try to head away +again into deep water. It was a beautiful thing to look at: this huge, +gleaming creature taken captive by an almost invisible line, and +gradually yielding to inevitable fate. Joy was in Lionel's heart. If he +had wondered that any one, for the sake of amusement, should choose to +undergo<!-- Page 117 --><span class="pagenum">{117}</span> such agonies of anxiety, he wondered no more. Here was the +fierce delight of triumph. The struggle of force against skill was about +over; there was no more tugging now; there were no more frantic rushes +or bewildering leaps in the air. Slowly, slowly the great fish was being +led in to shore. Twice had old Robert warily stretched out his gaff, +only to find that the prize was not yet within his reach. And then, just +as the young lady with the firm-set lips said, 'Now, Robert!' and just +as the gaff was cautiously extended for the third time, the salmon gave +a final lurch forward, and the next instant—before Lionel could tell +what had happened—the fly was dangling helplessly in the air, and the +fish was gone.</p> + +<p>"<i>Au Yeea!</i>" said Robert, in an undertone, to himself; while Lionel, as +soon as he perceived the extent of the catastrophe, felt as though some +black horror had fallen over the world. He could not say a word; he +seemed yearning to have the fish for one second again where he had +lately seen it—and then wouldn't he have gladly jumped into the stream, +gaff in hand, to secure the splendid trophy! But now—now there was +nothing but emptiness and a lifeless waste of hurrying water.</p> + +<p>And as regards the young lady? Well, she smiled—in a disconcerted way, +to be sure; and then she said, with apparent resignation,</p> + +<p>"I almost expected it. I never do hope to get a tugging salmon; all the +way through I was saying to myself we shouldn't land him. However, +there's no use fretting over lost fish. We did our best, Robert, didn't +we?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed you could not hef done better, Miss Honnor," said the old +gillie. "There wass no mistake that you made at ahl."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said she, cheerfully; and she looked in a kindly way +towards the old man. "I did everything right? and as for you, no one +will tell me that the best gillie in Ross-shire did anything wrong; so +we have nothing to reproach ourselves with, Robert, have we?"</p> + +<p>"But it is such a dreadful misfortune!" exclaimed Lionel, who could +hardly understand this equanimity. "Another couple of seconds, and you +must have had him."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, Robert," said she, briskly, "shall we go up and try the tail +of the Long Pool? Or go down to the Stones?"</p> + +<p>"We'll chist go up to the tail of the Long Pool, Miss Honnor,"<!-- Page 118 --><span class="pagenum">{118}</span> said he; +and he took the rod from her, picked up her waterproof, and set out; +while Lionel, without waiting for any further invitation, accompanied +her.</p> + +<p>And as they walked along, picking their way among boulders and bracken +and heather, he was asking her whether the heart-breaking accidents and +bitter disappointments of salmon-fishing were not greater than its +rewards; as to which she lightly made answer:</p> + +<p>"You must come and try. None of the gentlemen here are very eager +anglers; I suppose they get enough of salmon-fishing in the spring. Now +if you care about it at all, one rod is always enough for two people, +and we could arrange it this way—that you should take the pools where +wading is necessary. They'll get a pair of waders for you at the lodge. +At present old Robert does all the wading that is wanted; but of course +I don't care much about playing a fish that has been hooked by somebody +else. Now, you would take the wading pools."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said he, "but I'm afraid I should show myself such a +duffer. I used to be a pretty fair trout-fisher when I was a lad," he +went on to say; and then it suddenly occurred to him that the offer of +her companionship ought not to be received in this hesitating fashion. +"But I shall be delighted to try my hand, if you will let me; and of +course you must see that I don't disturb the best pools."</p> + +<p>So they passed up through the narrow gorge, where the heavy volume of +water was dashing down in tawny masses between the rocks, and got into +the open country again, where the strath broadened out in a wide expanse +of moorland. Here the river ran smooth between low banks, bordered now +and again by a fringe of birch, and there was a greater quiet +prevailing, the farther and farther they got away from the tumbling +torrents below. But when they reached the Long Pool no fishing was +possible; the afternoon sun struck full on the calm surface of the +water; there was not a breath of wind to stir the smooth-mirrored blue +and white; they could do nothing but choose out a heathery knoll on the +bank, and sit down and wait patiently for a passing cloud.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said she, clasping her fingers together in her lap—"I +suppose you are all eagerness about to-morrow morning?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not going shooting to-morrow," said he.<!-- Page 119 --><span class="pagenum">{119}</span></p> + +<p>"What!" she exclaimed. "To be on a grouse-moor on the Twelfth, and not +go out?"</p> + +<p>"It is because it is the Twelfth; I don't want to spoil sport," said he, +modestly. "And I don't want to make a fool of myself either. If I could +shoot well enough, and if there were a place for me, I should be glad to +go out with them; but my shooting is, like my fishing, a relic of +boyhood's days; and I should not like to make an exhibition of myself +before a lot of crack shots."</p> + +<p>"That is only false pride", said she, in her curiously direct, +straightforward way. "Why should you be ashamed to admit that there are +certain things you can't do as well as you can do certain other things? +There is no particular virtue in having been brought up to the use of a +gun or rod. Take your own case. You are at home on the stage. There you +know everything—you are the master, the proficient. But take the crack +shots and put them on the stage, and ask them to do the simplest +thing—then it is their turn to be helpless, not to say ridiculous."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said he, rather tentatively, "you mean that we should all of +us keep to our own walks in life?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't mean anything of the kind," said she, with much +frankness. "I only mean that if you are not a first-rate shot, you need +not be ashamed of it; you should remember there are other things you can +do well. And really you must go out to-morrow morning. My brother was +talking about it at breakfast; and I believe the proposal is that you go +with him and Captain Waveney. If any little mistake is made, Captain +Waveney is the man to retrieve it—at least so I've heard them say."</p> + +<p>"At all events," said he, "if I go with them at all, it will not be +under false pretences. I shall warn them, to begin with, that I am a bad +shot; then I can't be found out. And they must put me in a position +where I can't do much harm."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you shoot very well," she said, with a smile. "Gentlemen +always talk like that on the evening before the Twelfth, if they have +come to a strange moor."</p> + +<p>But now she had risen again, for a breath of wind was stirring along the +strath, while some higher air-currents were slowly bringing certain +fleecy clouds across from the west. As soon<!-- Page 120 --><span class="pagenum">{120}</span> as the welcome shade had +stolen over the river, she began to cast; and on this smooth water he +could see more clearly what an excellent line this was that she sent +out. Not a long line—perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four yards—but +thrown most admirably, the fly lighting on the surface like a snowflake. +Moreover, he was now a little bit behind her, so that he could with +impunity regard the appearance of this newly-found companion—her lithe +and agile form, the proud set of her neck and head, the beautiful close +masses of her curly, golden-brown hair, and the fine contour of her +sun-tanned cheek. Then the vigorous exercise in which she was engaged +revealed all the suppleness and harmonious proportions of her figure; +for here was no pretty wrist-work of trout-fishing, but the wielding of +a double-handed salmon-rod; and she had taught herself the gillies' +method of casting—that is to say, she made the backward cast by +throwing both arms right up in the air, so that, as she paused to let +the line straighten out behind, her one hand was on a level with her +forehead, and the other more than a foot above that. Lionel thought that +before he tried casting in the presence of Miss Honnor Cunyngham, he +should like to get a few quiet lessons from old Robert.</p> + +<p>However, all this expenditure of skill proved to be of no avail. She +could not move a fin; nor had Robert any better luck, when, they having +come to a shallow reach, she allowed the old man, who was encased in +waders, to get into the water and fish along the opposite bank. When he +came ashore again, his young mistress said,</p> + +<p>"Dame Fortune hasn't forgiven us for letting that first one go." And old +Robert, who had probably never heard of Dame Fortune (or may have +considered the phrase a polite and young-lady-like form of swearing), +merely made answer,</p> + +<p>"Ay, Miss Honnor, we'll go and try the Small Pool, now."</p> + +<p>The Small Pool lies between the Long Pool and the Rock Pool; it is a +circular, deep, black hole, in which the waters collect before dashing +and roaring down between the great gray boulders; and to fish it you +must get out on certain knife-like ledges that seem to offer anything +but a secure foothold. However, Miss Honnor did not think twice about +it; and, indeed, as she made her way out on those narrow slips of rock, +Lionel perceived that her boots, which were laced in front like men's<!-- Page 121 --><span class="pagenum">{121}</span> +boots, if they were small enough as regarded that portion covering the +foot, were provided with most sensibly wide soles, which, again were +studded with nails. And there, balancing herself as best she might, she +got out a short line, and began industriously to cover every inch of the +surging and whirling water. A most likely-looking place, Lionel thought +to himself, as he sat and looked on. But here also they were doomed to +disappointment. It is true she hooked a small sea-trout—and was +heartily glad when it shook itself free, thereby saving her time and +trouble. All the rest of her labor was expended for nothing; so finally +she had to reel up and make her way ashore, where she surrendered her +rod to the old gillie.</p> + +<p>Then they passed down through the narrow defile again and came in view +of the wide path—now all saffron-tinted in the evening sunlight—with +the lodge and its straggling dependencies in the midst of the plain. +Perhaps it was this sight of the house that recalled to her what they +had been talking of some time before; for, as they walked along the +river-bank, she was again urging him to go out on the following morning; +and not only that, but she declared he must have one or two days' +deer-stalking while he was in the North. If he missed, then he missed; +why should he care what foresters and gillies thought of him? Of course +he was very grateful to her for all her kind patronage; but he could not +help thinking it rather odd to find a woman lending courage to a +man—counselling him to be independent and to have no fear of ridicule.</p> + +<p>"I recollect," he said to her, "once hearing Lord Rockminster say that +until a man has gone deer-stalking he can have no idea what extremes of +misery a human being is capable of enduring."</p> + +<p>"Lord Rockminster is incurably lazy," she said. "I think if you found +yourself riding along this strath some night about eight or nine +o'clock, knowing that away up among the hills you had left a stag of ten +or twelve points to be sent for and brought down the next morning—then +I think you wouldn't be reflecting on the discomforts you had gone +through, or, if you did, it would be with pride. Why," said she, "you +surely didn't come to the Highlands to play at private theatricals?"</p> + +<p>"I get enough of the theatre in the South," he said, "as you may well +imagine."</p> + +<p>But here was a bend of the river sheltered from the weltering<!-- Page 122 --><span class="pagenum">{122}</span> sun by a +steep and wooded hill; and Miss Cunyngham, at old Robert's suggestion, +began work again. It was really most interesting to watch this graceful +casting; Lionel, sitting down on the heather and smoking a cigarette, +seemed to want no other occupation; he forgot what the object of +throwing a fly was, the throwing of the fly seemed to be enough in +itself. He had grown to think that all these oily sweeps of brown water, +touched here and there by dark, olive-green reflections, were useful +only as showing where the fly dropped; there was no fish watching the +slow jerking of the "Bishop" across the current; the one salmon that +haunted the Rock Pool had put in an appearance and gone away long ago. +But suddenly there was a short, sharp scream of the reel; then silence.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Robert?" she said—apparently holding on to something. +"Another sea-trout?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Miss Honnor, I am not thinking that—"</p> + +<p>The words were hardly out of his mouth when it became abundantly clear +that the unknown creature in the deeps had not the least intention of +concealing his identity. A sudden rush down-stream, followed by a wild +splashing and thrashing on the surface, was only the first of a series +of performances that left Miss Honnor not one single moment of +breathing-space. Either she was following him rapidly down the river, or +following him up again, or reeling in swiftly as he came sailing towards +her, or again she could only stand in breathless suspense as he flung +himself into the air and then beat and churned the water, shaking the +line this way and that.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you wicked little wretch!" she cried, at a particularly vicious +flourish out of the water; but this was the kind of fish she liked; this +was a fish that fought fair—a gentlemanly fish, without the thought of +a sulk in him—a very Prince Rupert even among grilse; this was no +malevolent, underhand, deep-boring tugger. Indeed, these brilliant +dashes and runs and summersaults soon began to tell The gallant little +grilse was plainly getting the worst of it. He allowed himself to be +led; but, whenever she stepped back on the bank and tried to induce him +to come in, at the first appearance of shallow water he would instantly +sheer off again with all the strength that was left in him. Fortunately +he seemed inclined to head up-stream; and she humored him in that, for +there the water was deeper under<!-- Page 123 --><span class="pagenum">{123}</span> the bank. Even then he fought +splendidly to the last. As soon as he got to recognize that an enemy was +waiting for him—an enemy armed with some white, shining thing that he +more than once warily slipped out of—he would make struggle after +struggle to keep away—until at last there was a sudden, swift, decisive +stroke of the steel clip, and Robert had his glittering prize safely +ashore.</p> + +<p>"What o'clock is it, Mr. Moore?" said Miss Honnor—but she seemed +pleased with the result of this brisk encounter.</p> + +<p>He looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Half-past seven," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I thought I heard the first bell; we must make haste home. Not but +that my sisters are very good to me," she continued, as she took the fly +that Robert handed her and stuck it in her Tam o' Shanter; "if I happen +to have got hold of a fish, I am allowed to come in to dinner anyhow. +And then, you know, there is no great ceremony at this bungalow of a +place; it's different at the Braes, if Lady Adela happens to have a +large house-party—then I have to behave like other folk. What do you +say, Robert—seven pounds? Well, he made a good fight of it. And I'm +glad not to be going home empty-handed."</p> + +<p>So Lionel picked up her waterproof and put it over his arm; she +shouldered her fishing-rod, after having reeled in the line; the +handsome old gillie brought up the rear with the gaff and the slung +grilse; and thus equipped the three of them set out for the +lodge—across the wide valley that was now all russet and golden under +the warm light still lingering in the evening skies.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h4>THE TWELFTH.</h4> + + +<p>When Lionel went down early next morning, he found Lady Adela's father +in sole possession; and was not long in discovering that the old earl +was in a towering rage.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning!" said this tall, pale, stooping-shouldered old gentleman, +whose quite hairless face was surmounted by a brown wig. "Well, what do +you think of last night's performance? What do you think of it? Did you +ever know of any such gross<!-- Page 124 --><span class="pagenum">{124}</span> outrage on common decency? Why, God bless +my soul and body, I never heard of such a thing!"</p> + +<p>Lionel knew quite well what he meant. The fact was that a Free Church +minister whom Sir Hugh Cunyngham had met somewhere had called at Aivron +Lodge; as the custom of that part of the country is, he was invited to +stay to dinner; he sat late, told many stories, and drank a good deal of +whiskey, until it was not judged prudent to let him try to get his pony +across the ford, even if hospitality had not demanded that he should be +offered a room for the night; and then, when every one was thinking of +getting away to bed, the worthy man must needs insist on having family +worship, to which the servants had also to be summoned. It was the +inordinate length of this service at such a time of night that had +driven old Lord Fareborough to the verge of madness.</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" he said to Lionel, in tones of deep and bitter +indignation. "Look at me—a skeleton—a wreck of a human being, who can +only get along by the most careful nursing of his nervous system. My +heart is affected; I have serious doubts about the state of my lungs? it +is only through the most assiduous nursing of my nerves that +I exist at all. And what is more maddening than enforced +restraint—imprisonment—no chance of leaving the room, with all those +strange servants at the door; why, God bless my soul, I call it an +outrage! I yield to no one in respect for the cloth, whether it is worn +by a Presbyterian, or a Catholic, or one of my own church; but I say +that no one has a right to thrust religious services down my throat! +What the devil did Cunyngham mean by asking him to stay to dinner at +all?"</p> + +<p>"As I understand it," said Lionel, with a becoming diffidence, "it was +some suggestion of Captain Waveney's. He said the Free Church ministers +were particular friends of the crofters—and of course the good-will of +the crofters is of importance to a shooting-tenant—"</p> + +<p>"The good-will of the crofters!" the bewigged old nobleman broke in, +impatiently. "Are you aware, sir, that the Strathaivron Branch of the +Land League met last week and passed a resolution declaring salmon to be +ground-game? What are you to do with people like that? How are you to +reason with them? What is the use of pacifying them? They are in the +hands of<!-- Page 125 --><span class="pagenum">{125}</span> violent and malevolent revolutionaries—it is war they +want—it is 1789 they want—it is plunder and robbery and confiscation +they want—and the right of every man to live idle at the cost of the +state! Why, God bless my soul! the idea that you are to try to pacify +these ignorant savages—"</p> + +<p>But here Lionel, who began to fancy that he had discovered another +Octavius Quirk, was afforded relief; for the minister himself appeared; +and at the very sight of him Lord Fareborough indignantly quitted the +room. The minister, who was a rather irascible-looking little man with a +weather-reddened face and rusty whiskers, inquired of Lionel whether it +was possible to procure a glass of milk; but when Lionel rang the bell +and had some brought for him, the minister observed that milk by itself +was a dangerous thing in the morning; whereupon the butler had to be +sent for, who produced the spirit-decanter; and then, and finally, the +minister, boldly discarding the milk altogether, poured out for himself +a good solid dram, and drank it off with much evident satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Now the ladies began to make their appearance, some of them going along +to the gun-room to hear what the head keeper had to say, others of them +trooping out by the front door to guess at the weather. Among the latter +was Miss Honnor Cunyngham; and Lionel, who had followed her, went up to +her.</p> + +<p>"A beautiful morning, isn't it?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's too beautiful," said she, in reply. "Look up there."</p> + +<p>And she was right. This was far too picturesque and vivid a morning to +portend well for a shooting-day. Down at the farther end of the strath, +the skies were banked up with dark and heavy clouds; the lake-like sweep +of the river was of a sombre and livid blue; and between the indigo +stream and the purple skies, a long neck of land, catching the sunlight, +burned the most brilliant gold. And even as they stood and looked, a +faint gray veil gradually interposed between them and the distant +landscape; a rainbow slowly formed, spanning the broad valley; and then +behind the fairy curtain of the shower they could see the yellow +river-banks, and the birchwoods, and the farther-stretching hills all +vaguely and spectrally shining in the sun.</p> + +<p>"But this is a very peculiar glen," said she. "It often<!-- Page 126 --><span class="pagenum">{126}</span> threatens like +that when it means nothing. You may get a perfectly dry, still day after +all. And, Mr. Moore, may I ask you if what you said about your shooting +yesterday afternoon was entirely true or only a bit of modesty?"</p> + +<p>"If it comes to that," he said, "I never shot a grouse in my life—no, +nor ever shot <i>at</i> one."</p> + +<p>"Because," she continued, with a certain hesitation which was indeed far +removed from her usual manner, "because you—you seem rather sensitive +to criticism—to other people's opinion—and if you wouldn't think it +impertinent of me to offer you some hints—well, for what they are +worth—"</p> + +<p>"But I should be immensely grateful!" he answered at once.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, in an undertone, so that no one should overhear, "you +know, on the Twelfth, with such still weather as we have had for the +last week or two, the birds are never wild; you needn't be in the least +anxious; you won't be called upon for snap-shots at all; you can afford +to take plenty of time and get well on to the birds before you fire. You +see, you will be in the middle; you will take any bird that gets up in +front of you; my brother and Captain Waveney will take the outside ones +and the awkward cross-shots. And if a covey gets up all at once, they +won't expect you to pick out the old cock first; they'll do all that; in +fact, you must put yourself at your ease, and not be anxious, and +everything will be right."</p> + +<p>"Honnor!" called Lady Adela, "Come away at once—breakfast is in." So +that Lionel had no proper opportunity of thanking the young lady for her +friendly counsel and the interest she took in his small affairs.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was a merry meal; for, as soon as the things had been brought +in, the servants were allowed to leave; and while Lady Adela poured out +the tea and coffee, the gentlemen carved for themselves at the sideboard +or handed round the dishes at table. The Rev. Mr. MacNachten, the little +Free Church minister, was especially vivacious and humorous, abounding +with facetious anecdotes and jests and personal reminiscences; until, +observing that breakfast was over, he composed his countenance and +proceeded to return thanks. The grace (in spite of Lord Fareborough's +nervous qualms) was comparatively a short one; and at the end of it they +all rose and were for going their several ways.<!-- Page 127 --><span class="pagenum">{127}</span></p> + +<p>But this was not to the minister's mind.</p> + +<p>"Your leddyship," said he, addressing his hostess in impressive tones, +"it would be ill done of us to be assembled on such an occasion without +endeavoring to make profitable use of it. I propose to say a few words +in season, if ye will have the kindness to call in the servants."</p> + +<p>Lady Adela glanced towards her husband with some apprehension on her +face (for she knew the importance attached to the morning of the +Twelfth); but whatever Sir Hugh may have thought, he made no sign. +Accordingly there was nothing for it but that she should ring the bell +and summon the whole household; and in a few minutes the door of the +room was surrounded by a group of Highland women-servants and gillies, +the English servants rather hanging back in the hall. The +breakfast-party had resumed their seats; but the minister remained +standing; and presently, when perfect silence had been secured, he +lifted up his voice in prayer.</p> + +<p>Well, it was a sufficiently earnest prayer, and it was listened to with +profound attention by the smart-looking lasses and tall and swarthy +gillies clustering about the door; but to the English part of his +audience its chief features were its curiously exhortatory and +argumentative character and also its interminable length. As the +minister went on and on, the frown of impatience on Lord Fareborough's +face deepened and deepened; he fretted and fumed and fidgeted; but, of +course, he could not bring disgrace on his son-in-law's house by rising +and leaving the room. Nor did it convey much consolation to the +sportsmen to hear the heavy tramp of the head keeper just outside the +windows; for they knew that Roderick must be making use of the most +frightful language over this unheard-of delay.</p> + +<p>But at last this tremendous oration—for it was far more of an oration +than a prayer—came to an end; and the congregation drew a long breath +and were about to seize their newly found liberty when the minister +quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>"We will now sing the Hundred and Twenty-First Psalm."</p> + +<p>"God bless my soul!" exclaimed Lord Fareborough, aloud; and Lady Adela +flushed quickly; for it was not seemly of her father to give way to such +anger before those keen-eyed and keen-eared Highland servants.</p> + +<p>However, the Rev. Mr. MacNachten took no heed. He began<!-- Page 128 --><span class="pagenum">{128}</span> to sing, in a +slow and raucous fashion, and to the melancholy tune of "Ballerma,"</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"'I to the hills will lift mine eyes,</div> +<div class="verse">From whence doth come mine aid;'"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="noind">and presently there came from the door a curious nasal wail, men and +women singing in unison, and seemingly afraid to trust their voices. As +for the people in the room no one tried to join in this part of the +service—no one except Honnor Cunyngham, who appeared to know the words +of the Psalm and the music equally well, for she accompanied the +minister throughout, singing boldly and simply and without shyness, her +clear voice making marked contrast with his raven notes. Nor was this +all; for, when the Psalm was finished, the minister said,</p> + +<p>"My friends, when it hath pleased the Lord that we should meet together, +we should commune one with another, to the perfecting of ourselves for +that greater assemblage to which I hope we are all bound." And then, +without further preface, he proceeded to exhort them to well-doing in +all the duties of life—as masters and mistresses, as servants, as +parents, as children, as brothers, as fellow-Christians; while at the +end of each rambling and emphatic passage there came in a verse from +Ecclesiastes: "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, +and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man."</p> + +<p>Alas! there was no conclusion to this matter. The little, violent-faced +minister warmed to his work, insomuch that several times he used a +Gaelic phrase the better to impress those patient listeners at the door, +while he paid less and less attention to the congregation in the room. +Indeed, the hopeless resignation that had at first settled down on some +of their faces had given place to a most obvious resentment; but what +did that matter to Mr. MacNachten, who was not looking their way? Again +and again Sir Hugh Cunyngham forlornly pulled out his watch, but the +hint was not taken. Lord Fareborough was beside himself with unrest; he +drummed his fingers on the table-cloth; he crossed one leg, and then the +other; while more than once he made a noise between his tongue and his +teeth, which fortunately could not be heard far amid the rolling periods +of the sermon. Captain Waveney, who was master of the ceremonies in all +that<!-- Page 129 --><span class="pagenum">{129}</span> concerned the shooting—even as he was Sir Hugh's right-hand man +in the matter of cattle-breeding at the Braes—on several occasions, +when a momentary pause occurred, jumped to his feet as if on the +assumption that the discourse was finished; but this ruse was quite +ineffectual, for the preacher took no notice of him. And meanwhile the +huge figure of Roderick Munro could be seen marching up and down outside +the windows, while a pair of wrathful eyes glared in from time to time; +and Lady Adela, noticing these baleful glances, began to hope that the +irate head keeper would not secretly instruct a gillie to go and throw +the minister into the river as he was crossing the ford on his way home.</p> + +<p>"May God forgive the scoundrel!" cried Lord Fareborough, when, the long +sermon at length being over and the small crowd allowed to disperse, he +was free to hasten along to the gun-room to get his boots. "And I am +expected to shoot after having my nerves tortured like this! Who are +going with me? Rockminster and Lestrange? Well, they must understand +that I will not be hurried and flurried—I say I will not be hurried and +flurried. I don't want to fall down dead—my heart won't recover this +morning's work for months to come? God bless my soul, who asked that +insolent scoundrel to stay the night? And what's that, Waveney—the +ladies coming out to lunch? The ladies coming out to lunch on the +Twelfth—and the day half over; they must be out of their senses!"</p> + +<p>"That is the arrangement," Captain Waveney said, with rather a rueful +laugh, as he, too, was lacing up his boots. "Lady Rosamund is going to +take a sketch of the luncheon-party."</p> + +<p>"Let her take a sketch of the devil!" said this very angry and +inconsiderate papa. "Why can't she do it some other day?—why the +Twelfth? Good heavens! is everything conspiring to vex and annoy me so +that I sha'n't be able to hit a haystack?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Hugh never says 'no' to anything that Lady Rosamund asks," observed +Captain Waveney, with much good-humor.</p> + +<p>"Sir Hugh be—" And here Lord Fareborough expressed a wish about his +son-in-law and host that was probably only a figure of speech.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know about that," the other replied, complacently, as he +went to the couch and removed the cloth laid over the guns to protect +them from the fine peat-dust (for a huge peat-fire<!-- Page 130 --><span class="pagenum">{130}</span> burned continuously +in this great gun-room, for the drying of garments brought home wet from +the shooting or fishing). "I don't know about that; but at present the +arrangement is that we lunch at the top of the Bad Step; and I believe +that Miss Cunyngham is coming back from the Junction Pool, so that Lady +Rosamund may have her sketch complete."</p> + +<p>Indeed, this untoward incident of the minister's misplaced zeal seemed +to throw a certain gloom over the small party to which Lionel soon found +himself attached, as it moved away from the house. The tall, +brown-bearded head keeper was in a sullen rage, though he could only +reveal his wrath in sharp little sentences of discontent. Sir Hugh had +also been put out at losing the best part of the morning; and Captain +Waveney, who was a dapper little man, full of brisk spirits, did not +care to talk to silent persons. As for Lionel, he was certainly very +nervous and anxious; but none the less resolved to remember and act upon +Honnor Cunyngham's advice. The tail of the procession was brought up by +a gillie leading, or rather holding in, two brace of remarkably handsome +Gordon setters, and another gillie in charge of a patient-eyed pony with +a couple of panniers slung over its back.</p> + +<p>However, the busy work of the day soon banished these idle regrets. When +they had climbed a bit of the hillside, and passed through a gate in a +rude stone wall, they stopped for a second to put cartridges in their +guns; the keeper had two of the dogs uncoupled; while the gillie, +putting a strap on the coupling of the other two, led them away to a +convenient knoll, where he lay down, the gillie with the pony following +his example. And scarcely had the two dogs begun to work this open bit +of moorland when one of them suddenly ceased its wide ranging—suddenly +as if it had been turned to stone; and then slowly, slowly it began to +draw forward, its companion, a younger dog, backing beautifully and +looking on with startled, watchful eyes. It was an anxious moment for +the famous young baritone of the New Theatre; for the dog was right in +front of him; and as the three guns, in line, stealthily moved forward, +he made sure that this bird was going to get up just before him. Despite +all his resolve to be perfectly cool and calm, his heart was beating +quickly; and again and again he was repeating to himself Honnor +Cunyngham's counsel, and wondering whether he would disgrace himself at<!-- Page 131 --><span class="pagenum">{131}</span> +the very outset, when some bewildering brown thing sprang from the +ground, there was a terrific whir, a crack from Captain Waveney's +gun—and away along there the grouse came tumbling down into the +heather. Almost at the same moment there was another appalling whir on +his right—followed by a bang from Sir Hugh's gun—and another bird fell +headlong. After the briefest pause for reloading, the setter, that had +obediently dropped at the first shot, was encouraged to go forward, the +guns warily following. But it turned out that this had been an outlying +brace of birds; the dogs were soon ranging freely again; Roderick picked +up the slain grouse, and the whole party went on.</p> + +<p>"Sorry you didn't get the first shot, Mr. Moore," said Sir Hugh, who was +a short, thick-set man, with a fresh-colored face, iron-gray hair, and +keen, light-blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wish the birds would all rise to you two," Lionel said. "Then I +shouldn't have to pitch into myself for missing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll soon get into the way of it," Sir Hugh said, good-naturedly. +"There's never much doing along this face."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet Bruce is on to something," Captain Waveney exclaimed, +suddenly. In fact, only one of the ranging setters was now in sight; and +Roderick had quickly run up to the top of a heathery knoll, to have them +both in view. At the same moment they saw him hold up his arm to warn +the inattentive Venus.</p> + +<p>"How, Venus! How, Venus!" he called, in a low voice; and immediately the +dog, observing that its companion was drawing on to a point, became +rigid.</p> + +<p>The guns were on the scene directly; and they were just in time; for, +with a simultaneous rattle of wings that seemed to fill the air, a small +covey of birds sprang from the heather and appeared to vanish into +space. At least Lionel saw nothing of the others; his attention was +concentrated on one that seemed to be flying away in a straight line +from him; and after pausing for half a second (during which he was +calling on himself to be cool) he pulled the trigger. To his +inexpressible satisfaction the bird stopped in mid-air and came down +with a thump on the heather, where it gave but one flutter and then lay +still. He turned to see what his companions had done, with their brisk +fusillade. But he could not make out. They were<!-- Page 132 --><span class="pagenum">{132}</span> still watching the +setter, that was again being encouraged to go on, lest a stray bird or +two might still be in hiding. However, the quest was fruitless. The +whole of the small covey had risen simultaneously. So Roderick picked up +the dead birds and put them on a conspicuous stone, at the same time +signalling to the gillie with the pony, who was slowly coming up. Then +the shooting-party went forward again.</p> + +<p>"How many birds rose then?" Lionel asked of his host.</p> + +<p>"Five."</p> + +<p>"And you got them all?" he said, judging by what he had seen the head +keeper pick up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we got them all. They spread out like a fan. Waveney got one +brace and I another. I suppose," he added, with a smile, "you were too +intent on your own bird to notice?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was," he said, honestly; but he was none the less elated, for he +knew that a good beginning would give him confidence.</p> + +<p>And it did. They were soon at a part of the moor where the fun grew fast +and furious; and, keeping as close as he could to certainties, or what +looked like certainties, he was doing fairly well. As for the other two, +he could only judge of their prowess by the birds the keeper picked up; +for he kept strictly to his own business and rarely adventured on a +second shot. But it was clear that both Sir Hugh and Captain Waveney +were highly pleased with the way things were going. There were plenty of +birds; they lay well; the dogs were working beautifully; and the bag was +mounting up at a rate that promised to atone for the delay of the +morning. In fact, they were now disposed to regard that episode as +rather a comical affair.</p> + +<p>"I say, Waveney," Sir Hugh remarked, as they paused for a moment to have +a sip of cold tea, for the day was hot, "you'd better confess it; you +put up the old minister to give us that frightfully long service this +morning. It was a joke on Lord Fareborough—now, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It may have been; but I had nothing to do with it, anyway," was the +answer. "Not I. Too serious a joke. I thought his lordship was going to +have a fit of apoplexy when he came into the gun-room."</p> + +<p>"My good fellow, don't talk like that!" the other exclaimed. "If you +mention apoplexy to him, he'll add that on to the hundred<!-- Page 133 --><span class="pagenum">{133}</span> and twenty +diseases and dangers that threaten his life every moment. Apoplexy! What +has he got already?—gout, asthma, heart disease, his lungs giving way, +his liver in a frightful condition, his nervous system gone to bits—and +yet, all the same, the old hypocrite is going to try for a stag before +he leaves. I suppose he'll want Roderick to carry him as soon as he +quits the pony! Well, come along, Mr. Moore; we've done pretty well so +far, I think."</p> + +<p>But it was not Lionel who needed any incitement to go forward; he was +far more eager than any of his companions, now that he had been +acquitting himself none so ill. Moreover, he had youth on his side and a +sound chest, while nature had not given him a pair of well-formed calves +for nothing; so that he faced the steep hillsides or got over the rough +ground with comparative ease, rejoicing the while in the unwonted +freedom of knickerbockers. It was Sir Hugh, with his bulky habit of +body, who got blown now and again; as for Captain Waveney, he was a +pretty tough subject and wiry. So they fought bravely on, to atone for +the inhuman detention of the morning; and by the time it was necessary +to make for the appointed luncheon rendezvous they had the wherewithal +to give a very excellent account of themselves.</p> + +<p>Now, several times during the morning they had come in view of the +Aivron, winding far below them through the wide strath, or narrowing to +a thread as it rose towards the high horizon-line in the west; and +always, when there was a momentary chance, Lionel's eye had sought these +distant sweeps and bends for some glimpse of the lonely angler-maiden, +and sought in vain. The long valley seemed empty; and some little +feeling of shyness prevented his asking his companions to point out the +Junction Pool, whither, as he understood, she had been bound in the +morning. And as they now approached the appointed place of meeting, he +was quite disturbed by the fancy that she might have strayed away into +unknown regions and be absent from this general picnic; and the moment +they came in sight of the group of people who were strolling about, or +looking on while the servants spread out the table-cloth on the heather +and brought forth the various viands, one swift glance told him she was +not present. Here was a disappointment! He wanted to tell her how he had +got on, under her kind instruction—this was his<!-- Page 134 --><span class="pagenum">{134}</span> own explanation of the +pang her absence caused him; but presently he had found another; for +Lady Rosamund was grouping the people for her sketch; and what would the +sketch be without Honnor Cunyngham in it? He made bold to say so.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't depend on Honnor," Lady Adela said. "She may have risen a +fish, or may have got hold of one. But if you want to know whether she +is likely to turn up, you might go out to that point, Mr. Moore, and +then you'll be able to see whether she is coming anywhere near the Bad +Step."</p> + +<p>Willingly enough he went down through the scattered birch-trees to a +projecting point overlooking the river from a very considerable height; +and there, right below him, he discovered what it was they called the +Bad Step. The precipice on which he stood going sheer down into the +Aivron, the path along the stream left the banks some distance off, came +up to where he stood, and then descended again by a deep gorge probably +cut by water-power through the slaty rock. And even as he was regarding +this twilit chasm it suddenly appeared to him that there were two +figures away down there, crossing the burn at the foot; and then one of +them, in gray—unmistakably the fisher-maiden herself—began the ascent. +How she managed to obtain a footing he could not make out; for the path +was no path, but merely a zig-zag track on the surface of the loose +shingle—shingle so loose that he could see it yield to her every step, +while the débris rolled away down to the bed of the burn. But still she +fought her way upward, and at last she stood face to face with him, +smiling, but a little breathless.</p> + +<p>"That's a frightful place to come up," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's nothing, when you know it," she said, lightly. "Tell me, how +did you get on this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks to you, I think I did pretty well," said he.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully glad of that," said she; and the soft, clear hazel eyes +repeated her words in their own transparent way.</p> + +<p>"I remembered all your instructions," he continued (and he was in no +hurry that Miss Cunyngham should go on to the luncheon-party; while old +Robert stood patiently by). "And I was very fortunate in getting easy +shots. Then when I did miss, either Sir Hugh or Captain Waveney was sure +to get the bird? I never saw such smart shooting."</p> + +<p>"What have you done?"<!-- Page 135 --><span class="pagenum">{135}</span></p> + +<p>"Altogether?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. The panniers are being emptied, to make a show for Lady +Rosamund's sketch. I fancy there are close on sixty brace of grouse, +with some blue hares and a snipe and a wild duck."</p> + +<p>"What has Lord Fareborough's party done?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know? they have just shown up—so you needn't hurry on unless +you are hungry."</p> + +<p>"But I am—very hungry," said she, with a laugh. "I have been hard at +work all the morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, in that case," he said, eagerly, "by all means come along, and I'll +get you something at once. You and I needn't wait for the emptying of +the other panniers. Oh, yes, that will do first-rate; I'm a duffer at +shooting, you know, Miss Cunyngham, but I'm a splendid forager at a +picnic. Let me carry the gaff for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you," she said, "I merely use it as a walking-stick +coming up the Bad Step."</p> + +<p>"And there," he exclaimed, as they went on through the birch-wood, "look +at the selfishness of men! You ask all about my shooting; but I never +asked what luck you had with your fishing."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had rather bad luck," she said, simply. "I lost a fish in +the Geinig Pool, after having him on for about five minutes, and I rose +another in the Horse-Shoe Pool and couldn't get him to come again all I +could do. But I mean to call upon him in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>A sudden inspiration flashed into his brain.</p> + +<p>"I should like to come and see you try for him," he said, quickly. "I +suppose they wouldn't mind my sending home my gun?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore!" she said, with her eyes downcast. "They'd think you were +mad to leave a shooting-party on the Twelfth. You can see a salmon +caught, or catch one yourself, any time."</p> + +<p>He felt a little bit snubbed, he hardly knew why; but of course she knew +what was right in all such things; and so he humbly acquiesced. Indeed, +he could not contest the point, for now they had come upon the +picnic-party, where luncheon was in full swing. Lord Fareborough had +declared on his arrival<!-- Page 136 --><span class="pagenum">{136}</span> that he would not wait for the completion of +his daughter's sketch; his nervous system was not to be tried in any +such fashion; luncheon must be proceeded with at once, and Lady Rosamund +could make her drawing when the gentlemen were smoking afterwards. Lady +Adela wanted to wait for Mr. Moore, but she, too, was overruled by the +impatient hypochondriac. So Lionel set to work to form a seat for Miss +Honnor, out of some bracken that the gillies had cut and brought along; +and also he exclusively looked after her—to Miss Georgie Lestrange's +chagrin; for Lord Rockminster was too lazy to attend to any one but +himself, and what girl likes being waited on by her brother when other +young men are about?</p> + +<p>And now the burly and broad-shouldered host of all these people called +on them to unanimously forgive the minister for the injury he had +unintentionally done them in the morning.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't the good man's fault at all; it was Waveney's," Sir Hugh +continued, as he got hold of a spoon and delved it into a pigeon-pie. "I +assure you it was a practical joke that Captain Waveney played upon the +whole of you. He gave the minister a little hint—and the thing was +done."</p> + +<p>Lord Fareborough glared at the culprit as if he expected to see the +heavens fall upon him; but Lady Adela observed, with a touch of dignity,</p> + +<p>"I hope I know Captain Waveney well enough not to believe that he would +turn any religious service into a practical joke."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, too, Lady Adela," the dapper little captain instantly +replied, though without any great embarrassment. "That's hardly my line +of country. But there's another thing: Sir Hugh may ask you to believe +anything, but he won't make you believe that I could trifle with such a +sacred subject as the morning of the Twelfth."</p> + +<p>"Faith, you're right there, Waveney," Sir Hugh said, with a laugh. +"Well, we've done our best to make up for the loss of time. And now, +Rose, if you want to have your sketch, fire away! I'm going to light a +pipe; but, mind, we sha'n't stop here very long. You'd better put in us +men at once; and then you can draw in the ladies and the game and the +luncheon at your leisure."</p> + +<p>"And if you want me, Rose," Honnor Cunyngham said,<!-- Page 137 --><span class="pagenum">{137}</span> "please put me in at +once, too; for I'm going away back to the Horseshoe Pool."</p> + +<p>"My dear child," Lady Adela protested, "you'll break your neck some day +going down that Bad Step. I really think Hugh should have a windlass at +the top and let people down by a rope. Now look alive, Rose, and get +your sketch begun; I can see the gentlemen are all impatient to be off. +And mind you have Mr. Moore rolling up a cigarette: it won't be natural +otherwise."</p> + +<p>She was right about one thing, anyway; the sportsmen were undoubtedly +impatient to be off; and it is to be feared that Lady Rosamund's sketch +suffered by the restlessness of her models. Indeed, after a very little +while, Lord Fareborough indignantly rose, and declared he never had +known a Twelfth of August so shamelessly sacrificed. He, for one, would +have no more of it. He called to the under-keeper to bring along the +gillies and the dogs; whereupon Lady Rosamund, who had a temper not +quite in consonance with the calm and statuesque beauty of her features, +closed her sketch-book and threw it aside, saying she would make the +drawing some other day when she found the gentlemen a little more +considerate.</p> + +<p>And soon Lionel and his two companions were at their brisk occupation +again; though ever and anon his thoughts would go wandering away to the +Horseshoe Pool, and his fancy was picturing the fisher-maiden on the +summit of a great gray boulder, while a fifteen-pounder raced and chased +in the black deeps below. Sometimes he tried to get a glimpse of the +upper stretches of the river; but this was a dangerous trick when all +his attention was demanded by the work on hand. In any case his scrutiny +of those far regions was unavailing; for the Horseshoe Pool is on the +Geinig, a tributary of the Aivron, and not visible from the hill-slopes +along which they were now shooting.</p> + +<p>The bag mounted up steadily; for the afternoon, despite the threats of +the morning, remained fine and clear and still; the birds lay close, and +the two outside guns were skilful performers. As for Lionel, he had now +acquired a certain confidence; he took no shame that he reserved for +himself the easy shots; the nasty ones he could safely leave to his +companions. At last, as they came in sight of a lovely little tarn lying +under a distant hillock, and could descry two small dots floating on the +surface of the water, Sir Hugh said to his head keeper,<!-- Page 138 --><span class="pagenum">{138}</span></p> + +<p>"See here, Roderick, are those duck or mergansers?"</p> + +<p>The keeper took a long look before he made reply.</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure, Sir Hugh, but I am thinking they are mergansers, for I +was seeing two or three lately."</p> + +<p>"Very well, call in the dogs. I'm going to sit down and have a pipe. I +suppose you'll do the same, Mr. Moore—though I must say this for you +that you can walk. You have the advantage of youth, and you haven't as +much to carry as I have. Well, I propose we have a few minutes' rest? +and we will occupy ourselves in watching Waveney stalk those mergansers. +There's a job for you, Waveney. They are the most detestable birds alive +to have near a forest or a salmon-stream."</p> + +<p>"Why, what harm can they do to the salmon?" Lionel asked, as he saw +Captain Waveney at once change the cartridges in his gun for No. 4's and +set off down the hillside.</p> + +<p>"They snap up the parr, of course," said his heavy-shouldered host, as +he drew out a wooden pipe and a pouch of black Cavendish, "but that +isn't the worst: they disturb the pools most abominably—swimming about +under water they frighten the salmon out of their senses. But when you +get them about a deer-forest they are a still more intolerable nuisance; +you are never safe; just as you are getting up to the stag, creeping +along the course of a burn, perhaps, bang! goes one of those brutes like +a sky-rocket, and the whole herd are instantly on the alert. Oh, that's +a job old Waveney likes well enough; and it will give the dogs a rest as +well as ourselves."</p> + +<p>By this time the stalker had got out of sight. He was making a +considerable detour, so as to get round by the back of the hillock +unobserved; and when he came into view again, he was on the other side +of the valley. The mergansers, if they were mergansers, were still +swimming about unsuspectingly, though sometimes at a considerable +distance apart.</p> + +<p>"Does Miss Cunyngham shoot as well as fish?" Lionel ventured to ask.</p> + +<p>"She has tried it," her brother said, as he called up Roderick and gave +him a dram out of his capacious flask. "And I think she might shoot very +well, but she doesn't care about it. It is too violent, she says. The +sudden bang disturbs the charm of the scenery—something of that +kind—I'm not up in these things; but she's an odd kind of girl. +Tremendously fond of<!-- Page 139 --><span class="pagenum">{139}</span> quietude and solitude; we've found her in the most +unexpected places—and there <i>are</i> some lonely places about these hills. +I tell her she shouldn't go on these long excursions without taking old +Robert with her; supposing she were to sprain her ankle, she might have +to remain there all night and half the next day before we could find +her. Sooner or later I know she'll startle some solitary shepherd out of +his senses: he'll come back to his hut swearing that he has seen a Gray +Lady where no mortal woman could be. Hullo, there's Waveney again—he'll +soon be on them."</p> + +<p>They could see him stealing across the top of the hillock, and then +making his way down behind certain rocks that served as a screen between +him and the birds. Then he disappeared again.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't he fire?" Lionel asked, presently. "He must be quite close +to them."</p> + +<p>"Not so close as you imagine," was the answer. "Probably he is waiting +until they come nearer together."</p> + +<p>The next moment there stepped boldly forth the slight, brown figure; the +birds instantly rose from the water and, with swift, straight flight, +made down the valley; but they had not got many yards when there were +two white puffs of smoke, both birds almost simultaneously came tumbling +to the ground, and then followed the double report of a gun.</p> + +<p>"Waveney has got his eye in to-day for certain," Sir Hugh said. "But +what's the use of his bringing the birds along?—they're no good to +anybody."</p> + +<p>"I thought perhaps they might be of some use for salmon-flies," Captain +Waveney explained, as he came up. "Aren't they, Roderick?"</p> + +<p>The keeper regarded the two birds contemptuously, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Well, Waveney, we will give you five minutes' grace, if you like," Sir +Hugh said. "Sit down and have a pipe."</p> + +<p>But this slim and wiry warrior had not even taken the gun from his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"No, no," said he, "if you are ready, I am. I can get plenty of smoking +done in the South."</p> + +<p>So they began again; but the afternoon was now on the wane, and the +beats were leading them homewards. Only two small<!-- Page 140 --><span class="pagenum">{140}</span> incidents that befell +the novice need mentioning. The first happened in this wise: the dogs +were ranging widely over what appeared to be rather a barren beat, when +suddenly one of them came to a dead point a considerable distance on. Of +course Captain Waveney and Sir Hugh hurried forward; but Lionel could +not, for he had got into trouble with a badly jammed cartridge. Just as +he heard the first shot fired, he managed to get the empty case +extracted and to replace it with a full one; and then he was about to +hasten forward when he saw the covey rise—a large covey it was—while +Captain Waveney got a right and left, and Sir Hugh fired his remaining +barrel, for he had not had time to reload. At the same instant Lionel +found that one of the birds had doubled back and was coming right over +his head; up went his gun; he blazed away; and down rolled the grouse +some dozen yards behind him.</p> + +<p>"Well done!" Sir Hugh called out, "A capital shot!"</p> + +<p>"A ghastly fluke, Sir Hugh!" Lionel called out, in return. "I simply +fired in the air."</p> + +<p>"And a very good way of firing, too!" was the naïve rejoinder.</p> + +<p>But his next achievement was hardly so creditable. They were skirting +the edge of a birch-wood that clothed the side of a steep precipice +overlooking the Aivron, where there were some patches of bracken among +the heather, when the setter in front of him—a young dog—began to draw +rather falteringly on to something.</p> + +<p>"Ware rabbit, Hector!" the keeper said, in an undertone.</p> + +<p>But meanwhile the older dog, that was backing in front of Captain +Waveney, whether it was impatient of this uncertainty on the part of its +younger companion, or whether it was jealous, managed, unobserved, to +steal forward a foot or two, until suddenly it stopped rigid.</p> + +<p>"Good dog, Iris, good dog!" Captain Waveney said (for he had overlooked +that little bit of stealthy advance), and he shifted his gun from his +right hand to his left, and stooped down and patted the animal's +neck—though all the time he was looking well ahead.</p> + +<p>Then all at once there was a terrific whir of wings; Waveney quickly put +his gun to his shoulder—paused—took it down again; at the same +moment Lionel, finding a bird within his<!-- Page 141 --><span class="pagenum">{141}</span> proper field, as he +considered—though it was going away at a prodigious speed—took steady +aim and fired. That distant object dropped—there was not a flutter. Of +course the keeper and Sir Hugh were still watching the young dog; but +when this doubtful scent came to nothing, Sir Hugh turned to Lionel.</p> + +<p>"That was a long shot of yours, Mr. Moore," said he. "And very +excusable."</p> + +<p>"Excusable?" said Lionel, wondering what he had done this time.</p> + +<p>"Of course you knew that was a blackcock?" the other said.</p> + +<p>"A blackcock?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you hear Roderick call out? Didn't you see Waveney put up his +gun and then take it down?"</p> + +<p>"Neither the one nor the other; I only saw a bird before me—and fired."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, there's no great harm done; if a man has no worse sin on his +conscience than shooting a blackcock on the Twelfth, he should sleep +sound o' nights. Waveney is fastidious. I dare say, if the bird had come +my way, I should not have resisted the temptation."</p> + +<p>Lionel considered that Sir Hugh was an exceedingly considerate and +good-natured person; and in fact when they picked up the dead bird, and +when he was regarding its handsome plumage, it cannot fairly be said +that he was very sorry for his venial mistake. Only he considered he was +bound in honor to make confession to Miss Cunyngham.</p> + +<p>Alas! he was to see little of Miss Cunyngham that night. As soon as +dinner was over—and Sir Hugh and his satellite had left the dining-room +to enter up the game-book, write labels for special friends, and +generally finish up the business of the day—Lady Adela proposed a game +of Dumb Crambo; and in this she was heartily backed up by the +Lestranges, for Miss Georgie seemed to think that the mantle of Kitty +Clive had descended upon her shoulders, while her brother evidently +regarded himself as a facetious person. Speedily it appeared, however, +that there was to be a permanent and stationary audience. Lord +Fareborough—especially after dinner, when his nervous system was still +in dark deliberation as to what it meant to do with him—was too awful a +personage to be approached; Honnor Cunyngham<!-- Page 142 --><span class="pagenum">{142}</span> good-humoredly said that +she was too stupid to join in; and Lord Rockminster declared that if +that was her excuse, it applied much more obviously to himself. +Accordingly, the remaining members of the house-party had to form the +entertainers; and never had Lionel entered into any pastime with so +little zest. These people could not act a bit, and yet he had to coach +them; and then he and they had to go into the drawing-room and perform +their antics before that calm-browed young lady (who nevertheless +regarded the proceedings with the most friendly interest) and her +companion, the stolid young lord. He could not help acknowledging to +himself that Miss Honnor Cunyngham and Lord Rockminster formed a +remarkably handsome couple as they sat together there on a couch at +right angles with the fireplace; but the distinguished appearance of the +audience did not console him for the consciousness that the performers +were making themselves absurd. He was impatient, ashamed, of the whole +affair. Dark and sullen thoughts went flashing through his brain of +saving up every penny he could get hold of and going away into some +savage wilderness in Ross or Sutherland, to be seen of actors and +amateurs no more. His gun and his rod would be his sole companions; his +library would consist of St. John, Colquhoun, "Stonehenge," and Francis +(not of Assisi); by moor and stream he would earn his own subsistence; +and theatres and fashionable life and the fantastic aspirations and +ambitions of <i>les Precieuses Ridicules</i> would be banished from him +forever. But fortunately a nine-o'clock dinner had driven this foolish +entertainment late, so that it did not last long; the ladies were +unanimously willing to retire; the gentlemen thereupon trooped off to +the gun-room to have a smoke and a glass of whiskey and soda water; and +very soon thereafter the deep-breathing calm of the whole household told +that the labors of the Twelfth were over.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h4>VENATOR IMMEMOR.</h4> + + +<p>And why was it, when, in course of time, it became practicable to +arrange a deer-stalking expedition for him, why was it<!-- Page 143 --><span class="pagenum">{143}</span> that he +voluntarily chose to encounter what Lord Rockminster had called the very +extremes of fatigue and human misery? He knew that he was about to +undergo tortures of anxiety and privation; and, what was worse, he knew +he was going to miss. He had saturated his mind with gillies' stories of +capital shots who had completely lost their nerve on first catching +sight of a stag. The "buck-ague" was already upon him. Not for him was +there waiting away in these wilds some Muckle Hart of Ben More to gain a +deathless fame from his rifle-bullet. He was about to half-kill himself +with the labors of a long and arduous expedition, and at the end of it +he foresaw himself returning home defeated, dejected, in the deepest +throes of mortification and chagrin.</p> + +<p>And look what he was giving up. Here was a whole houseful of charming +women all ready to pet him and make much of him; and in their society he +would be at home, dealing with things with which he was familiar. Lady +Sybil would be grateful to him if he helped her with the music she was +arranging for "Alfred: a Masque;" he could be of abundant service, too, +to Lady Rosamund, who was now making individual studies for her large +drawing of "Luncheon on the Twelfth;" though perhaps he could not lend +much aid to Lady Adela, who was understood to be getting on very well +with her new novel. But, at all events, he would be in his own element; +he would be among things that he understood; he would be no trembling +ignoramus adventuring forth into the unknown. And yet when, early in the +morning, the old and sturdy pony was brought round to the door, and when +the brown-bearded Roderick had shouldered the rifle and was ready to set +forth, Lionel had little thought of surrendering his chance to any one +else.</p> + +<p>"I call this very shabby treatment," his burly and good-humored host +said, as he stood at the open door. "When a man goes stalking, if +there's a pretty girl in the house, she ought to make her appearance and +give him a little present for good luck. It's an understood thing; it's +an old custom; and yet there isn't one of those lazy creatures down +yet."</p> + +<p>"This is the best I can do for you, old fellow," Percy Lestrange said, +at the same moment. "I can't give you the flask, for my sister Georgie +gave it to me; but I will lend it to you for the day; and it's filled +with an excellent mixture of curaçoa<!-- Page 144 --><span class="pagenum">{144}</span> and brandy. You'll want some +comfort? and I don't expect they'll let you smoke. What do you think of +my crest?"</p> + +<p>He handed the silver flask to Lionel, who found engraved on the side of +it a merry and ingenious device, consisting of two briar-root pipes, +crossed, and surrounded by a heraldic garter bearing the legend "<i>Dulce +est de-sip-ere in loco?</i>" Was this Miss Georgia's little joke? Anyhow, +he pocketed the flask with much gratitude; he guessed he might have need +of it, if all tales were true.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll get a presentable head," Sir Hugh said, "The stags +themselves are not in very good condition yet; but the horns are all +right—the velvet's off."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't much matter," Lionel made answer, contentedly. "I know +beforehand I am going to miss. Well, good-bye, for the present! Go +ahead, Maggie!"</p> + +<p>But at the same moment there was a glimmer of a gray dress in the +twilight of the hall; and the next moment Honnor Cunyngham appeared on +the doorstep, the morning light shining on her smiling face.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," she said, coming forward without any kind of embarrassment, +"there's an old custom—didn't my brother tell you?—you must take a +little gift from some one in the house, just as you are going away, for +good luck. You haven't yet? Here it is, then."</p> + +<p>"It is exceedingly kind of you," said he; "and I wish I could make the +omen come true; but I have no such hope. I know I am going to miss."</p> + +<p>"You are going to kill a stag!" said she, confidently. "That is what you +are going to do. Well, good-bye, and good-luck!"</p> + +<p>So the little party of three—Lionel, Roderick, and the attendant +gillie—straightway left the lodge and began to make for the head of the +strath. And it was not altogether about deer that Lionel was now +thinking. The tiny, thin packet he held in his hand seemed to burn +there. What was it Honnor Cunyngham had brought down-stairs for him? +However trivial it might be, surely it was something he could keep. She +had given it to him for good luck; but her wishes were not confined to +this one day? Then, when he had got some distance from the house, so +that his curiosity could not be observed, he threw the reins on Maggie's +neck, and proceeded to open this small packet covered<!-- Page 145 --><span class="pagenum">{145}</span> with white paper. +What did he find there?—why-only a sixpence—a bright new sixpence—not +to be compared in value with the dozens on dozens of presents which were +lavished upon him by his fair admirers in London—courteous little +attentions which, it must be confessed, he had grown to regard with a +somewhat callous indifference. Only a small, bright coin this was; and +yet he carefully wrapped up the precious talisman again in its bit of +tissue paper; and as carefully he put it away in a waistcoat pocket, +where it would be safe, even among the rough-and-tumble experiences that +lay before him. The day seemed all the happier, all the more hopeful, +that he knew this little token of friendly sympathy was in his +possession. Ought not a lucky sixpence to have a hole bored in it? He +could wear it in secret, even if she might not care to see it hanging at +his watch-chain? and who could tell what subtle influence it might not +bring to bear on his fortunes, wholly apart from the stalking of stags? +He grew quite cheerful; he forgot his nervousness; he was talking gayly +to the somewhat taciturn Roderick, who, nevertheless, no doubt much +preferred to find his pupil in this confident mood.</p> + +<p>Their course at first lay along the nearer bank of the Aivron; but, when +they had got away up the strath towards the neighborhood of the Bad +Step—which was, of course, impassable for the pony—Lionel had to +separate from his companions and ford the river, following up the other +side. Fortunately there was not much water in the stream; old Maggie +knew her way well enough; and with nothing more than an occasional +stumble among the slippery boulders and loose stones they reached the +opposite bank in safety. About a mile farther up the return crossing had +to be made; but this second ford was shallow and easy; and thenceforward +the united party went on together. At last they struck the Geinig; and +here a rude track took them away from the valley of the Aivron +altogether, into a solitary land of moor and rock.</p> + +<p>It was a still and rather louring morning; but yet he did not perceive +any gloom in it at all; nay, there was rather a tender and wistful +beauty up in this lonely wilderness he was entering. The heavy masses of +cloud hung low and brooding over the purple hills; the heavens seemed to +be in close communion with the murmuring streams in these otherwise +voiceless solitudes; the long undulations were not darkly stained, they +only lay under<!-- Page 146 --><span class="pagenum">{146}</span> a soft, transparent shadow. Even among the grays and +purple-grays of the sky there was here and there a mild sheen of silver; +and now and again a pale radiance would begin to tell upon an uprising +slope, until something almost like sunlight shone there, glorifying the +lichened rocks and the crimson heather. This was one of the days that +Honnor Cunyngham loved; and he, too, had got to appreciate their sombre +beauty, the brooding calm, the gracious silence, when he went with her +on her fishing expeditions into the wilds. And here was her favorite +Geinig—sometimes with tawny masses boiling down between the boulders, +sometimes sweeping in a black-brown current round a sudden curve, and +sometimes racing over silver-gray shallows; but always with this +continuous murmur that seemed to offer a kind of companionship where +there was no other sound or sign of life. And would she be up here later +on? he asked himself, with a curious kind of interest. Would she have a +thought for the small party that had passed in the early morning and +disappeared into the remote and secret fastnesses among those lonely +hills? Might she linger on in the evening, in the hope of finding them +coming home again—perchance with joyful news? For, after all, this +lucky sixpence had buoyed up his spirits; he was not so entirely certain +he would miss, if anything like a fair chance presented itself; and he +knew that if that chance did offer, he would bring all that was in him +to bear on the controlling of his nerves—he would not breathe—his life +would be concentrated on the small cleft of the rifle—if his heart +cracked in twain the instant after the trigger was pulled.</p> + +<p>But these vague and anxious speculations were soon to be discarded for +the immediate interests of the moment. They were getting near to the +ground—after a sufficiently rough journey of close on eight miles; and +now, as they came to the bed of a little burn, Lionel was bidden to +descend from his venerable steed; the saddle was taken off; and old +Maggie was hobbled, and left to occupy herself with the fresh, sweet +grass growing near to the stream.</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Roderick," Lionel said, "I'm entirely in your hands, and +mind you don't spare me. Since I'm in for it, I mean to see it through."</p> + +<p>"When it is after a stag we are, there is no sparing of any<!-- Page 147 --><span class="pagenum">{147}</span> one," said +Roderick, significantly, as he took out his telescope. "And you will +think of this, sir, that if we are crahling along, and come on the deer +without expecting it, and if they see you, then you will lie still like +a stone. Many's the time they will chist stand and look at you, if you +do not move; and then slowly, slowly you will put your head down in the +heather again, and wait till I tell you what to do. But if you go out of +sight quick—ay, so will they."</p> + +<p>At first, as it appeared to Lionel, they went forward with a dangerous +fearlessness, the keeper merely using his natural eye-sight to search +the slopes and corries; but presently he began to go more warily; again +and again he paused, to watch the motion of the white rags of cloud +clinging to the hillsides; and occasionally, as they got up into the +higher country, he would lie down with his back on a convenient mound, +cross one knee over the other, and, with this rest for his telescope, +proceed to scrutinize, inch by inch, the vast prospect before him. There +was no more talking now. There was a kind of stealthiness in their +progress, even when they walked erect; but it soon appeared to Lionel +that Roderick, who went first, seemed to be keeping a series of natural +eminences between them and a certain distant tract of this silent and +lonely land. It was only a guess; but it accounted for all kinds of +circuitous little turns; anyhow, there was nothing for him but to follow +blindly whither he was led. Of course he kept his eyes open; but there +was no sign of life anywhere in this barren wilderness; there was +nothing but the empty undulations of heath and thick grass, with +sometimes a little tarn coming in sight, and always the farther hills +forming a sort of solitary amphitheatre along the horizon.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Roderick stopped short, and quietly put out his hand to arrest +the progress of his companions. Involuntarily they stooped; and he not +only did likewise, but presently he was on his back on the heather, with +the telescope balanced as before. After a long and earnest scrutiny, he +offered the glass to Lionel.</p> + +<p>"They're there," he said, "but in an ahfu' bad place for us."</p> + +<p>Eagerly Lionel got hold of the telescope and tried to balance it as the +keeper had done; but either his hand was trembling, or the wind had a +purchase on the long tube, or he was unaccustomed to its use; at all +events he could make out nothing but nebulous and uncertain patches of +color.<!-- Page 148 --><span class="pagenum">{148}</span></p> + +<p>"Tell me where they are," he said, quickly, as he put aside the glass. +"I have good eyes."</p> + +<p>"Do you see the gray scar on the hillside yonder?—then right below that +the rocks—and then the open place—can you see them now? Ay, and +there's not a single hind with them—"</p> + +<p>"They're all stags?" exclaimed Lionel, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Every one," said Roderick. "And when there's no hinds with them, it is +easier to get at them, for they're not near so wary as the hinds; but +that is a bad place where they are feeding the now—a terrible bad +place. I'm thinking it is no use to try to get near them there; but they +will keep feeding on and on until they get over the ridge; and what we +will do now is we will chist go aweh down wind, and get round to them +from anither airt."</p> + +<p>It was little that Lionel knew what was involved in this apparently +simple scheme. At first everything was easy enough; for, when they had +fallen back out of sight of the deer, they merely set forth upon a long +walk down wind, going erect, without any trouble. It is true that Lionel +in time began to think that the keeper, instead of having the deer in +mind, was bent on a pilgrimage into Cromarty or Sutherland, or perhaps +towards the shores of the Atlantic; but this interminable tramp was a +mere trifle compared with their labors when they began to go up wind +again. For now there was nothing but stooping and crawling and slouching +behind hillocks, up peat-hags, and through marshy swamps; while the heat +produced by all this painful toil was liable to a sudden chill whenever +a halt was called to enable Roderick to writhe his prostrate figure up +to the top of some slight eminence, where, raising his head inch by +inch, he once more informed himself of the whereabouts of the deer. +There seemed to be no end to this snake-like squirming along the ground +and creeping behind rocks and hillocks; in fact, they were now in a +quite different tract of country from that in which they had first +caught sight of the stags—a much more wild and sombre landscape was +this, with precipitous black crags overhanging a sullen and solitary +loch that had not a bush or a tree along its lifeless shores. As for +Lionel, he fought along without repining. His arms were soaking wet up +to the elbows; his legs were in a like condition from the knee downward. +Then he was damp with perspiration; while ever and anon, when he<!-- Page 149 --><span class="pagenum">{149}</span> had to +lie prone in the moist grass, or crouch like a frog behind a rock, the +cold wind from the hills sent a shiver down his spine or seemed to +strike like an icy dagger through his chest. But he took it all as part +of the day's work. There was in his possession a little silver token +that afforded him much content. He would acquit himself like a man—if +he could; at any rate, he would not grumble.</p> + +<p>After what seemed ages of this inconceivable torture, Lionel was +immensely relieved to find the keeper, after a careful survey from the +top of a mound to which he had crawled, motion with his hand to him to +come up to his side. This he did with the greatest circumspection, +scarcely raising his head above the grass and heather; and then, when he +had joined Roderick, he began to peer through the waving stalks and +twigs just before his eyes. Suddenly his gaze was arrested by certain +brown tips—tips that were moving; were these the stags' horns, he asked +himself, in a kind of bewilderment of fear? There could be no doubt of +it. The beasts were now lying down—he could not see their bodies—but +clearly enough he could make out their branching antlers, as they lazily +moved their heads, or perhaps turned to flick a fly away.</p> + +<p>"They're too far off, aren't they?" Lionel whispered—and, despite all +his sworn resolves to keep calm, he felt his heart going as if it would +choke him.</p> + +<p>"They're lying down now," Roderick said, with professional coolness, +"and they're right out in the open; it is no use at all trying to get +near them until they get up in the afternoon and begin to feed again, +and then maybe they will feed over the shoulder yonder. No use at all," +said he; but just at this moment his quick eye caught sight of something +else that had just appeared on the edge of one of the lower slopes, and +the expression of his face instantly changed—into something like alarm. +"Bless me, look at that now!"</p> + +<p>Lionel slowly and cautiously turned his head; and then, quite clearly, +he could see a small company of seven or eight stags that had come along +from quite a different direction. They paused at the crest of the slope, +looking all about them.</p> + +<p>"Was ever anything so mischievous?" Roderick exclaimed, in smothered +vexation. "If they come over this way they will get our wind; and then +it is good-bye to all of them. And we<!-- Page 150 --><span class="pagenum">{150}</span> cannot get away neither—well, +well, was there ever the like now? There is only the one chance—mebbe +they will go along to the others, and keep with them till they begin +feeding in the afternoon. Indeed, now, it is a terrible peety if we are +to miss such a chance—and not a hind anywhere to be on the watch!"</p> + +<p>Happily, however, Roderick's immediate fears were soon dispelled. The +new-comers slowly descended the slope; then they bore up the valley +again; and after walking about awhile, they followed the example of the +rest of the herd and lay down on the heather.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, that is better now," Roderick said, with much satisfaction. +"That is ferry well now. And since there is nothing to be done till the +whole of them get up to feed in the afternoon, we will chist creep aweh +into a peat-hag and wait there, and you can have your lunch, sir."</p> + +<p>So there was another crawling performance down from this exposed height; +and eventually the small party managed to hide themselves in a black and +moist peat-hag, where their extremely frugal repast was produced.</p> + +<p>"But look here, Roderick," Lionel said, "it's only twelve o'clock now; +do you mean to say we have to stop in this wet hole till two or three in +the afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, chist that," the keeper said, coolly. "They will begin to feed +about three; and until they go over the ridge, it is no use at all +trying to get near them."</p> + +<p>"And what are we to do all the time?"</p> + +<p>"Chist wait," Roderick said, with much simplicity; and then he and the +gillie withdrew a little way down the peat-hag, so that they might have +their luncheon and a cautious whispering in Gaelic by themselves.</p> + +<p>It was tantalizing in the last degree. The breathless consciousness that +the deer were close by made him all the more impatient for the +half-dreaded opportunity of having a shot at one of them. He wished it +was well over. If he were going to miss, he wanted to have his agony of +mortification encountered and done with, instead of enduring this +maddening delay. The peat-hag became a prison; and a very uncomfortable +prison, too. His sandwiches were soon disposed of; thereafter—what? He +dared not smoke; he had no book with him; the keeper and the gillie, +having withdrawn themselves, were exchanging confidences<!-- Page 151 --><span class="pagenum">{151}</span> in their +native tongue. His clothes were wet and cold and clammy; Percy +Lestrange's flask appeared to afford him no comfort whatever. And of +course the longer he brooded over the chances of hit or miss, the more +appalling became the responsibility. How much depended on that fifteenth +part of a second! He was half inclined to say, "Here, Roderick, I can +bear this anxiety no longer. Let us get as near the deer as we can; +sight the rifle for a long distance, you whistle the stags on to their +legs—and I'll blaze into the thick of them. Anything to get the shot +over and done with!"</p> + +<p>Indeed, this intolerable waiting was about as bad a thing as could have +happened to his nerves; but it did not last quite as long as the keeper +had anticipated; for about two o'clock Roderick ascertained that the +stags were up again and feeding. This was good news—anything was good +news, in fact, that broke in upon this sickening suspense; had Lionel +been informed that the deer had taken alarm and disappeared at full +gallop, he would have said "Amen!" and set out for home with a light +heart. But, by and by, when it was discovered that the stags had gone +over the ridge—one of them remained on the crest for a long time, +staring right across the valley, so that the stalkers dared not move +hand or foot—when this last sentinel had also withdrawn, the slouching +and skulking devices of the morning had to be resumed. Not a word was +spoken; but Lionel knew that the fateful moment was approaching. Then, +when they began to ascend the ridge over which the stags had +disappeared, their progress culminated in a laborious crawl, Roderick +going first, with the rifle in one hand, Lionel dragging himself after, +the gillie coming on as best he might. It was slow work now. The keeper +went forward inch by inch, as if at any moment he expected to find a +stag staring down upon him. And at last he lay quite still; then, with +the slightest movement of his disengaged hand, he beckoned Lionel to +come up beside him.</p> + +<p>Now was the time for all his desperate and summoned calmness. He shut +his lips firm, breathing only by his nose; he gradually pushed his way +through the tall, withered grass; and at last, when he was almost side +by side with Roderick, he peered forward. They were startlingly near, +those brown and dun beasts with the branching antlers!—he almost shrank +back—and<!-- Page 152 --><span class="pagenum">{152}</span> yet he gazed and gazed with a strange fascination. The stags, +which were not more than fifty or sixty yards off, were quite +unconscious of any danger; they were quietly feeding; sometimes one of +them would cease and raise his head and look lazily around. Just at this +moment, too, a pale sunlight began to shine over the plateau on which +they stood; and a very pretty picture it lit up—the silver-gray rocks, +the wide heath, and those slim and elegant creatures grouped here and +there as chance directed. Every single feature of the scene (as he +discovered long thereafter) was burned into Lionel's brain; yet he was +not aware of it at the time; his whole attention, as he imagined, was +directed towards keeping himself cool and restrained and ready to obey +Roderick's mute directions. The rifle was stealthily given to him, and +as stealthily pushed through the grass. With his fore-finger the keeper +indicated the stag at which Lionel was to fire; it was rather lighter in +color than the others, and was standing a little way apart. Lionel took +time to consider, as he thought; in reality it was to still the quick +pulsation of his heart; and as he did so the stag, unfortunately for +him, moved, so that, instead of offering him an easy broadside shot, it +almost faced him, with its head down. Still, at any moment it might +afford a fairer mark; and so, with the utmost caution, and with his lips +still shut tight, he slowly raised himself somewhat, and got the rifle +into his hands. Yes, the stag had again moved; its shoulder was exposed; +his eyes inquired of Roderick if now was the time; and the keeper nodded +assent.</p> + +<p>The awful crisis had arrived; and he seemed to blind himself and deaden +himself to all things in this mortal world except the little notch in +the rifle, the shining sight, and that fawn-colored object over there. +He took a long breath; he steadied and steadied the slightly trembling +barrel until it appeared perfectly motionless; and then—he fired!</p> + +<p>Alas! at the very moment that he pulled the trigger—when it was too +late for him to change his purpose—the stag threw up its head to flick +at its side with its horns, and thus quite altered its position; he knew +he ought not to fire—but it was too late—too late—and in the very act +of pulling the trigger he felt that he had missed.</p> + +<p>Roderick sprang to his feet; for the deer, notwithstanding that they +could not have discerned where the danger lay, with one<!-- Page 153 --><span class="pagenum">{153}</span> consent bounded +forward and made for a rocky defile on the farther side of the plateau.</p> + +<p>"Come on, sir! Come on, sir!" the keeper called to Lionel. "You've hit +him. Come along, sir!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't hit him—I missed—missed clean!" was the hopeless answer.</p> + +<p>"I tell ye ye've hit him!" the keeper exclaimed. "Run, sir, run!—if +he's only wounded he may need the other barrel. God bless me, did ye not +hear the thud when the ball struck?"</p> + +<p>Thus admonished Lionel unwittingly, but nevertheless as quickly as he +could, followed the keeper; and he could show a nimble pair of heels +when he chose, even when he was hampered with this heavy rifle. Not that +he had any heart in the chase. The stag had swerved aside just as he +fired; he knew he must have missed. At the same time any one who goes +out with a professional stalker must be content to become as clay in the +hands of the potter; so Lionel did as he was bid; and though he could +not overtake Roderick, he was not far behind him when they both reached +the pass down which the deer had fled.</p> + +<p>And there the splendid animals were still in view—bounding up a stony +hillside some distance off, in straggling twos and threes, and going at +a prodigious speed. But where was the light-colored stag? Certainly not +among those brown beasts whose scrambling up that steep face was sending +a shower of stones and débris down into the silent glen below.</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking he's no far aweh," Roderick said, eagerly scanning all the +ground in front of them. "We'll chist go forrit, sir; and you'll be +ready to shoot, for, if he's only wounded, he may be up and off again +when he sees us."</p> + +<p>"But do you really think I hit him?" Lionel said, anxiously enough.</p> + +<p>"I <i>sah</i> him struck," the keeper said, emphatically. "But he never +dropped—no, not once on his knees even. He was off with the best of +them; and that's what meks me think he was well hit, and that he's no +far aweh."</p> + +<p>So they went forward on the track of the herd, slowly, and searching +every dip and hollow. For Lionel it was a period of agonizing +uncertainty. One moment he would buoy himself up with the assurance that +the keeper must know; the rest he convinced himself that he had missed +the stag clean. Now he<!-- Page 154 --><span class="pagenum">{154}</span> would be wondering whether this wide, undulating +plain really contained the slain monarch of the mists; again he pictured +to himself that light-colored, fleet-footed creature far away in advance +of all his companions, making for some distant sanctuary among the +mountains.</p> + +<p>"Here he is, sir!" Roderick cried, with a quick little chuckle; and the +words sent a thrill through Lionel such as he had never experienced in +his life before. "No—he's quite dead," the keeper continued, seeing +that the younger man was making ready to raise his rifle again. "I was +thinking he was well hit—and no far aweh."</p> + +<p>At the same moment Lionel had eagerly run forward. With what joy and +pride—with what a curious sense of elation—with what a disposition of +good-will towards all the world—he now beheld this splendid beast lying +in the deep peat-hag that had hitherto hidden it from view. The stag's +last effort had been to clear this gully; but it had only managed to +strike the opposite bank with its forefeet when the death-wound did its +work, and then the hapless animal had rolled back with its final groan +into the position in which they now found it. In a second, Roderick was +down in the peat-hag beside it, holding up its head by one of the horns, +and examining the bulletmark.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said he, with a humorous smile that did not often lighten +up his visage, "if this is what you will be calling the missing of a +stag, it is a ferry good way to miss it; for I never sah a better shot +in my life."</p> + +<p>"It's a fluke, then, Roderick; I declare to you I was certain I had +missed," said he—though he hardly knew what he was saying; a kind of +bewilderment of joy possessed him—he could not keep his eyes off the +dead stag—and now, if he had only chanced to notice it, his hand was +certainly trembling. Probably Roderick did not know what a fluke was; in +any case his response was:</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I'm chist going to drink your good health; ay, and more good +luck to you, sir; and it's ferry glad I am that you hef got your first +stag!" and therewith he pulled out his small zinc flask.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you mustn't draw on your own supplies!" Lionel exclaimed, in +the fulness of his pride and gratitude. "See, here<!-- Page 155 --><span class="pagenum">{155}</span> is a flask filled +with famous stuff. You take it—you and Alec; I don't want any more +to-day."</p> + +<p>"Do not be so sure of that," the keeper said, shrewdly, and he modestly +declined to take Percy Lestrange's decorated flask. "It's a long walk +from home we are; far longer than you think; and mebbe there will be +some showers before we get back home."</p> + +<p>"I don't care if there's thunder and lightning all the way!" Lionel +cried, gayly. "But I'll tell you what, Roderick, I wish you'd lend me +your pipe. Have you plenty of tobacco? A cigarette is too feeble a thing +to smoke by the side of a dead stag. And—and on my way south I mean to +stop at Inverness, and I'll send you as much tobacco as will last you +right through the winter; for you see I'm very proud of my first +stag—and, of course, it was all owing to your skill in stalking."</p> + +<p>Roderick handed the young man his pipe and pouch.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, you could not do better, sir, than sit down and hef a smoke, +while me and Alec are gralloching the beast. Then we'll drag him to a +safe place, and cover him up with heather, and send for him the morn's +morning."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you put him on the pony and take him down with us? I can +walk," Lionel suggested; for had he not some dim vision in his mind of a +triumphal procession down the strath, towards the dusk of the evening, +with perhaps a group of fair spectators awaiting him at the door of the +lodge?</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," the keeper made answer, as he drew out his gralloching +knife, "you see, there's few things more difficult than to strap a deer +on the back of a powny when there's no proper deer-saddle. No, sir, +we'll just leave him in a safe place for the night and send for him in +the morning."</p> + +<p>"And do you call that a good head to get stuffed Roderick?" the young +man asked, still gazing on his splendid prize.</p> + +<p>"Aw, well, I hef seen better heads, and I hef seen worse heads," the +keeper said, evasively. "But the velvet is off the horns whatever."</p> + +<p>This was tremendously strong tobacco that Roderick had handed him, and +yet, as it seemed to him, he had never smelt a sweeter fragrance +perfuming the soft mountain air. Nor did these appear grim and awful +solitudes any longer; they were friendly solitudes, rather; as he sat +and peacefully and joyously smoked, he studied every feature of +them—each rock and<!-- Page 156 --><span class="pagenum">{156}</span> swamp and barren slope, every hill and corrie and +misty mountain-top; and he knew that while life remained to him he would +never forget this memorable scene—with the slain stag in the +foreground. No, nor how could he ever forget that wan glare of sunlight +that had come along the plateau where the deer were quietly feeding?—he +seemed to see again each individual blade of grass close to his face, as +well as the noble quarry that had held him breathless. And then he took +out the bright little coin; surely Honnor Cunyngham could not object to +his wearing it, seeing that it had proved itself such a potent charm? He +rejoiced that he had not been frightened off his expedition by tales of +its monotonous sufferings and dire fatigues. This was something better +than arranging an out-of-door performance for a parcel of amateurs! +Stiff and sore he was, his clothes were mostly soaked and caked with +mire, and he did not know what he had not done to his shins and knees +and elbows; but he did not mind all that; Honnor Cunyngham was right—as +he rode down Strathaivron that evening towards the lodge, it would not +be of fatigues and privations he would be thinking! it would be of the +lordly stag left away up there in the hills, to be sent for and brought +down in triumph the next day.</p> + +<p>By the time they had got the stag conveyed to a place of concealment, +and carefully covered over with heather, the afternoon was well +advanced; then they set out for the little corrie in which the pony had +been left. But Lionel was now to discover that they had come much +farther into these wilds than he had imagined; indeed, when they at +length came upon the stolid and unconcerned Maggie, he did not in the +least regret that it was a riding-saddle, not a deer-saddle, they had +brought with them in the morning. He had offered to walk these remaining +eight miles in order to have the proud satisfaction of taking the stag +home with them; now he was just as well content that it was he, and not +the slain deer, that Maggie was to carry down to Strathaivron. So he lit +another cigarette, got into the saddle, and with a light heart set forth +upon the long and tedious jog-jog down towards the region of comparative +civilization.</p> + +<p>Yet it was hardly so tedious, after all. He was mentally going over +again and again every point and incident of the day's thrilling +experiences; and now it seemed as if it were a long time since he had +been squirming through the heather, with all his<!-- Page 157 --><span class="pagenum">{157}</span> limbs aching, and his +heart ready to burst. He recalled that beautiful picture of the stags +feeding on the lonely plateau; he wondered now that he was able to +steady the rifle-barrel until it ceased to be tremulous; he asked +himself whether he had not in reality pulled the trigger just before the +stag swerved its head aside. And what would have been his feelings now, +supposing he had missed? Riding home in silence and dejection—trying to +account for the incomprehensible blunder—fearing to think of what he +would have to say to the people at the lodge. And he was not at all +sorry to reflect that, as soon as the little party got back home, Miss +Honnor Cunyngham should see for herself that he, a mere singer out of +comedy-opera, was not afraid to face the hardships that had proved too +much for Lord Rockminster—yes, and that he had faced them to some +purpose.</p> + +<p>Very friendly sounded the voice of the Geinig, when it first struck upon +his ear; they were getting into a recognizable neighborhood now; here +were familiar features—not a waste of the awful and unknown. But it was +too much to expect that Miss Cunyngham should still be lingering by any +of those pools; the evening was closing in; she must have set out for +home long ago, fishing her way down as she went. They passed a +shepherd's solitary cottage; the old man came out to hear the +news—which was told him in Gaelic. They reached the banks of the +Aivron, and trudged along under the tall cliffs and through the +scattered birch and hazel. Then came the fording of the river—the tramp +along the other side—the return ford—and the small home-going party +was reunited again. They skirted the glassy sweeps of the Long Pool, the +darker swirls of the Small Pool, and the saffron-tinted masses of foam +hurling down between the borders of the Rock Pool; and then at last they +came in view of the spacious valley, and far away in the midst of it +Strathaivron Lodge.</p> + +<p>Had they been coming back with bad news this might have been rather a +melancholy sight, perhaps—the long, wide strath with the wan shades of +twilight stealing over the meadows and the woods and the winding river; +but now (to Lionel at least) it was nothing but beautiful. If the glen +itself looked ghostly and lifeless and colorless, there were warmer hues +overhead; for a pale salmon-flush still suffused the sky; and where that +half-crimson glow, just over the dark, heather-stained hill, faded<!-- Page 158 --><span class="pagenum">{158}</span> into +an exquisite transparent lilac, there hung a full moon—a moon of the +lightest and clearest gold, with its mysterious continents appearing as +faint gray films. The prevailing peace seemed to grow more profound with +the coming of the night. But this was not a night to be feared—this was +a night to be welcomed—a night with that fair golden moon hanging high +in the heavens, the mistress and guardian of the silent vale.</p> + +<p>When Lionel rode up to the door of the lodge, he found all the gentlemen +of the house congregated there and dressed for dinner. Sir Hugh held up +his hand.</p> + +<p>"No, not one word!" he cried. "Not necessary. I can always tell. It is +written in every line of your face."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a hind, is it?" inquired Lord Rockminster, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"A hind of ten points!" Lionel said, with a laugh, as he pushed his way +through. "Well, I must see if I can have a hot bath to soften my bones."</p> + +<p>"My good fellow, it's waiting for you," his host said. "I told Jeffreys +the moment I saw you coming down the strath. We'll put back dinner a +bit; but be as quick as you can."</p> + +<p>At the same moment there appeared a white-draped figure on the landing +above, leaning over the balustrade.</p> + +<p>"What have you done, Mr. Moore?" called down the well-known voice of +Honnor Cunyngham.</p> + +<p>"I've got a stag," he said, looking up with a good deal of +satisfaction—or gratitude, perhaps?—in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"How many points?"</p> + +<p>"Ten."</p> + +<p>"Well done! Didn't I tell you you would get a stag?"</p> + +<p>"It's all owing to the lucky sixpence you gave me," he said; and she +laughed, as she turned away to go to her room.</p> + +<p>After a welcome bath he dressed as quickly as he could for +dinner—dressed so quickly, indeed, that he thought he was entitled to +glance at the outside of the pile of letters awaiting him there on the +mantelpiece. He had a large correspondence, from all kinds of people; +and when he was in a hurry this brief scrutiny of the address was all he +allowed himself; he usually could tell if there was anything of unusual +importance. On the present occasion the only handwriting that arrested +him for a second was Nina's; and some sort of half-understood +compunction<!-- Page 159 --><span class="pagenum">{159}</span> made him open her letter. Well, it was not a letter; it was +merely a little printed form, such as is put about the stalls and boxes +of a theatre when an announcement has to be made. This announcement read +as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="sc">Notice</span>: In consequence of the sudden indisposition of <span class="sc">Miss + Burgoyne</span>, the part of 'Grace Mainwaring' will be sustained this + evening by <span class="sc">Miss Antonia Ross</span>"</p></div> + +<p class="noind">—while above these printed words Nina had written, in a rather +trembling hand: "<i>Ah, Leo, if you were only here to-night!</i>" Apparently +she had scribbled this brief message before the performance; perhaps +haste or nervousness might account for the uncertain writing. So Nina +was to have her great opportunity after all, he said to himself, as he +went joyfully down-stairs to join the brilliant assemblage in the +drawing-room. Poor Nina!—he had of late almost forgotten her existence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h4>AIVRON AND GEINIG.</h4> + + +<p>Honnor Cunyngham was quite as proud as Lionel himself that he had killed +a stag; for in a measure he was her pupil; at all events it was at her +instigation that he was devoting himself to these athletic sports and +pastimes, and so far withdrawing himself from the trivialities and +affectations of the serious little band of amateurs. Not that Miss +Cunyngham ever exhibited any disdain for those pursuits of her gifted +sisters-in-law; no; she listened to Lady Sybil's music, and regarded +Lady Rosamund's canvases, and even read the last MS. chapter of Lady +Adela's new novel (for that great work was now in progress) with a grave +good-humor and even with a kind of benevolence; and it was only when one +or the other of them, with unconscious simplicity, named herself in +conjunction with some master of the art she was professing—wondering +how <i>he</i> could do such and such a thing in such and such a fashion when +<i>she</i> found another method infinitely preferable—it was only at such +moments that occasionally Honnor Cunyngham's clear hazel eyes would meet +Lionel's, and the question they obviously asked was "Is not that +extraordinary?" They did not ask "Is not that absurd?"<!-- Page 160 --><span class="pagenum">{160}</span> or "How can any +one be so innocently and inordinately vain?" they only expressed a +friendly surprise, with perhaps the smallest trace of demure amusement.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, if Miss Cunyngham rather intimated to this young +guest and stranger that, being at a shooting-lodge in the Highlands, he +ought to devote himself to the healthful and vigorous recreations of the +place, instead of dawdling away his time in drawing-room frivolities, it +was not that she herself should take possession of him as her comrade on +her salmon-fishing excursions. He soon discovered that he was not to +have any great encouragement in this direction. She was always very kind +to him, no doubt; and she had certainly proposed that, if he cared to go +with her, he could take the wading portions of the pools; but beyond +that she extended to him very little companionship, except what he made +bold to claim. And the fact is, he was rather piqued by the curious +isolation in which this young lady appeared to hold herself. She seemed +so entirely content with herself, so wholly indifferent to the little +attentions and flatteries of ordinary life, always good-natured when in +the society of any one, she was just as satisfied to be left alone. Now, +Lionel Moore had not been used to this kind of treatment. Women had been +only too ready to smile when he approached; perhaps, indeed, familiar +success had rendered him callous; at all events, he had managed to get +along so far without encountering any violent experience of heart-aching +desire and disappointment and despair. But this young lady, with the +clear, fine, intellectual face, the proud lips, the calm, observant +eyes, puzzled him—almost vexed him. Nina, for example, was a far more +sympathetic companion; either she was enthusiastically happy, talkative, +vivacious, gay as a lark, or she was wilfully sullen and offended, to be +coaxed round again and petted, like a spoiled child, until the natural +sunshine of her humor came through those wayward clouds. But Miss +Cunyngham, while always friendly and pleasant, remained (as he thought) +strangely remote, imperturbable, calm. She did not seem to care about +his society at all. Perhaps she would rather have him go up the +hill?—though the birds were getting very wild now for a novice. In any +case, she could not refuse to let him accompany her on the morning after +his deer-stalking expedition; for all the story had to be told her.<!-- Page 161 --><span class="pagenum">{161}</span></p> + +<p>"I suppose you are very stiff," she said, cheerfully, as they left the +lodge—he walking heavily in waders and brogues—old Robert coming up +behind with rod and gaff. "But I should imagine you do not ask for much +sympathy. Shall I tell you what you are thinking of at this moment? You +have a vague fear that the foxes may have got at that precious animal +during the night; and you are anxious to see it safely down here at the +lodge; and you want to have the head sent at once to Mr. Macleay's in +Inverness, so that it mayn't get mixed up with the lot of others which +will be coming in when the driving in the big forests begins. Isn't that +about it?"</p> + +<p>"You are a witch," said he, "or else you have been deer-stalking +yourself. But, you know, Miss Honnor, it's all very well to go on an +expedition like that of yesterday once in a way—as a piece of bravado, +almost; and no doubt you are very proud when you see the dead stag lying +on the heather before you; but I am not sure I should ever care for it +as a continuous occupation, even if I were likely to have the chance. +The excitement is too furious, too violent. But look at a day by the +side of a salmon river!" continued this adroit young man. "There is +absolute rest and peace—except when you are engaged in fighting a +salmon; and, for my own part, that is not necessary to my enjoyment at +all. No; I would rather see you fish; then I know that everything is +going right—that every pool is being properly cast over—that Robert is +satisfied. And in the meantime I can sit and drink in all the beauty of +the scenery—the quietude—the loneliness; that is a real change for me, +after the busy life of London. I have got to be great friends with this +river; I seem to have known it all my life; when we were coming home +last evening, after being away in those awful solitudes, the sound of +the Geinig was the most welcome thing I ever heard, I think."</p> + +<p>"It is to the Geinig we are going now," said his companion, who appeared +quite to ignore the insidious appeal conveyed in these touching +sentiments. "I promised to leave all the Aivron pools to Mr. Lestrange. +But we may take the Junction Pool, for he won't have time to come beyond +the Bad Step; and, by the way, Mr. Moore, if you feel stiff after +yesterday, going up and down the Bad Step won't do you any harm."</p> + +<p>Well, the ascent of this Bad Step (whether so named from the<!-- Page 162 --><span class="pagenum">{162}</span> French or +the Gaelic nobody seemed to know) was not so difficult, after all, for +it was gradual; and a brief breathing-space on the summit showed them +the far-stretching landscape terminating in the wild mountains of +Assynt; but the sheer descent into the gloomy chasm on the other side +was rather an awkward thing for any one encased in waders. However, +Lionel managed somehow or another to slide and scramble down this +zig-zag track on the face of the loose débris; they reached the bottom +in safety and crossed the burn; they followed a more secure pathway cut +along the precipitous slope overlooking the Aivron; then they got down +once more to the river-side, and found themselves walking over +velvet-soft turf, in a wood of thinly scattered birch and hazel.</p> + +<p>But when they emerged from this wood, passed along by some meadows, and +reached the Junction Pool (so called from the Geinig and Aivron meeting +here), they found that the sun was much too bright; so they contentedly +seated themselves on the bank to wait for a cloud, while old Robert +proceeded to consult his fly-book. Neither of them seemed in a very +talkative mood; indeed, when you are in front of a Highland river, with +its swift-glancing lights, its changing glooms and gleams, its continual +murmur and prattle, what need is there of any talk? Talk only distracts +the attention. And this part of the stream was especially beautiful. +They could hardly quarrel with the sunlight when, underneath the clear +water, it sent interlacing lines of gold chasing one another across the +brown sand and shingle of the shallows; and if the cloudless sky +overhead compelled this unwilling idleness, it also touched each of +those dancing ripples with a gleam of most brilliant blue. Farther out +those scattered blue gleams became concentrated until they formed glassy +sweeps of intensest azure where the deep pools were; and these again +gave way to the broken water under the opposite bank, where the +swift-running current reflected the golden-green of the overhanging +bushes and weeds. Where was the call for any speech between these two? +When, at length, Robert admonished the young man to get ready, because a +cloud was coming over, and this part of the Aivron had to be waded, +Lionel got up with no great good-will; that silent companionship, in the +gracious stillness and soothing murmur of the stream, seemed to him to +be more profitable to the soul than the lashing of a wide pool with a +seventeen-foot rod.<!-- Page 163 --><span class="pagenum">{163}</span></p> + +<p>But he buckled to his task like a man; and as he could wade a good +distance in, there was no need for him to attempt a long line. +Surreptitiously, on many occasions, he had been getting lessons from old +Robert; and now, if his casting was not professional in its length, it +was at least clean. Moreover, by this time he had learned that the +expectant moment in salmon-fishing is not when the fly lights away over +at the other side and begins to sweep round in a semicircle, but when it +drags in the current before it is withdrawn; and he was in no haste in +recovering.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Moore, you are casting beautifully," Miss Honnor Cunyngham +called to him; and the words were sweet music to his ears, for it may be +frankly admitted that this somewhat sensitive novice was playing to the +gallery. His diligent and careful thrashing, however, was of no avail. +He could not stir anything; and as in time the deepening water drove him +ashore, he willingly surrendered his rod to his fair companion, who +could now fish from the bank.</p> + +<p>Then he sat down to watch—and to dream. He could see that she was +getting out more and more line, and throwing beautifully; but he had +persuaded himself (or thought he had persuaded himself) into the belief +that the singular and constant charm of this river had no association +with her, or with the quiet hours these two had passed there together. +It was the stream talking to him that had fascinated him as he sat idly +and listened. He had grown familiar with every cadence of that +mysterious voice—now a whispering and laughing as the water chased over +the sunny shallows—then a harsher note where the current, fretting and +chafing, as it were, was broken by multitudes of stones—again a low +murmur as the black river swept, dark and sullen, through a contracted +channel—finally a fiercer tumult as this once-placid Aivron, increasing +in pace and volume every moment, flung itself, lion-like, over the +masses of rocks—its tawny mane upheaved to the daylight—and then fell, +crashing and plunging, into a mighty chasm, the birchwoods around +reverberating with its angry roar. Far away is the lonely sea. This +friendly river may laugh or brawl as it will, but there is peace for it +at last; its varying voices must eventually disappear in the dull, slow +tumult of the distant world. And yet it seemed to him to complain as it +went by—to appeal to him; and yet why to him, if<!-- Page 164 --><span class="pagenum">{164}</span> he, too, was summoned +away from this still solitude and sucked into a murmuring ocean still +more awful than the sea?</p> + +<p>"Well done, Miss Honnor!" old Robert called out.</p> + +<p>Suddenly startled from his idle reverie, Lionel beheld the line being +swiftly taken across to the other side of the river, sending up a little +spurt of spray as it cleft the current.</p> + +<p>"A good one this time, Robert, isn't it?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Ay, I'm thinking that's a good fish," old Robert made answer, as he +rose from the bank and came down to her side.</p> + +<p>"And there's a fair field and no favor," she continued. "Plenty of room +for him—and he doesn't seem inclined to tug."</p> + +<p>No, this was not a "jiggering" fish; but he was a pretty lively +customer, for all that, as they were soon to find out. For, after having +rested for a minute or so, he made a wild rush up-stream, still on the +other side, that took a dangerous length of line out and kept her +running after him, and winding up when possible as well as she was able. +Farther and farther he went, until she had arrived at the junction of +the Geinig and the Aivron, she being on the Geinig shore, and the fish +making up the other stream. Here was a pleasant predicament!</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," she called out, "take the rod and wade in!—I daren't give +him more line—quick, quick, please!"</p> + +<p>Her entreaty was quite pathetic in its earnestness; but old Robert was +less excited.</p> + +<p>"If Mr. Moore was not here you would be in the watter yourself, Miss +Honnor," the old man said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>However, before the rod could be given into Lionel's hands the salmon +had changed his tactics. He came dashing across to the nearer side of +the Aivron, so that the nose of land separating the two rivers +threatened to come between the fish and his captor; there he lay still.</p> + +<p>"Robert," she cried, in despair, "if he goes another yard up-stream he +will have the line on that bush! What is to be done?"</p> + +<p>Almost at the same moment the fish began to move again—slowly this +time—and with agonized anxiety they saw the line, despite all her +efforts to keep it off, being quietly drawn into the small hazel-bush. +But Robert knew that bush and its ways.</p> + +<p>"Take the rod in, sir, as far as you can go," he said to Lionel; and +then he himself ran round to a shallow ford of the Geinig, crossed over, +went along the bank, and proceeded to get the line<!-- Page 165 --><span class="pagenum">{165}</span> cautiously off the +twigs and leaves. As soon as he had accomplished that he stealthily +withdrew, stooped down, and crept along the Aivron bank until he was a +little ahead of the fish, which, indeed, was almost underneath his feet; +then he suddenly raised himself to his full height and threw up both +arms. That was enough for the salmon. Away to the other side he rushed, +leading down-stream; and Lionel had now his work cut out for him, for he +was standing in deep water, on a shelving bank of loose shingle, and he +had to follow somehow, reeling in as best he might. But ever, as he +struggled after that obdurate, unseen creature, he made for shallower +water; and at length he reached dry land, and was glad to give the rod +into Miss Honnor's hands again—the fish, which had never once shown +himself, being now almost opposite her and in mid-channel.</p> + +<p>Well, they had a good deal of trouble with this salmon, for he did not +exhaust himself with any further rushes, nor did he disport himself in +the air; he simply lay low in the water, in a pretty strong current, and +awaited events. But here in the open Miss Honnor had regained her +confidence and usual composure; and in the end the continuous pressure +of the green-heart top was too much for him; he began to yield—fiercely +fighting now and again to get away, to be sure; but the climax was a +sudden flash of Robert's steel clip, and a heavy-shouldered +fifteen-pounder was out on the stones. Old Robert, smiling grimly at the +success of his young mistress, but saying nothing, had to "wet" the fish +all by himself; for Miss Honnor's drink was water; and as for Lionel, +his throat was too valuable and sensitive a possession to be treated to +raw spirits at that time of the morning. Then, that ceremony being over, +they deposited the salmon in a hole in the bank, to be picked up on +their homeward journey, and forthwith set out again, up the valley of +the Geinig.</p> + +<p>Their surroundings were now becoming more wild and lonely—this, in +fact, being the route by which Lionel had travelled the day before when +he was after the deer. Down in the glen, it is true, everything was +pretty enough—the silver-gray rocks, the rushing brown water, the banks +hanging with birches; but far away on those upland heights there was +nothing but the monotonous deep purple of the heather, broken here and +there, perhaps, by a dark-green pine; and beyond those heights again<!-- Page 166 --><span class="pagenum">{166}</span> +rose the rounded tops and shoulders of the distant cloud-stained hills. +It was after Miss Honnor had industriously but unsuccessfully fished the +Horseshoe and the Cormorant Pool that she chanced to be regarding that +mountainous line along the sky; and she then perceived that one of those +far shoulders was gradually changing from a sombre blue into a soft and +pearly gray.</p> + +<p>"Do you see the veil that has come over the high peak yonder?" she asked +of her companion. "There is rain falling there; and most likely we shall +have a shower or two here by and by; and, as you have no waterproof, we +may as well push on to a place of shelter where we can have our lunch. I +know a pretty little dell up there, just above the Geinig Pool; and it +will be quite a new sensation for me to have any one with me, for +ordinarily I have my lunch there, in solitary state, and I sit and +stare, and sit and stare, until I believe I know every stone in the burn +and every spear of grass on the opposite bank."</p> + +<p>Even as she spoke there was a slight pattering here in the sunlight, and +diamonds began to glitter on the brackan. Then came a cold stirring of +wind; there was a sensation of darkness overhead—of impending gloom—of +hushed expectancy; finally, just as they reached the little glade, +descended into it, crossed the burn, and took refuge beneath some +overhanging birch trees, the heavy rattle of the deluge was heard all +around them, and they wore glad enough to be under this canopy of +trembling leaves. It was only a sharp shower, after all. That universal +whir grew fainter; the air became warmer; a kind of watery glow began to +show itself in the sky; presently, as they ventured to look up through +the dripping, pendulous branches, there was a glimpse of heavenly blue +above them; behold, the rain was over and gone!</p> + +<p>Then carefully did the handsome old gillie spread out her waterproof on +the sloping bank for Miss Honnor to sit on; he brought forth the little +parcels neatly tied up in white paper, likewise a bottle of milk and two +silver drinking-cups; when he had seen that she was all properly cared +for, he handed to Lionel the game-bag which had held the luncheon, so +that that might serve as the other seat, if he chose; and then the old +man withdrew a few yards down the little hollow, to be within call if he +were wanted.<!-- Page 167 --><span class="pagenum">{167}</span></p> + +<p>And what had Lionel to say for himself, now that he had been admitted +into this secret haunt of the river-maiden? Well, if the truth must be +told, he was considerably embarrassed. For one thing, he was mortally +afraid that she might suddenly bethink herself of Paul and Virginia, and +be annoyed by a situation which was certainly none of his contriving. +What was still worse, she might be amused! He could not get it out of +his head that there was something dangerously, almost ludicrously, +conventional in the whole position; it seemed to suggest some foolish, +old-fashioned, sentimental picture. The solitary dell, and the two +figures; why, he felt as if blue ribbons were beginning to sprout at his +knees; and he feared to turn to his companion lest he should find her +with a crook and a kirtle. He did not ask himself why wretched +reminiscences of theatrical tradition should thrust themselves upon him +here in the lonely wilds of Ross-shire; what he dreaded was that some +such idea might occur to her and provoke her resentment—what was still +more ghastly, it might make her laugh!</p> + +<p>Honnor Cunyngham, for her part, was quietly and contentedly munching her +sandwiches of salmon and vinegared lettuce-leaf; and no such idle +town-fancies were troubling her. Probably she was thinking that the hot +sunlight after the shower made everything intensely vivid—the +silver-stemmed birches in this picturesque little dell rising gracefully +into the keen blue of the sky; the diamond-starred bracken and grass +shining after the wet; the clear, tea-brown water at her feet glancing +in the sun; the green and bronze stones and pebbles showing clear at the +bottom of the pellucid brook as it chased and danced on its way down to +the Geinig. And whatever else she may have been thinking of, she was +almost certainly conscious that vinegared lettuce-leaf in a sandwich was +a vast improvement.</p> + +<p>"Do you come here often?" he said, at length.</p> + +<p>"It is my favorite nook," she made answer.</p> + +<p>"I confess that I feel horribly like an interloper," he remarked, +hesitatingly. "I feel as if I—as if I had no right to be here—as if I +were invading a sacred retreat—" and there he stopped; for he would +have liked to add, "the sacred retreat of a sylvan goddess or a nymph of +the stream," but that he somehow felt that fantastic imagery of that +kind would hardly be appropriate.<!-- Page 168 --><span class="pagenum">{168}</span></p> + +<p>"You had more need of the shelter than I," said this extremely +matter-of-fact young person, "for you had no waterproof, and I had. +Come, if you have finished, shall we go up to the Top Pool?—I want you +to have a cast over that, for it is an experience; and, though the sun +is out, it won't much matter; there is always such a boiling and surging +in that caldron."</p> + +<p>Old Robert, whose head was just visible above the bracken, was thereupon +called to pack up the remains of the simple feast, and then they set +forth again—skirting, but not troubling the Geinig Pool, for the sun +was too strong. A beautiful pool was this Geinig Pool—the water coming +tumbling down over the boulders in masses of chestnut hue and white, +then sailing away in a rapid sweep of purplish blue, and then breaking +over shallows (whose every ripple was a flashing diamond point) as it +went whirling into the rocky channel beyond. The sun lay hot on the +steep banks, where not a leaf of the birch-trees stirred now, and on the +lichened rocks, and on the long strand of lilac-gray pebbles; altogether +a beautiful pool this was, set deep in its cup among the hills, but for +their present purposes useless.</p> + +<p>The Top Pool, which they presently reached, was altogether a different +sort of place; for here the waters plunged into a roaring caldron with a +din that stunned the ears; and now it was that Lionel discovered Miss +Honnor's intention—he was to have the amusement of throwing a fly over +this maelstrom from the side of the sheer bank, while the only foothold +afforded him was the stump of an out-projecting pine. Well, he was not +going to refuse—and ask a young lady to take his place. He dug his feet +into the soft herbage about the roots of the tree; old Robert handed him +the rod; he got out some line; and then began to try how he could get a +fly down into that raging vortex, while keeping clear of the branches +over his head. His first impression was that he might as well attempt to +throw a fly to the moon, but presently things began to look more +hopeful, and he found at length that, when the fly did get just beyond +the downward rush of the fall, it was swept by the current into certain +glassy deeps, where he could work it pretty well. Hard as he labored, +however, that jerking little gray shrimp (for that was what the fly +looked like in the water) could not stir anything. He worked away until +even the indefatigable Robert<!-- Page 169 --><span class="pagenum">{169}</span> said he had done enough; then he reeled +up; and perhaps he was not sorry to regain the top of this sheer +precipice, where there was but that single fir-stump and a few loose +branches of birch between him and the seething and surging whirlpool +below.</p> + +<p>He was more fortunate in the Geinig Pool, which Miss Cunyngham also +compelled him to take, good-naturedly remarking that she had her fish +already, and that he must have its fellow to carry home in the evening. +There were some welcome clouds about now, and the rock from which he had +to cast over the Geinig Pool afforded him a much better foothold than +the fir-roots. At first things did not seem favorable, for he went over +all the deep, smooth water without moving a fin; in fact, he had fished +almost right to the end of the pool, when, in the very act of recovering +his line, he got hold of something. And very soon he found that he had +got hold of a very lively something; for the cantrips which this small +salmon played were most extraordinary. For a second or two he seemed +inclined to go right down the stony channel (which would have instantly +settled the matter, as there was no possible means of following him), +but the next moment he had dashed right up through the middle of the +pool, tearing the water as he went, and frightening the luckless +fisherman half out of his wits with this dangerously slackening line. +That, however, was soon righted; and now the salmon lay in an eddy just +below the fall. Would he attempt to breast that bulk of water in a mad +effort to be free of this hateful thing that had got hold of him?—then +good-bye to him forever! But no—that was not his fancy; he suddenly +sprang into the air—and again sprang—and then savagely beat the +surface with body and tail; after which fearsome performance he swerved +round and came right in under the rock on which Lionel was standing, +where they could see him lying perfectly still in the deep, clear water. +He neither tugged nor bored; that olive-green thing (for so he appeared +in these depths) lay perfectly motionless—no doubt planning further +devilment and only waiting to recover his strength. Meanwhile Lionel had +scrambled a bit higher up the rock, so as to get the rod at a safer +angle.</p> + +<p>"He's a lively fellow, that one!" old Robert said, with a grin. "Ay, +sir, and ye hooked him ferry well, too."<!-- Page 170 --><span class="pagenum">{170}</span></p> + +<p>"I should say I did!" Lionel exclaimed. "I had no idea there was a fish +there—I never saw him coming—I was drawing the line out of the water, +and all at once thought I had struck on a log. He's well hooked, I +should think; but I didn't hook him—he hooked himself."</p> + +<p>"He's not a ferry big one, but he's a salmon whatever," old Robert said; +and then he suddenly called out, "Mind, sir!—let him go!—let him go!"</p> + +<p>For away went that little wretch again, tearing over to the other side, +where he lashed and better lashed the surface; and then, getting tired +of that exercise, he somewhat sullenly came sailing into mid-stream, +where there was a smooth, dark current, bounded on the side next the +fisherman by some brown shelves of rock only a few inches under water. +And what must this demon of a fish do but begin boring into the stream, +so that every moment the line was being drawn nearer and nearer to the +knife-like edge.</p> + +<p>"Here, Robert, what am I to do now?" Lionel cried, in dismay. "Another +couple of inches, and it's all over! How are we to get him out of that +hole?"</p> + +<p>"Mebbe he'll no go mich deeper," Robert observed, calmly, but with his +gray eyes keenly watching.</p> + +<p>"If I lose this fish," Lionel said, between his teeth, "I'll throw +myself into the pool after him!"</p> + +<p>"You'd better not," said Miss Cunyngham, placidly, "for if Robert has to +gaff you, you'll find it a very painful experience."</p> + +<p>But now the line was slackening a little; the fisherman reeled in +quickly; the salmon made his appearance—undoubtedly yielding; and then, +coming over the shallow rocks in obedience to the pressure of the rod, +he once more sailed into the black, clear pool just below them. +Cautiously old Robert crept down. When he was close to the water, he +bared his right arm and grasped the gaff by the handle; then he waited +and watched, for the salmon was still too deep. Lionel, meanwhile, had +got back a bit on the rock, so that any sudden rush might not snap the +top of his rod in two; then he also waited and watched, but somewhat +increasing the pressure on the fish. Miss Honnor was probably as +interested as either of them, but she only said,</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf170" id="illusf170"></a> +<img src="images/illusf170.jpg" alt=""Cautiously old Robert crept down. When he was close to the water, he bared his right arm and grasped the gaff by the handle."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>Cautiously old Robert crept down. When he was close to the water, + he bared his right arm and grasped the gaff by the handle.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<!-- Page 171 --><p><span class="pagenum">{171}</span></p> + +<p>"I think he is well-hooked, and you'll get him, but don't bear too +hardly on him for all that."</p> + +<p>The conclusion of the fight proved to be a series of rapid and cautious +skirmishes between the salmon and old Robert; for, as soon as the former +discovered that danger awaited him at the foot of the rock, he made +every possible effort to break away, and then, getting more and more +exhausted, allowed himself to be led in again. And then at last, on his +sailing in almost on his side, so dead beat was he, a firm stroke of the +gaff caught him behind the shoulder, and the next moment he was in +mid-air, the next again on the bare rock.</p> + +<p>Now when you have slain a stag one day, it is not so much of a triumph +to kill a salmon the next; nevertheless Lionel was as heartily glad to +see that fish ashore as he would have been deeply mortified had it +escaped. For was not Honnor Cunyngham looking on? Nay, she was kind +enough to say to him,</p> + +<p>"You played that fish very well, Mr. Moore."</p> + +<p>"I have been watching you so often," said he, modestly, "that I must +have learned something. And now you must take all the pools on the way +home. I won't touch the rod again unless when wading is absolutely +necessary. You see. I have no right to this salmon at all; I consider +you have made me a present of him."</p> + +<p>"We must try and get another somehow, between us, before getting back to +the lodge," said she; and this unconscious coupling of themselves as +companions sounded pleasant to his ears.</p> + +<p>Moreover, as old Robert had now the fish to carry, Lionel, as usual, +made bold to claim Miss Honnor's waterproof, which he slung over his +arm; and that also was a privilege he greatly enjoyed. Indeed, his +satisfaction as they now proceeded to walk along to the Horseshoe Pool +was but natural in the circumstances. This charming companionship +secured all to himself—the capture of the salmon—the tribute that had +been paid to his skill—the magnetic waterproof hanging over his +arm—the prospect of a long ramble home on this beautiful afternoon: all +these things combined were surely sufficient to put any young man in an +excellent humor. And there was something more in store for him.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," he was saying, as they walked along together,<!-- Page 172 --><span class="pagenum">{172}</span> "that I +have grown quite used to the solitariness of this neighborhood? I don't +find it strange, or melancholy, or oppressive any longer. I suppose when +I get back to a crowded city, the roar of it will be absolutely +bewildering; indeed, I am looking forward with a good deal of interest +to seeing something of the world again at Kilfearn—which can't be a +very big place either."</p> + +<p>"Oh, are you going to the opening of the Kilfearn Town Hall?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, with a little surprise, "I thought everybody was going. +Aren't you? I understood the whole world—of Ross-shire—was to be +there, and that I was to make a sudden plunge into a perfect whirlpool +of human life."</p> + +<p>"It will amuse you," she said, with a quiet smile. "You will see all the +county families there, staring at one another's guests; and you will +hear a lot of songs, like 'My Pretty Jane' and 'Ever of Thee,' sung by +bashful young ladies. At the opening of the proceedings my brother Hugh +will make a speech; he is their chairman, and I know precisely what he +will say. Hugh always speaks to the point. It will be something like +this: 'Ladies and gentlemen, I am glad to see you here to-night. We +still want £180. We mean to give two more concerts to clear the debt +right off. You must all come and bring your friends. I will not longer +stand in the way of the performers who have kindly volunteered their +services.'"</p> + +<p>"And that is a most admirable speech," her companion exclaimed. "It says +everything that is wanted and nothing more; I call it a model speech!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," she said, suddenly looking up, "are you going to sing at +the concert?"</p> + +<p>"I believe so," he answered.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to sing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know yet. Whatever I am asked for. Lady Adela is arranging +the programme." And then he added, rather breathlessly, "Is there +anything you would care to have me sing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell you the truth," said she, quite frankly, "I hardly +intended going. But if I thought there was a chance of hearing you sing +some such song as 'The Bonnie Earl o' Moray,' I would go."<!-- Page 173 --><span class="pagenum">{173}</span></p> + +<p>"'The Bonnie Earl o' Moray?'" he said, eagerly. "The song that Miss +Lestrange sang the other night?"</p> + +<p>"The song that Miss Lestrange made a fool of the other night," she said, +contemptuously. "But if <i>you</i> were to sing it, you would make it very +fine and impressive. I should like to hear you sing that in a large +hall."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but certainly I will sing it!" he said, quickly, for he was only +too rejoiced that she should prefer this small request, as showing that +she did take some little interest in him and what he could do. "I will +make a stipulation that I sing it, if I sing anything. Miss Lestrange +won't mind, I know."</p> + +<p>"I almost think you should go under an assumed name," Miss Honnor said, +presently, with a bit of a laugh. "I dare say the people wouldn't +recognise you in ordinary dress. And then, when the amateur vocalists +had been going on with their Pretty-Janes and Meet-Me-by-Moonlights, +when you gave them 'The Bonnie Earl o' Moray,' as you would sing it, I +should think amazement would be on most faces. But I dare say Lady Adela +has had it announced in the <i>Inverness Courier</i> that you are to sing, +for they want to make a grand success of the concert, to help to clear +off the debt; and of course all the people from the shooting-lodges will +be coming, for it isn't every autumn they have a chance of hearing Mr. +Lionel Moore in Ross-shire."</p> + +<p>Really, she was becoming quite complaisant!—this proud, unapproachable +fisher-maiden, who seemed to live, remote and isolated, in a world all +of her own. And so she was coming to this amateur concert, merely to +hear him sing? Be sure the first thing he did that evening, on entering +the drawing-room after dinner, was to go up to Miss Georgie Lestrange +with a humble little speech, asking her whether she would object to his +borrowing that particular ballad from her repertory. The smiling and +gracious young damsel instantly replied that, on the contrary, she would +be delighted to play the accompaniment for him. Would he look at the +music now? He did look at it; found it simple enough; imagined that the +refrain verse might be made rather effective. Would he try it over now? +Yes, if she would be so kind. She forthwith went to the piano, he +following; and at once there was silence in the long, low-ceilinged +drawing-room. Of course this was but a trial, and<!-- Page 174 --><span class="pagenum">{174}</span> the room had not been +constructed with a view to any acoustic requirements; nevertheless, the +fine and penetrating <i>timbre</i> of his trained voice told all the same; +indeed, it is probable there was a lump in the throat of more than one +of those young ladies when he sang the pathetic refrain, with its proud +and sonorous finish—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"O lang may his lady-love</div> +<div class="versei1">Look frae the Castle Doune,</div> +<div class="verse">Ere she see the Earl o' Moray</div> +<div class="versei1">Come sounding through the toun."</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Simple as the air was, it haunted the ear even of this professional +vocalist all the evening; but perhaps that was because he was looking +forward to a coming occasion on which he would have to sing the ballad; +and well he knew that however numerous his audience might be—though he +might be standing before all the Rosses and Frasers, the Gordons and +Munroes, the Mackays and Mackenzies of the county—well he knew that he +would be singing—that he intended to sing—to an audience of one only. +And which would she like to have emphasized the more—the pathetic and +hopeless outlook of the lady in the tower, or the proud state and +ceremony of the earl himself as he used to "come sounding through the +toun"? Well, he would practise a little, and ascertain what he could do +with it—on some occasion when he found himself alone away up in the +hills, with a silence around him unbroken save for the hushed whisper of +the birch-leaves and the distant, low murmur of the Geinig falls.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h4>THE PHANTOM STAG.</h4> + + +<p>But if he were so anxious about how he should sing (for his audience of +one only) that old Scotch ballad, he was not acting very wisely, or else +he had a sublime confidence in the soundness of his chest; for on his +host's offering him another day's stalking, he cheerfully accepted the +same; and that notwithstanding they had now fallen upon a period of +extremely rough, cold, and wet weather. Was this another piece of +bravado, then—undertaken to produce a favorable impression in a +certain<!-- Page 175 --><span class="pagenum">{175}</span> quarter—or had the hunter's hunger really got hold of him? On +the evening before the appointed raid, even the foresters looked glum; +the western hills were ominous and angry, and the wind that came howling +down the strath seemed to foretell a storm. But he was not to be +daunted; he said he would give up only when Roderick assured him that +the expedition was quite impracticable and useless.</p> + +<p>"I hear you are going after the deer to-morrow," said the pretty Miss +Georgie Lestrange to him, in the drawing-room after dinner, while Lady +Sybil was performing her famous fantasia "The Voices of the Moonlight," +to which nobody listened but her own admiring self. "And I was told all +about that custom of making the stalker a little present on his setting +out, for good-luck. It was Honnor Cunyngham who did that for you last +time, and I think it should be my turn to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" said he; but "Thank you for nothing!" he said in his +heart; for why should any frivolous trinket—even when presented by this +very charming and complaisant young damsel—be allowed to interfere with +the prerogative of Miss Cunyngham's sacred talisman?</p> + +<p>"I say," continued the bright-eyed, ruddy-haired lass, "what do you and +Honnor Cunyngham talk about all day long, when you are away on those +fishing excursions? Don't you bore each other to death? Oh, I know she's +rather learned, though she doesn't bestow much of her knowledge upon us. +Well, I'm not going to say anything against Honnor, for she's so awfully +good-natured, you know; she allows her sisters-in-law to experiment on +her as an audience, and she has always something friendly and nice to +say, though I can guess what she thinks of it all. Now, what <i>do</i> you +two talk about all day long?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's the fishing," said he, "for one thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't tell me!" exclaimed this impertinent young hussy (while "The +Voices of the Moonlight" moaned and mourned their mysterious regrets and +despairs at the far end of the drawing-room). "Don't tell <i>me</i>! Honnor +Cunyngham is far too good-looking for you to go talking salmon to her +all day long. Very handsome I call her; don't you? She's so +distinguished, somehow—so different from any one else. Of course you +don't notice it up here so much, where she prides herself on roughing +it—you never met her in London?—in London you should see<!-- Page 176 --><span class="pagenum">{176}</span> her come +into a drawing-room—her walk and manner are simply splendid. She'll +never marry," continued this garrulous little person, with the +coquettish <i>pince-nez</i> perched on her not too Grecian nose. "I'm sure +she won't. She despises men—all of them except her brother, Sir Hugh. +Lord Rockminster admires her tremendously, but he's too lazy to say so, +I suppose. How has she taken such a fancy to you?"</p> + +<p>"I was not aware she had," Lionel discreetly made answer, though the +question had startled him, and not with pain.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, she has. Did she think you were lone and unprotected, being +persecuted by the rest of us? I am quite certain she wouldn't allow my +brother Percy to go fishing a whole day with her; most likely Lord +Rockminster wouldn't care to take the trouble. I wonder if she hasn't a +bit of a temper? Lady Rosamund is awful sometimes; but she doesn't show +that to <i>you</i>—catch her! But Honnor Cunyngham—well, the only time I +ever went with her on one of her storking expeditions, the water was +low, and she thrashed away for hours, and saw nothing. At last a stot +happened to come wandering along; and she said, quite savagely, 'I'm +going to hook something!' You don't know what a stot is?—it's a young +bullock. So she deliberately walked to within twenty yards or so of the +animal, threw the line so that it just dropped across its neck, and the +fly caught in the thick hair. You should have seen the gay performance +that followed! The beast shook its head and shook its head—for it could +feel the line, if it couldn't feel the fly; and then, getting alarmed, +it started off up the hill, with the reel squealing just as if a salmon +were on, and Honnor running after him as hard as she could over the +bracken and heather. If it were rage made her hook the stot, she was +laughing now—laughing so that when the beast stopped she could hardly +reel in the line. And old Robert—I thought he would have had a fit. +'Will I gaff him now, Miss Honnor?' he cried, as he came running along. +But the stot didn't mean to be gaffed. Off it set again; and Honnor +after it, until at last it caught the line in a birch-bush and broke it; +then, just as if nothing had happened, it began to graze, as usual. You +should have seen the game that began then—old Robert and Honnor trying +to get hold of the stot, so as to take the casting-line and the fly from +its mane—it isn't a mane, but you know—and the stot trying to butt +them whenever they<!-- Page 177 --><span class="pagenum">{177}</span> came near. The end of it was that the beast shook +off the fly for itself, and old Robert found it; but I wonder whether it +were real rage that made Honnor Cunyngham hook the stot—"</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" he said. "It was a mere piece of fun."</p> + +<p>"It isn't fun when Lady Rosamund comes down-stairs in a bad +temper—after you gentlemen have left," remarked Miss Georgie, +significantly; and then she prattled away in this careful undertone. +"What horrid stuff that fantasia is; don't you think so? A mixture of +Wagner, and Chopin, and 'Home, Sweet Home.' Lady Adela has put you in +her novel. Oh, yes, she has; she showed me the last pages this morning. +You remember the young married English lady who is a great +poetess?—well, she is rescued from drowning in the Bay of Syracuse by a +young Greek sailor, and you are the Greek sailor. You'll be flattered by +her description of you. You are entirely Greek and godlike—what is that +bust?—Alcibiades?—no, no, he was a general, wasn't he?—Alcinous, is +it?—or Antinous?—never mind, the bust you see so often in Florence and +Rome—well, you're described as being like that; and the young English +lady becomes your patron, and you're to be educated, and brought to +London. But whether her husband is to be killed off, to make way for +you, or whether she is going to hand you over to one of her sisters, I +don't know yet. It must be rather nice to look at yourself in a novel, +and see what other people think of you and what fate they ordain for +you. Lady Adela has got all the criticisms of her last novel—all the +nice ones, I mean—cut out and pasted on pages and bound in scarlet +morocco. I told her she should have all the unpleasant ones cut out and +bound in green—envy and jealousy, don't you see?—but she pretends not +to have seen any besides those she has kept. The book is in her own +room; I suppose she reads it over every night, before going to bed. And +really, after so much praise, it is extraordinary that she is to have no +money for the book—no, quite the reverse, I believe. She was looking +forward to making Sir Hugh a very handsome present—all out of her own +earnings, don't you know—and she wrote to the publishers; but, instead +of Sir Hugh getting a present, he will have to give her a check to cover +the deficit, poor man! Disappointing, isn't it?—quite horrid, I call +it; and every one thought the novel such a success—your friend, Mr. +Quirk, was most enthusiastic—and we made sure that the public<!-- Page 178 --><span class="pagenum">{178}</span> would be +equally impressed. It isn't the loss of the money that Lady Adela frets +about; it is the publishers telling her that so few copies have been +sold; and we made sure, from all that was said in the papers—especially +those that Mr. Quirk was kind enough to send—that the book was going to +be read everywhere. Mind you don't say anything of the young Greek +sailor until Lady Adela herself shows you the MS.; and of course you +mustn't recognize your own portrait, for that is merely a guess of mine. +Oh, thank you, thank you!"</p> + +<p>The last words were a murmur of gratitude to Lady Sybil Bourne for her +kindness in playing this piece of her own composition; and thereafter +Miss Georgie's engaging and instructive monologue was not resumed, for +the evening was now about to be wound up by a round or two of poker, and +at poker Miss Georgie was an eager adept.</p> + +<p>All that night it poured a deluge, and the morning beheld the Aivron in +roaring spate, the familiar landmarks of the banks having mostly +disappeared and also many of the mid-channel rocks; while the blue-black +current that came whirling down the strath seemed to bring with it the +dull, constant thunder of the distant falls. The western hills looked +wild and stormy; there was half a gale of wind tearing along the valley; +and, if the torrents of the night had mitigated, there were still flying +showers of rain that promised to make of the expedition anything but a +pleasure excursion.</p> + +<p>"Tell me if it is any use at all!" Lionel insisted, for it must be +confessed that the keepers looked very doubtful.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said the bushy-bearded Roderick, "the deer will be down +from the hills—oh, yes—but they'll be restless and moving about—"</p> + +<p>"Do you expect I shall have a chance at one—that's all I want to know," +was the next demand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, there may be that; but you'll get ahfu wet, sir—"</p> + +<p>"I'm going," said he, definitely; whereupon the pony was straightway +brought up to the door.</p> + +<p>And here was Miss Georgie Lestrange, in a charming morning costume, +which the male pen may not adequately describe, and she held a small +packet in her hands.</p> + +<p>"I told Honnor Cunyngham it was my turn," she said, with a kind of +bashful smile, as she handed the little present to him,<!-- Page 179 --><span class="pagenum">{179}</span> "and she only +laughed—I wonder if she thinks she can command all the luck in +Ross-shire; has she got a monopoly of it? Well, Mr. Moore, they all say +you'll get fearfully wet; and that is a silk handkerchief you must put +round your neck; what would the English public say if you went back from +the Highlands with a hoarse throat!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking of the English public just at present," said he, +cheerfully. "I'm thinking of the stag that is wandering about somewhere +up in the hills; and I am certain your good wishes will get me a shot at +him. How kind of you to get up so early!—good-bye!"</p> + +<p>This, it must be admitted, was a most hypocritical speech; for although, +as he rode away, he made a pretence of tying the pale pink neckerchief +round his throat, it was on the influence of Miss Cunyngham's lucky +sixpence—the pierced coin was secretly attached to his +watch-chain—that he relied. In fact, before he had gone far from the +lodge, he removed that babyish protection against the rain and stuck it +in his pocket; he was not going to throw out a red flag to warn the +deer.</p> + +<p>After all, the morning was not quite so dismal as had been threatened; +for now and again, as they went away up the strath, there was a break in +the heavy skies; and then the river shone a deep and brilliant +purple-blue—save where it came hurling in ale-hued masses over the +rocks, or rushed in surging white foam through the stony channels. +Sometimes a swift glimmer of sunlight smote down on the swinging +current; but these flashes were brief, for the louring clouds were still +being driven over from the west, and no one could tell what the day +would bring forth.</p> + +<p>"What will Miss Honnor do in a spate like that?" Lionel inquired of the +head keeper. "Will she go out at all?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay, Miss Honnor will go out," Roderick made answer; "but she will +only be able to fish the tail-ends o' the pools—ay, and it will not be +easy to put a fly over the water, unless the wind goes down a bit."</p> + +<p>"But do you mean she will go out on a day like this?" he demanded +again—as he looked at the wild skies and the thundering river.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay, if there's a chance at ahl Miss Honnor will be out," said +Roderick, and he added, with a demure smile, "even if the chentlemen +will be for staying at home."<!-- Page 180 --><span class="pagenum">{180}</span></p> + +<p>However, Lionel had soon to consider his own attitude towards this +swollen stream, when it became necessary to ford it on the hither side +of the Bad Step. To tell the truth, when he regarded that racing +current, he did not like the look of it at all.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how we are to get across," he said, with some hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Maggie knaws the weh," Roderick made answer, with a bit of a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's all very well," said the mounted huntsman. "I dare say she +knows the way; but if she gets knocked over in the middle of the +current, what is to become of me, or of her either?"</p> + +<p>"She'll manage it, sir," said the keeper, confidently, "never fear."</p> + +<p>Lionel was just on the point of saying, "Well, you come yourself and +ride her across, and I'll go over the Bad Step on foot," but he did not +like to show the white feather; so, somewhat apprehensively, he turned +the old pony's head to the river-bank. And very soon he found that old +Maggie knew much better what she was about than he did; for, as soon as +she felt the weight of the water, she did not attempt to go straight +across; she deliberately turned her head down-stream, put her buttocks +against the force of the current, and thus sideways, and very +cautiously, and with many a thrilling stumble and catching up again, she +proceeded to ford this whirling Aivron. Never once did she expose +herself broadside; her hind-legs were really doing most of the fight; +and right gratefully did Lionel clap the neck of this wise beast when he +found himself on solid land. The ford farther up was much less +dangerous; and so once again the reunited party held on its way.</p> + +<p>Then here was the Geinig—no longer the pretty and picturesque river +that he knew, but a boiling and surging torrent sweeping in red wrath +down its narrow and rocky channel. The farther heights, too, that now +came into view, had lost their wonted pale and ethereal hues: there were +no soft cloud-stains on the purple slopes of heather—a darkness dwelt +over the land. As he gradually got up into that wilder country, the +gloom grew more intense, the desolation more awful. The roar of the +Geinig was lost now in this dreadful silence. He seemed to have left +behind him all human sympathies and associations—to have forsaken<!-- Page 181 --><span class="pagenum">{181}</span> his +kindred and his kind—to have entered a strange world peopled only with +dark phantoms and moving shadows and ghosts. A voiceless solitude, too, +save for the moaning of the wind that came sweeping in bitter blasts +down from the rainy hills. He did not recognize the features of this +melancholy landscape; they had all changed since his last visit; nay, +they were changing under his very eyes, as this or that far mountain-top +receded behind a veil of gray, or a shadow of greater darkness advanced +with stealthy tread along one of those lonely glens. There was something +threatening in the aspect of both earth and sky; something louring, +conspiring, as if some dread fate were awaiting this intruding stranger; +at times he fancied he could hear low-murmuring voices, the first +mutterings of distant thunder. What if some red bolt of lightning were +suddenly to sever this blackness in twain and reveal its hidden and +awful secrets? But no; there was no such friendly or avenging glare; the +brooding skies lay over the sombre valleys, and the gloomy +phantasmagoria slowly changed and changed in that unearthly twilight, as +the mists and the wind and the rain transformed the solid hills and the +straths into intermingling vapors and visions. A spectral world, unreal, +and yet terrible; apparently voiceless and tenantless; and yet somehow +suggesting that there were eyes watching, and vaguely moving and +menacing shapes passing hither and thither before him in the gloom.</p> + +<p>During these last few days he had been assuring himself that he would +enter upon this second stalking expedition without any great tremor. It +was only on the first occasion, when everything was strange and unknown +to him, that he was naturally nervous. Even the keepers had declared +that the shooting of the first stag was everything; that thereafter he +would have confidence; that he would take the whole matter as coolly as +themselves. And yet, when they now began to proceed more warily (old +Maggie having been hobbled some way back) and when every corrie and +slope and plateau had to be searched with the glass, he found himself +growing not a little anxious at the thought of drawing the trigger; +insomuch, indeed, that those sombre fancies of the imagination went out +of his head altogether and gave place to the apprehension that on such a +day it would be difficult to make a good shot. Their initial difficulty, +however, was to find any trace of the "beasts." The<!-- Page 182 --><span class="pagenum">{182}</span> wild weather had +most likely driven them away from their usual haunts into some place of +shelter, the smaller companies joining the main herd; at all events, up +to lunch-time the stalkers had seen nothing. It was during this brief +rest—in a deep peat-hag, down which trickled a little stream of +rain-water—that Lionel discovered two things: first, that he was wet to +the skin, and, second, that the wind in these altitudes was of an Arctic +keenness. So long as he had been kept going, he had not paid much +attention; but now this bitter blast seemed to pierce him to the very +marrow; and he began to think that these were very pleasant conditions +for a professional singer to be in—for a professional singer whose very +existence depended on his voice.</p> + +<p>"Here goes for congestion of the lungs," he philosophically observed to +himself, as he shiveringly munched his wet sandwiches.</p> + +<p>Presently Roderick came along the peat-hag.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to wait here, sir, for a while?" said he, in his +accustomed undertone. "I'm thinking Alec and me will go aweh up to the +top of Meall-Breac and hef a look round there; and if we are seeing +nothing, we will come back this weh and go down the Corrie-nam-Miseag—"</p> + +<p>"And I am to wait here for you?" Lionel exclaimed. "Not if I know it! By +the time you come back, Roderick, you would find me a frozen corpse. +I've got to keep moving somehow, and I may as well go on with you. I +suppose I cannot have a cigarette before setting out?"</p> + +<p>"Aw, naw, sir!" Roderick pleaded. "In this weather, you cannot say where +the deer may be—you may happen on them at any moment—and there will be +plenty of time for you to smok on the weh hom."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Lionel said; and he got up and tried to shake his blood +into freer circulation; then he set out with his two companions for the +summit of Meall-Breac.</p> + +<p>This steep ascent was fatiguing enough; but, at all events, it restored +some warmth to his body. He did not go quite to the top; he sat down on +a lichened stone, while Roderick proceeded to crawl, inch by inch, until +his head and glass were just over the crest of a certain knoll. A long +scrutiny followed; then the forester slowly disappeared—the gillie +following in his serpent-like track; and Lionel sat on in apathetic +patience,<!-- Page 183 --><span class="pagenum">{183}</span> slowly getting chilled again. He asked himself what Nina +would say to him if she knew of these escapades. He held his back to the +wind until he was frozen that way; then he turned his face to the chill +blast, folding his arms across his chest. He took a sip from Percy +Lestrange's flask; but that was more for employment than anything else, +for he discovered there was no real warmth to be got that way. He +thought Roderick was never coming back from the top of the hill. He +would have started off down the ascent again, but that they might miss +him; besides, he might do something fatally wrong. So he sat on this +cold stone and shivered, and began to think of Kensal Green.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him; he turned and found the two men +coming towards him.</p> + +<p>"Not a sign of anything, sir," was Roderick's report. "It's awfu' dark +and difficult to see, and the clouds are down all along Glen Bhoideach. +We'll just step along by the Corrie-nam-Miseag. They very often stop for +a while in the corrie when they're crossing over to Achnadruim."</p> + +<p>Lionel was not sorry to be again in motion, and yet very soon he found +that motion was not an unmixed joy; for these two fellows, who were now +going down wind along the route they had come, and therefore walking +fearlessly, took enormously long strides and held straight on, no matter +what sort of ground they were covering. For the sake of his country, he +fought hard to keep up with them; he would not have them say they could +outwalk an Englishman—and an Englishman considerably younger than +either of them; but the way those two went over this rough and broken +land was most extraordinary. And it seemed so easy; they did not appear +to be putting forth any exertion; in spite of all he could do, he began +to lag a little; and so he thought he would mitigate their ardor by +engaging them in a little conversation.</p> + +<p>"Roderick," said he, "do you think this neighborhood was ever +inhabited?"</p> + +<p>"Inhabited?" said Roderick, turning in surprise. "Oh, ay, it was +inhabited ahlways—by foxes and eagles."</p> + +<p>"Not by human beings?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they would be ferry clever that could get a living out of land +like this," Roderick said, simply.<!-- Page 184 --><span class="pagenum">{184}</span></p> + +<p>"But they say in the House of Commons that the deer-forests are +depriving a large portion of the population of a means of subsistence," +Lionel observed—rather breathlessly, for these long strides were +fearful.</p> + +<p>"Ay, do they say that now?" Roderick made answer, with much simplicity. +"In the House of Commons? I'm thinking there is some foolish men in the +House of Commons. Mebbe they would not like themselves to come here and +try to get their living out of rocks and peat-hags."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think there may have been people in these parts before +the ancient forests rotted down into peat?" Lionel again inquired.</p> + +<p>"I do not know about that," Roderick said, discreetly; perhaps he knew +that his opinions about prehistoric man were not of great value.</p> + +<p>But what Lionel discovered was that talking in no wise interfered with +the tremendous pace of the forester; and he was just on the point of +begging for a respite from this intolerable exertion when a change in +their direction caused both Roderick and the gillie to proceed more +circumspectly: they were now coming in view of the Corrie-nam-Miseag, +and they had to approach with care, slinking along through hollows and +behind mounds and rocks.</p> + +<p>By this time, it must be confessed, Lionel was thoroughly dead-beat: he +was wet through, icily cold, and miserable to the verge of despair. The +afternoon was well advanced; they had seen no sign of a stag anywhere; +the gloomy evening threatened to bring darkness on prematurely; and but +for very shame's sake, he would have entreated them to abandon this +fruitless enterprise, and set out for the far-off region of warmth and +reasonable comfort and dry clothes. And yet when Roderick, having +crawled up to the top of a small height, suddenly and eagerly signalled +for Lionel to follow him, all this hopeless lassitude was instantly +forgotten. His heart began to burn, if his limbs were deadly cold; and +quickly he was on the ground, too, moving himself up alongside the +keeper. The glass was given him, but his trembling fingers could not +hold it straight; he put it down, and by and by his natural eyes showed +him what he thought were some slightly moving objects.</p> + +<p>"There's two of them—two stags," Roderick whispered, "and<!-- Page 185 --><span class="pagenum">{185}</span> we can get +at them easily if there's no more wandering about that I cannot see. +Mebbe the others are over that hull. There's one of them is a fine big +beast, but he has only the one horn; the other one, his head is not +ferry good. But a stag is a stag whatever; and the evening is wearing +on. Now come aweh with me, sir."</p> + +<p>What Roderick meant by getting at them easily Lionel was now to find +out; he thought he would never have done with this agonizing stooping +and crawling and wading through burns. Long before they had got to the +neighborhood of the deer, he wished heartily that the night would come +suddenly down, or the stags take the alarm and make off—anything, so +that he might be released from this unspeakable toil and suffering. And +yet he held on, in a sort of blind, despairing fashion; the idea in his +head being that if nature gave way he would simply lie down and fall +asleep in the heather—whether to wake again or not he hardly cared. But +by and by he was to have his reward. Roderick was making for a certain +cluster of rocks; and when these were reached, Lionel found, to his +inexpressible joy, not only that he was allowed to stand upright, but +that the stalk had been accomplished. By peering over one of the +boulders, he could see both stags quietly feeding at something like +seventy yards' distance. It was going to be an easy shot in every way; +himself in ample concealment; a rock on which to rest his rifle; the +deer without thought of danger. He would take his time and calm down his +nerves.</p> + +<p>"Which one?" he whispered to Roderick.</p> + +<p>"The one with the one horn is a fine beast," the keeper whispered in +return; "and the other one, his head is worth nothing at all."</p> + +<p>With extremest caution Lionel put the muzzle over the ledge of the rock, +and pushed it quietly forward. He made sure of his footing. He got hold +of the barrel with his left hand, and of the stock with his right; he +fixed the rifle firmly against his shoulder, and took slow and steady +aim. He was not so nervous this time; indeed, everything was in his +favor: the stag standing broadside on and hardly moving, and this rock +offering so convenient a rest. He held his breath for a +moment—concentrated all his attention on the long, smooth barrel—and +fired.<!-- Page 186 --><span class="pagenum">{186}</span></p> + +<p>"You've got him, sir!" exclaimed Roderick, in an eager whisper, and +still keeping his head down; but seeing that the other stag had caught +sight of the rifle-smoke and was off at the top of his speed, he rose +from his place of concealment and jumped on to the rock that had been +hiding him.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir, he'll no go far," he cried to Lionel, who was scrambling +up to the same place. "There, he's down again on his knees. Come aweh, +sir? we'll go after him. Give me the rifle."</p> + +<p>Lionel had just time to get a glimpse of the wounded stag, which was +stumbling pitifully along—far behind its now disappearing +companion—when he had to descend from the rock in order to follow +Roderick. All three ran quickly down the hill and rounded into the +hollow where they had last seen the stag, following up his track, and +looking out everywhere for his prostrate body. But the farther they +went, the more amazed became Roderick and the gillie; there was no sign +of the beast that both of them declared could not have run a couple of +hundred yards. The track of him disappeared in the bed of a burn and +could not be recovered, search as they would; so they proceeded to +explore every adjacent hollow and peat-bag, in the certainty that within +a very few minutes they must find the lost quarry. The few minutes +lengthened out and out; half-hours went by; and yet there was no sign. +They went away down the burn; they went away up the burn; they made +wider casts, and narrowed in, like so many retrievers; and all to no +purpose. And meanwhile darkness and the night were coming on.</p> + +<p>"He's lying dead somewhere, as sure as anything can be," Roderick said, +looking entirely puzzled and crestfallen; "and we'll hef to bring up a +terrier in the morning and search for him. I never sah the like o' that +in my life. When he fell where he stood I made sure he was feenished; +then he was up again and ran a little weh, and again he went down on his +knees—"</p> + +<p>"It was then I saw him," Lionel exclaimed, "and I expected him to drop +the next moment. Why, he <i>must</i> be about here, Roderick, he couldn't +vanish into the air—he wasn't a ghost—for I heard the thud of the +bullet when it struck him—"</p> + +<p>"Ay, and me too," Roderick said, "but we will do no good<!-- Page 187 --><span class="pagenum">{187}</span> now, for it is +getting so dark; and you hef to cross the two fords, sir—"</p> + +<p>"The fords!" said Lionel. "By Jove! I forgot them. I say, we must hurry +on. I suppose you are sure to find him in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"We will bring up a terrier whatever," Roderick said, doubtfully; for he +seemed to have been entirely disconcerted by the disappearance of the +phantom stag. "Ay, I hef known them rin a long weh after being +wounded—miles and miles they will go—but this wan wass so hard hit, I +thought he would drop directly. The teffle tek him—I could hef given +him the other barrel myself!"</p> + +<p>And still they seemed loath to leave the ground, notwithstanding the +gathering darkness. They kept wandering about, examining and searching; +until it was quite obvious that even if the stag were lying within easy +distance of them they could hardly distinguish it; so finally they +withdrew, beaten and baffled, and made away down to the lower country, +where the old pony Maggie was probably wondering at their unusual length +of absence.</p> + +<p>That was a sombre ride home. It was now raining heavily; and all the +night seemed to be filled with a murmuring of streams and a moaning of +winds among the invisible hills. Roderick walked by the pony's head; and +Lionel could just make him out, and no more, so pitch dark it was. Of +course he had no idea of the route he was taking or of the nature of the +ground they were getting over; but he could guess from Maggie's cautious +steps when they were going over rough places, or he could hear the +splash of her feet when they were crossing a swamp. Not a word was +uttered; no doubt all the forester's attention was bent on making out a +path; while as for Lionel, he was too wet and cold and miserable to +think of talking to anybody. If he had certainly known that somewhere or +other he had left up there a stag, which they could bring down in the +morning, that would have consoled him somewhat; but it was just as +likely as not that all this privation and fatigue had been endured for +nothing. As they trudged along through the gloomy night, the rain fell +more heavily than ever, and the bitter wind seemed to search out every +bone in his body.</p> + +<p>And then when at length they came within sound of the Geinig, that was +no longer a friendly voice welcoming them<!-- Page 188 --><span class="pagenum">{188}</span> back to more familiar +regions; it was an angry and threatening roar; he could see nothing; he +could only imagine the wild torrent hurling along through this black +desolation.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Roderick," he said, "mind you keep away from that river. If +we should stumble down one of the steep banks, we should never be heard +of again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay, we're a long distance from the ruvver? and it is as well to +keep aweh; for if we were to get into the Geinig to-night, we would be +tekken down like straws."</p> + +<p>And how welcome was the small red ray that told of the shepherd's +cottage just below the juncture of the Geinig and Aivron. It was a +cheerful beacon; it spoke of human association and companionship; the +moan of the hurrying Aivron seemed to have less of boding in it now. It +is true they still had the two fords to encounter, and another long and +weary tramp, before they got back to the lodge; but here at least was +some assurance that they were out of those storm-haunted solitudes where +the night was now holding high revel. That ray of light streaming from +the solitary little window seemed to Lionel a blessed thing; it served +to dissipate the horrors of this murmuring and threatening blackness all +around him; it cheered and warmed his heart; it was a joyful assurance +that they were on the right way for home. When they reached the cottage, +they knocked at the door; and presently there was a delightful, ruddy +glow in the midst of the dark. Would the gentleman not come in and warm +himself at the fire and get his clothes dried? No: Lionel said that +getting wet through once was better than getting wet through twice; he +would go on as he was. But might he have a glass of milk? The shepherd +disappeared, and returned with a tumbler of milk and a piece of oatcake; +and never in his life had the famous baritone from the far city of +London tasted anything sweeter, for he was half-dead with hunger. +Greatly refreshed by this opportune bit and sup, the tired and "droukit" +rider cheerfully resumed his way; and it was with a stout heart that, +after a certain time, he found Roderick cautiously leading the pony down +to the water's edge. And then a sudden thought struck him.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Roderick," said he, "I suppose I can get across this ford +safely enough; but how on earth am I to know when I get to the next one? +I can't see a yard in front of the pony's head."<!-- Page 189 --><span class="pagenum">{189}</span></p> + +<p>"I'm coming with ye, sir," was the simple answer; and at the same moment +there was a general splashing which told him that both Maggie and the +tall keeper were in the rushing stream.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose you can't be wetter than you are," he said.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, that's true," Roderick answered, with much composure.</p> + +<p>Now this first ford, though a ticklish thing in the pitch darkness, they +managed successfully enough; but the next one proved a terrible +business. Roderick went by the pony's head, with his hand on the bridle; +but whether he helped Maggie, or whether Maggie helped him, it would be +hard to say. Lionel could only guess what a mighty floundering there was +going on; but Roderick kept encouraging his four-footed companion to +hold up; and more than once, when they attained a safe footing, he +called a halt to let the faithful Maggie recover her breath.</p> + +<p>"Take your feet out o' the stirrups, sir," he said, when they were about +half-way across; "there's some nasty sharp ledges the other side, and if +she loses her footing you'll chist slip off before she goes over; and it +will not tek ye above the waist whatever, so that you can get ashore by +yourself."</p> + +<p>When they did reach those ledges, Maggie seemed to understand the +awkwardness of the situation quite as well as he; she went forward only +an inch or two at a time; and if her hind-feet occasionally skated a +little, her fore-feet remained firm where she had planted them. As for +Lionel, he was, of course, quite helpless; he did not seek to interfere +in any way; he was merely ready to slip off the saddle if Maggie rolled +over. But presently a sudden red flash revealed to him that they were +near land (this was Alec striking a vesuvian to give them a friendly +lead); there was some further cautious sliding and stumbling forward; +then the uplifting of Maggie's neck and shoulders told him she had +gained solid ground and was going up the bank. Never was soft and sure +footfall more welcome.</p> + +<p>The arrival of this belated and bedrenched little party at the lodge +created no little surprise; for it had been concluded that, having been +led away by a long stalk, or perhaps following a wounded deer into +unexpected regions, and finding themselves overtaken by the dark, they +had struck across country for the Aivron-Bridge Inn, to pass the night +there. However, Sir Hugh bustled about to have his guest properly looked +after; and when<!-- Page 190 --><span class="pagenum">{190}</span> Lionel had got into dry clothes and swallowed some bit +of warmed-up dinner, he went into the drawing-room, where they were all +of them playing poker—all of them, that is to say, except Lord +Fareborough, who, in a big easy-chair by the fire, was nursing his +five-and-twenty ailments, and no doubt inwardly cursing those people for +the chatter they were keeping up. They stopped their game when Lionel +entered, to hear the news; and when he had told his heartrending tale, +Lady Adela's brother lazily called to her:</p> + +<p>"I say, Addie, there's a chance for you to try that terrier of yours. If +he's as intelligent as you say, send him out with the Billies to-morrow, +and see if he can find the stag for them."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," Lady Adela instantly responded. "Mr. Moore, I have +just become possessed of the wisest little terrier in the whole world, I +do believe. He only arrived this evening; but he and I have been friends +for a long time; I bought him only yesterday from a shepherd down the +strath. Oh, I must show you the letter that came with the dog. Georgie, +dear, would you mind running into my room and bringing me a letter you +will find on the dressing-table?"</p> + +<p>Miss Georgie was absent only a couple of seconds; when she returned she +handed Lionel the following epistle, which was written on a rather +shabby sheet of paper. Its contents, however, were of independent value:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="right">"<span class="sc">Altnashielach</span>. <i>Tuesday moarning.</i></p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Lady Addela Cunningham</span>,—</p> + +<p> "<span class="sc">Honnerd Lady</span>,—I am sendin you the terrier by my sin Jeames that + was takking the milk from Bragla to your ladyship's house the last + year when he was butten by the red dog and your ladyship so kind as + to giv him five shullins the terrier's name is Donacha bit he will + soon answer to his English name that is Duncan Honnerd Lady you + must be kind to him for he will be a little shy the first time he + is awa from home and because he will not understand your languish + as he was taught Gealic he got plenty of Blood on the foxes he can + warry wan with himself alone let me no how you will be please with + him and if he is behaved and obadient I will be glad to have the + news</p> + +<p class="maxind">"from your ladyship's humble servant</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="sc">Magnus Ross</span>, <i>Altnashielach</i>"</p> + +</div> + +<p>"A wee terrier that can worry a fox all by himself must be a gallant +little beast, mustn't he?" said Lady Adela, who seemed quite proud of +her new acquisition. "And I know he will find that stag for you, Mr. +Moore, if he is to be found; for Donacha, or Duncan, is the wisest +little creature you ever saw, I wish I<!-- Page 191 --><span class="pagenum">{191}</span> could talk Gaelic, just to make +him feel at home the first few days." Then she turned to her companions. +"Who began this round—Mr. Lestrange? Very well, when it comes to Sybil, +I propose we let you gentlemen go off to your cigars in the gun-room; +for poor Mr. Moore, I know, hasn't been allowed to smoke all day; and I +am sure he must be far too tired to think of playing poker. How many do +you want, Rose?"</p> + +<p>When this round of poker was finished, the gentlemen did not seem to +resent being dismissed to the so-called gun-room, where, round the great +blazing peat fire, and with cigars and pipes and whiskey-and-soda to +console them in their banishment, Lionel was called upon to give them +more minute details regarding his day's adventures. And very various +were the opinions expressed as to the chances of that stag being found. +Some ominous stories were told of the extraordinary distances deer were +known to have run even when mortally wounded; and there were +possibilities suggested of his having fallen into a rapid watercourse +and been carried down to the rushing river; while Sir Hugh ventured to +hint that, if he were not found on the morrow, the probability was that +some shepherd, in his remote and lonely shieling just outside the +forest, would be feasting on venison for a considerable time to come. +Lionel cared less now; heat and food had thawed him into a passive frame +of mind; he was tired, worn out, and sleepy; and very glad was he when +he was allowed to go to bed.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, that magic one-horned stag was not found on the +next day; no, nor any following day; nor has it ever been heard of since +in those parts. And if it vanished from the earth through some evil +enchantment, be sure that Lionel—who had picked up some of the +superstitions of the neighborhood, and who had profited on a former +occasion by the possession of a lucky sixpence—be sure he attributed +his cruel ill-fortune, solely and wholly, to that wretched red rag that +had been given him by Miss Georgie Lestrange.<!-- Page 192 --><span class="pagenum">{192}</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h4>A GLOBE OF GOLD-FISH.</h4> + + +<p>What, then, was the secret charm and fascination exercised over him by +this extremely independent, not to say unapproachable, fisher-maiden; +why should he be so anxious to win her approval; why should he desire to +be continually with her—even when all her attention was given to her +salmon-line, and she apparently taking no notice of him whatever? She +was handsome, no doubt, and fine-featured and pleasant to look upon; she +was good-humored, and friendly in her own way; and she had the education +and manners and tact and gentleness of one of her birth and breeding; +but there were lots of other women similarly graced and gifted who were +only too eager to welcome him and pet him and make much of him, and +towards whom he found himself absolutely indifferent. Was he falling in +love? Had he been asked the question, he would honestly have answered +that he was about the last person in the world to form a romantic +attachment. There was no kind of sentimental wistfulness in his nature; +his imagination had no poetical trick of investing the face and form of +any passably good-looking girl with a halo of rainbow-hues; even as a +lad his dreams had concerned themselves more with the possibility of his +becoming a great musician than with his sharing his fame and glory with +a radiant bride. But, above all, the rhodomontade of simulated passion +that he heard in the theatre, and the extravagance of action necessary +for stage effect, would of themselves have tended to render him +sceptical and callous. He saw too much of how it was done. Did ever any +man in his senses swear by the eternal stars in talking to a woman; and +did ever any man in his senses kneel at a woman's feet? In former times +they may have done so, when fustian and attitudinizing were not fustian +and attitudinizing, but common habit and practice; but in our own day +did the love-making of the stage, with all its frantic gestures<!-- Page 193 --><span class="pagenum">{193}</span> and +wild appeals, represent anything belonging to actual life? Of course, if +the question had been pushed home, he would have had to admit that love +as a violent passion does veritably exist, or otherwise there would not +be so many young men blowing out their brains, and young women drowning +themselves, out of disappointment; but probably he would have pointed +out that in these cases the coroner's jury invariably and charitably +certify that the victim is insane.</p> + +<p>No; romance had never been much in his way, except the sham romance +which he had assumed along with a painted face and a stage costume, and +of which he knew the just and accurate value. He had never had time to +fall seriously in love, he used to say to Maurice Mangan. And now, in +this long spell of idleness in the North, amid these gracious +surroundings, if he had had to confess that he found a singular +fascination in the society of Honnor Cunyngham, why, he would have +discovered a dozen reasons and excuses rather than admit that poetical +sentiment had anything to do with it. For one thing, she was different +from any woman he had ever met before; and that of itself piqued his +curiosity. You had to speak the downright truth to her—when she looked +at you with those clear hazel eyes; little make-believes of flattery +were of no use at all. Her very tranquillity and isolation were a sort +of challenge; her almost masculine independence was like to drive a man +to say, "I am as peremptory as she proud-minded." Nevertheless, she was +no curst Katherine; her temper was of the serenest; she was almost too +bland and placid, Lionel thought—it showed she cared too little about +you to be either exacting and petulant, or, on the other hand, +solicitous to please.</p> + +<p>There came into these silent and reverie-haunted solitudes a letter from +the distant and turbulent world without; and of a sudden Lionel felt +himself transported back into the theatre again, in the midst of all its +struggles and hopes and anxieties, its jealousies and triumphs, its +ceaseless clamor and unrest. The letter was from Nina.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="sc">My dear Friend Leo</span>,—I have waited now some time that I send you + the critiques of my new part, but the great morning newspapers have + taken no notice of poor Nina, it is only some of the weekly papers + that have observed the change in the part, and you will see that + they are very kind to me. Ah, but one—I do not send it—I could + not send it to you, Leo—it has made me cry much and much that any + one should have such malignity, such meanness,<!-- Page 194 --><span class="pagenum">{194}</span> such lying. I + forget all the other ones? that one stabs my heart? but Mr. Carey + he laughs and says to me You are foolish? you do not know why that + is said of you? He is a great ally of Miss Burgoyne, he does not + like to see you take her place and be well received by the public. + Perhaps it is true; but, Leo, you do not like to be told that you + make the part stupid, that there is no life in it, that you are a + <i>machine</i>, that you sing out of tune. I have asked Mr. Lehmann, I + have asked Mr. Carey, and said to them If it is true, let me go? I + will not make ridicule of your theatre. But they are so kind to me; + and Mrs. Grey also; she says that I have not as much <i>cheek</i> as + Miss Burgoyne, but that Grace Mainwaring should remember that she + is a gentlewoman, and it is not necessary to make her a laughing + waitress, although she is in comedy-opera. I cannot please every + one, Leo; but if you were here I should not care so much for the + <i>briccone</i> who <i>lies</i>, who <i>lies</i>, who hides in the dark, like a + thief. You know whether I sing out of tune, Leo. You know whether I + am so stupid, so very stupid. Yes, I may not have <i>cheek</i>; I wish + not to have <i>cheek</i>; even to commend myself to a critic. Ah, well, + it is no use to be angry; every night I have a reception that you + would like to hear, Leo, for <i>you</i> have no jealousy; and my heart + says <i>those</i> people are not under bad influence; they are honest in + saying they are pleased; to <i>them</i> I sing not out of tune, and am + not so very stupid. If I lie awake at night, and cry much, it is + then I say to myself that I am stupid; and the next morning I + laugh, when Mrs. Grey says some kind thing to me.</p> + +<p> "Will you be surprised, most excellent Signor, if you have a visit + from Miss Burgoyne? Yes, it is possible. The doctor says she has + strained her voice by too long work—but it was a little <i>reedy</i> of + its own nature, do you not think, Leo?—and says she must have + entire rest, and that she must go to the Isle of White; but she + said every one was going to Scotland, and why not she, and her two + friends, her travelling companions. Then she comes to me and ask + your address. I answer—Why to me? There is Mr. Lehmann; and at the + stage-door they will know his address, for letters to go. So, you + see, you will not be alone in the high-lands, when you have such a + <i>charming visitor</i> with you, and she will talk to you, not from + behind a fan, as on the stage, but all the day, and you will have + great comfort and satisfaction. Yes, I see her arrive at the + castle. She rings at the gate; your noble friends come out, and ask + who she is; they discover, and drive away such a person as a poor + cantatrice. But you hear, you come flying out, you rescue her from + scorn—ah, it is pitiable, they all weep, they say to you that you + are honorable and just, that they did wrong to despise your + charming friend. Perhaps they ask her to dine; and she sings to + them after; and Leo says to himself, Poor thing; no; her voice is + not so reedy. The <i>dénouement</i>?—but I am not come to it yet; I + have not arranged what will arrive then.</p> + +<p> "What is the time of your return, Leo? And you know what will be + then? You will find on the stage another Grace Mainwaring, who will + sing always out of tune, and be so stupid that you will have fury + and will complain to the Manager. Ah, there is now no one to speak + with you from behind a fan—only a dull heavy stupid. Misera me! + What shall I do? All the poetry departed from Harry Thornhill's + singing—there is no more fascination<!-- Page 195 --><span class="pagenum">{195}</span> for him—he looks up to the + window—he sings 'The starry night brings me no rest'—and he says + 'Bother to that stupid Italian girl!—why am I to sing to her?' + Poor Leo, he will be disconsolate; but not for long. No; Miss + Burgoyne will be coming back; and then he will have some one for to + talk with from behind the fan.</p> + +<p> "Now, Leo, if you can read any more, I must attend to what you call + <i>beesness</i>. When Miss Burgoyne returns, I do not go back to be + under-study to Miss Girond—no—Mr. Lehmann has said he is pleased + with me, and I am to take the part of Miss Considine, who goes into + the provincial company. You know it is almost the same consequence + as Grace Mainwaring towards the public, and I am, oh, very proud of + such an advancement; and I have written to Pandiani, and to Carmela + and Andrea, and Mrs. Grey is kinder than ever, and I take lessons + always and always, when she has a half-hour from the + house-governing. I am <i>letter perfect</i>—is it what they say?—in + this part as in the other; my bad English does not appear on the + stage; I practise and practise always. I am to share in Miss + Girond's room, and that will be good, for she is friendly to me, + though sometimes a little saucy in her amusement. Already I hear + that the theatre-attendant people are coming back—and you—when is + your return? You had benevolence to the poor chorus-singer, Signor + Leo; and now she is prima-donna do you think she will forget you? + No, no! To-day I was going up Regent Street, and in a window + behold! a portrait of Mr. Lionel Moore and a portrait of Miss + Antonia Ross side by side! I laughed—I said, Leo did not look to + this a short time ago. It is the same fotografer; I have had + several requests; but only to that one I went, for it is the best + one of you he has taken that is seen anywhere. Of course I have to + dress as like Miss Burgoyne as possible, which is a pity to me, for + it is not too graceful, as I think I could do; but I complain + nothing, since Mr. Lehmann gave me the great advancement; and if + you will look at the critiques you will see they say I have not a + bad appearance in the part. As for the <i>briccone</i>—pah!—when I + talk like this to you, Leo, I despise him—he is nothing to me—I + would not pay twopence that he should praise me.</p> + +<p> "Will you write to me, Leo, and say when you return? Have you so + much <i>beesness</i> that you have only sent me one letter? Adieu!</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><span class="sc">Nina</span>."</span><p class="maxind">"Your true friend,</p> + +</div> + +<p>Well, this prattling letter from Nina caused him some reflection and +some uneasy qualms. He did not so much mind the prospect of having, on +his return, to transform his old friend and comrade into his +stage-sweetheart, and to make passionate love to her every evening +before an audience. That might be a little embarrassing at first; but +the feeling would soon wear off; such circumstances were common and well +understood in the theatre, where stage-lovers cease their cooing the +moment they withdraw into the wings. But this other possibility of +finding Miss Burgoyne and her friends in the immediate neighborhood of +Strathaivron Lodge? Of course there was no reason<!-- Page 196 --><span class="pagenum">{196}</span> why she shouldn't +travel through Ross-shire just as well as any one else. She knew his +address. If she came anywhere round this way—say to Kilfearn—he must +needs go to call on her. Then both Lady Adela Cunyngham and Lord +Rockminster had been introduced to Miss Burgoyne in the New Theatre; if +he told them, as he ought, on whom he was going to call, might they not +want to accompany him and renew the acquaintance? Lady Adela and her +sisters considered themselves the naturally appointed patrons of all +professional folk whose names figured in the papers; was it not highly +probable that Miss Burgoyne and her friends, whosoever these might be, +would receive an invitation to Strathaivron Lodge? And then?—why, then +might there not be rather too close a resemblance to a band of poor +players being entertained by the great people at what Nina imagined to +be a castle? A solitary guest was all very well; had Miss Burgoyne +preceded or succeeded him, he could not have objected; but a group of +strolling players, as it were?—might it not look as if they had been +summoned to amuse the noble company? And fancy Miss Burgoyne coming in +as a spy upon his mute, and at present quite indefinite, relations with +Miss Honnor Cunyngham!—Miss Burgoyne, who was a remarkably sharp-eyed +young woman, and had a clever and merry tongue withal, when she was +disposed to be humorous.</p> + +<p>Then he bethought him of what Honnor Cunyngham, with her firm +independence of character, her proud self-reliance, would have said to +all these timorous fancies. He knew perfectly well what she would say. +She would say, "Well, but even if Miss Burgoyne were to appear at +Strathaivron Lodge, how could that affect you? You are yourself; you are +apart from her; her visit will be Lady Adela's doing, not yours. And if +people choose to regard you as one of a band of strolling players, how +can that harm you? Why should you care? The opinion that is of value to +you is your own opinion; be right with yourself; and leave others to +think what they please. Whoever could so entirely misjudge your position +must be a fool; why should you pause for a moment to consider the +opinion of a fool or any number of fools? 'To thine own self be true;' +and let that suffice."</p> + +<p>For he had come to know pretty accurately, during these frequent if +intermittent talks and chats along the Aivron banks,<!-- Page 197 --><span class="pagenum">{197}</span> how Miss Honnor +would regard most things. The wild weather had been succeeded by a +period of calm; the river had dwindled and dwindled, until it seemed +merely to creep along its channel; where a rushing brown current had +come down there now appeared long banks of stones, lilac and silver-gray +and purple, basking in the sun; while half-way across the stream in many +places the yellow sand and shingle shone through the lazily rippling +shallows. Consequently there was little fishing to be done. Honnor +Cunyngham went out all the same, for she loved the river-side in all +weathers; and as often as he discreetly might, Lionel accompanied her; +but as they had frequently to wait for half-hours together until a cloud +should come over, he had ample opportunity of learning her views and +opinions on a great variety of subjects. For she spoke freely and +frankly and simply in this enforced idleness; and, from just a little +touch here and there, Lionel began to think that she must have a good +deal more of womanly tenderness and sympathy than he had given her +credit for. Certainly she was always most considerate towards himself; +she seemed to understand that he was a little sensitive on the score of +his out-of-door performances; and while she made light of his occasional +blunders, she would quietly hint to him that he in turn ought to +exercise a generous judgment when those people at the Lodge ventured to +enter a province in which he was a past master.</p> + +<p>"We are all amateurs in something or another, Mr. Moore," she would say. +"And the professionals should not treat us with scorn."</p> + +<p>"I wonder in what you show yourself an amateur," said he, bethinking +himself how she seemed to keep aloof from the music, art, and literature +of her accomplished sisters-in-law. "Everything you do you do thoroughly +well."</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"You have never seen me try to do anything but cast a line," said she, +"and if I can manage that, the credit rests with old Robert."</p> + +<p>But the consideration that she invariably extended to her brother's +guest was about to show itself in a very marked manner; and the incident +arose in this wise. One morning, the weather being much too bright and +clear for the shallower pools of the Aivron, they thought they would +take luncheon with<!-- Page 198 --><span class="pagenum">{198}</span> them, and stroll up to the Geinig, where, in the +afternoon, the deeper pools might give them a chance, especially if a +few clouds were to come over. Accordingly the three of them went away +along the valley, passed over the Bad Step, meandered through the long +birch wood, and finally arrived at the little dell above the Geinig +Pool, which was Miss Honnor's favorite retreat. They had left somewhat +late; the sun was shining from a cloudless sky; luncheon would pass the +useless time; so Robert got the small parcels and the drinking-cups out +of the bag, and arranged them on the warm turf. It was a modest little +banquet, but in the happiest circumstances; for the birch branches above +them afforded them a picturesque shelter; and the burn at their feet, +attenuated as it was, and merely threading its way down through the +stones, flashed diamonds here and there in the light. And then she was +so kind as to thank him again for singing "The Bonnie Earl o' +Moray"—which had considerably astounded the people assembled at the +opening of the Kilfearn Public Hall, or, at least, such of them as did +not know that a great singer was among the guests at Strathaivron Lodge.</p> + +<p>"I was rather sorry for them who had to follow you," she said; "they +must have felt it was hardly fair. It was like Donald Dinnie at the +Highland Games: when he has thrown the hammer or tossed the caber, the +spectator hardly takes notice of the next competitor. By the way, I +suppose you will be going to the Northern meeting at the end of this +month?"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I cannot stay so long, though Lady Adela was good enough to +ask me," he made answer. "I must go south very soon now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed?" she said. "That is a pity. It is worth while being in +Inverness then; you see all the different families and their guests; and +the balls are picturesque—with the kilt and tartan. It is really the +wind-up of the season; the parties break up after that. We come back +here and remain until about the middle of October; then we go on to the +Braes—worse luck for me. I like the rough-and-tumble of this place; the +absence of ceremony; the freedom and the solitude. It will be very +different at the Braes."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't you stop on here, then?" he naturally asked.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf198" id="illusf198"></a> +<img src="images/illusf198.jpg" alt=""Robert got the small parcels and the drinking-cups out +of the bag, and arranged them on the warm turf."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>Robert got the small parcels and the drinking-cups out +of the bag, and arranged them on the warm turf.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"All by myself?" she said. "Well, I shouldn't mind the loneliness—you +see, old Robert is left here, and Roderick, too, <!-- Page 199 --><span class="pagenum">{199}</span>and one or two of +the girls to keep fires on; but I should have nothing to do but read; +the fishing is useless long before that time. And so you are going away +quite soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, and he paused for a second—for there was some wild wish +in his heart that she would have just one word of regret. "I must go," +he continued, seeing that she did not speak. "I am wanted. And I have +had a long holiday—a long and delightful holiday; and I'm sure, when I +look back over it, I can't thank you sufficiently for all your kindness +to me."</p> + +<p>"Thank me, Mr. Moore?" she said, with obvious surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed," he said, warmly. "If it was only a word now and +again, it was always encouragement. I should never have ventured out +after the deer if it had not been for you; probably I should never have +taken up a gun at all. Then all those delightful days by the river; +haven't I to thank you for them? It seems rather hard that I should be +so much indebted to you—"</p> + +<p>"I am sure you are not at all," she said.</p> + +<p>"—without a chance of ever being able to show my gratitude; repayment, +of course, is out of the question, for we could never meet again in +similar circumstances—in reversed circumstances, rather—I mean, you +have had it all your own way in your—your toleration, shall I say?—or +your commiseration, of a hopeless duffer. Oh, I know what I'm talking +about. Most people in your position would have said, 'Well, let him go +and make a fool of himself!' and most people in my position would have +said, 'No, I'm not going to make a fool of myself.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," she said, simply, "why you should care so +much for the opinion of other people."</p> + +<p>"I suppose there is no chance of my ever seeing you in London, Miss +Honnor," he continued, rather breathlessly. "If—if I might presume on +the acquaintanceship formed up here, I should like—well, I should like +to show you I had not forgotten your kindness. Do you ever come to +London?—I think Miss Lestrange said you sometimes did."</p> + +<p>"Why, I am in London a great part of every year!" she said. "And this +winter I shall be next door to it; for my mother goes to Brighton in +November; and she will want me to be with her."</p> + +<p>"To Brighton!" he said, quickly and eagerly. "Then, of<!-- Page 200 --><span class="pagenum">{200}</span> course, you +would be in London sometimes. Would you—would you care to come behind +the scenes of a theatre?—or be present at a dress rehearsal, or +something of that kind? No, I'm afraid not—I'm afraid that wouldn't +interest you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it would," she said, pleasantly enough. "It would interest me +very much."</p> + +<p>And perhaps he would have gone on to assure her how delighted he would +be to have the opportunity of showing her, in the great capital, that he +had not forgotten her kindness and help in these Northern wilds, but +that Miss Honnor, seeing that their frugal meal was over, called for +Robert. The handsome old fisherman appeared at once; but she instantly +perceived by his face that something was wrong.</p> + +<p>"This is ferry strange, Miss Honnor," said he, "that the fly-book is not +in the bag. And I could not have dropped it out. I was not thinking of +looking for it when we started, for I knew I had put it there—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know, Robert," she said at once. "Mr. Lestrange asked me this +morning for some small Durham Rangers; and I told him to go and take +them out of the book. So he has taken the book out of the bag and +stupidly forgot to put it back."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go aweh down to the Lodge and get it," Robert suggested.</p> + +<p>"Is it worth while?" she said. "There is a fly on the casting-line; and +there won't be much fishing this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure," old Robert made answer. "There might be some clouds; +and it is safer to hef the book whatever."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said she. "And in that case I will take Mr. Moore over to +the other side of the Geinig Pool, and ask him to creep out on the +middle rock, and perhaps he will see something. Will there be any +gold-fish in the globe, Robert?"</p> + +<p>Old Robert grinned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Miss Honnor, the fish will be there, but there is little +chance of your getting one out."</p> + +<p>"At any rate, Mr. Moore will be pleased to see a globe of gold-fish in +the middle of a Highland moor," she said; and, when Robert had picked up +the luncheon things, they all set off down the Geinig valley together.</p> + +<p>But when they reached a certain wooden foot-bridge across the stream, +Robert held on his way, making for the Lodge, while<!-- Page 201 --><span class="pagenum">{201}</span> Lionel, well +content and asking no questions, followed the young lady. She led the +way across the bridge and along the opposite bank until they reached the +Geinig Pool, where they scrambled down to the side of the river just +above the falls. Here she showed him how to step from one boulder to +another, until he found himself on a huge gray rock right in the middle; +and forthwith she directed him to crawl out to the edge of the rock, and +just put his head over, and see what he could see. As for crawling, he +considered himself quite an adept at that now; in an instant he was down +on hands and knees, making his way out to the end of the rock. And +certainly what he beheld when he cautiously peered over the edge was +worth all the trouble. Here, in an almost circular pool, apparently of +great depth, the surface of the water was as smooth as glass; for the +bulk of the stream tumbled in and tumbled out again along the southern +side, leaving this dark hole in an eddy; and the sunlight, striking down +into the translucent depths, revealed to him certain slowly moving forms +which he recognized at once as salmon. They were not like salmon in +color, to be sure; through the dun water their purplish-blue backs +showed a dull olive-green; but salmon they undoubtedly were, and of a +good size, too. Of course he was immensely excited by such a novel +sight. With intensest curiosity he watched them making their slow +circles of the pool, exactly like gold-fish in a globe. They seemed to +be about four or five feet under the surface. Was it not possible to +snatch at one of them with a long gaff? Or was it not possible, on the +other hand, to tempt one of them with a fly!</p> + +<p>He slowly withdrew his head.</p> + +<p>"That is most extraordinary," he called to his companion, who was +standing a few yards farther back. "Miss Honnor, won't you put a fly +over them?"</p> + +<p>"What is the use," said she. "They will look at it, but they won't take +it; and I don't think it is well they should know too much about the +patterns that Mr. Watson dresses. They know quite enough already. Some +of the old hands, I do believe, are familiar with every fly made in +Inverness."</p> + +<p>"Won't you try?" he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you would like to see them look at a fly, I'll put it over +them," she said, good-naturedly, "but, you know, it is most +demoralizing."<!-- Page 202 --><span class="pagenum">{202}</span></p> + +<p>So she, also, had to creep out to the edge of the rock; and then she +cautiously put out the rod and the short line she had previously +prepared. She threw the fly to the opposite side of the pool, let it +sink an inch or two, and then quietly jerked it across until it came in +the way of the slow-circling salmon. To her it was merely an amusement, +but to Lionel it was a breathless excitement, to watch one after another +of those big fish, in passing, come up to look at this beautiful, +gleaming, shrimp-like object and then sink down again and go on its +round. They would not come within two feet of this tempting lure. She +tried them in all parts of the pool, sinking the fly well into the +plunging fall, and letting it be carried right to the other side before +she dragged it across the clear open.</p> + +<p>"Won't one of you take it?" she said. "It's as pretty a fly as ever was +dressed, though they do call it the Dirty Yellow."</p> + +<p>But all of a sudden the circumstances were changed in a most startling +manner. A swift, half-seen creature came darting up from out of the +plunging torrent, shot into the clear water, snatched at the small +object that was floating there, and down went fly and rod until the top +was almost touching the surface. The reel had caught in her dress, +somehow. But in another second all that was altered—she had got the +reel free—she was up on her feet—the line was singing out—the rod +raised, with the pliant top yielding to every movement of the fish—and +Lionel, quite bewildered by the rapidity of the whole occurrence, +wondering what he could do to assist her. Miss Honnor, however, was +quite competent to look after herself.</p> + +<p>"Who could have expected that?" she said, as the salmon went away down +into the deep pool, and deliberately sulked there. "I wasn't fishing, I +was only playing; and he very nearly broke me at the first plunge. +Really, it all happened so quickly that I could not see what size he +was; could you, Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>"Not I!" he answered. "The creature came out of the rough water like a +flash of lightning—I only saw the splash his tail made as he went down +again. But what are you going to do, Miss Honnor? Shall I run down the +strath and tell old Robert to hurry back?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all!—we'll manage him by ourselves," she replied, confidently. +"Here, you take him, and I'll gaff him for you."</p> + +<p>"I will do nothing of the kind," said he, distinctly. "You<!-- Page 203 --><span class="pagenum">{203}</span> have given +me too many of your fish. You have been far too generous all the way +through. No? I will gaff him for you—but you must tell me how—for I +never tried before."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is simple enough," she said. "You've seen old Robert gaff plenty +of fish. Only mind you don't strike across the casting-line. Get behind +the casting-line—about half-way down the fish—get well over him—and +then a sharp, bold stroke will fetch him out."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, armed with the gaff, Lionel made his way down to the lowest +ridge of the rock, so that he found himself just over the black-brown +pool. And, indeed, his services were called upon much sooner than he had +expected; for the salmon, grown tired of sulking, now began to swim +slowly round and round, sometimes coming up so that they could just +catch a glimmer of him, and again disappearing. But the fortunate thing +for them was that there were no shallows to frighten the fish; he knew +nothing of his danger as he happened to come sailing round Lionel's way; +and he was gradually coming nearer and nearer to the surface, until they +could watch his every motion as he made his slow rounds. Once or twice +Lionel tried to get the gaff over him, and had to withdraw it; but at +last Miss Honnor called out,</p> + +<p>"This next time, Mr. Moore, as he comes round to you, I will lift him a +bit; be ready!"</p> + +<p>But what was this amazing thing that happened all in one wild second? +Lionel struck at the fish, pinned him securely, dragged him out of the +water, and then, to his horror, found that the unexpected weight of this +fighting and struggling creature was proving too much for him—he was +overbalanced—he could not recover himself—down they all went +together—himself, the gaff, and the salmon—into the still, deep pool! +As for him, that was nothing; he could swim a little; a few strokes took +him to the other side, where he clambered on to the rocks; he managed to +recover his cap; and then, with the deepest mortification in his soul, +he made his way back to rejoin his companion. What apology could he +offer for his unheard-of bungling and stupidity? Would she not look on +him as an unendurable ass? Why had he chosen so insecure a foothold and +made such a furious plunge at the fish? Over-eagerness, no doubt—</p> + +<p>And then the next moment he noticed that her rod was still curved!<!-- Page 204 --><span class="pagenum">{204}</span></p> + +<p>"We'll get him yet, Mr. Moore!" she called to him, in the most +good-humored fashion. "Come out on to the rock, and you'll see the +strangest-looking salmon you ever saw in your life."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, that was an odd sight—the big fish slowly sailing round +and round the pool, with the gaff still attached and the handle floating +parallel with its side.</p> + +<p>"It will take some time, though," said she. "I think you'd better go +away home and get dry clothes on. I'll manage him by myself."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you would manage him better by yourself than with any help +of mine," he said, in his bitter chagrin and self-contempt. "I made sure +I had lost you the salmon."</p> + +<p>"And what then?" she said, with some surprise. "I assure you it wasn't +the salmon I was thinking of when I saw you in the water—but the moment +you struck out I knew you were safe."</p> + +<p>He did not speak any more; he was too humiliated and vexed. It is true +that when, at length, the salmon, entirely dead beat, suffered himself +to be led in to the side of the rock, Lionel managed to seize the handle +of the gaff, and this time, making sure of his foothold, got the fish on +land; but this final success in no way atoned for his having so +desperately made a fool of himself. In silence he affixed the bit of +string she gave him to the head and tail of this very pretty +twelve-pounder; and in silence they set out, he carrying the salmon and +she the rod over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"It will be a surprise for old Robert when we meet him," she said, +cheerfully. "But he will wonder how you came to be so drenched."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "it will be a pretty story of tomfoolery for them all to +hear. I should like to make a comic drawing of it, if I could. It would +have done capitally for John Leech, among the exploits of Mr. Briggs."</p> + +<p>She glanced at him curiously. She knew what he was thinking of—of the +tale that would be told among the keepers and the gillies of his having +soused himself into the Geinig Pool in trying to gaff a fish. And might +not the story find its way from the kennels into the gun-room, and +thence into the drawing-room?</p> + +<p>There was no doubt he was thoroughly ashamed and crestfallen, and angry +with himself; and though she talked and chatted<!-- Page 205 --><span class="pagenum">{205}</span> just as usual, he was +quite taciturn all the way down the side of the Geinig. They reached the +Junction Pool.</p> + +<p>"Come now, Mr. Moore," she said, with the utmost good-nature, "you make +too much of that little mistake. You are far too afraid of ridicule. But +I am going to put it all right for you."</p> + +<p>What was his astonishment and consternation to see her, after she had +laid her rod on the shingle, deliberately walk a yard or two into the +shallow water, and then throw herself down into it for a second, while +she held out her hand to him.</p> + +<p>"Pull me out, Mr. Moore!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, Miss Honnor!" he exclaimed—but instantly he caught her +hand, and she rose to her feet and began to shake the water from her as +best she might. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You've pulled me out of the river," said she, laughing, as she shook +her dripping sleeves and kicked her skirts; and then she went on, +coolly, to explain, "I know you are rather sensitive to ridicule, and +you don't like to think of those people telling the story against you as +to how you fell into the Geinig Pool. Very well; there needn't be any +such story. If any one asks you how you came to be so wet, you can say I +got into the water, and you pulled me out. It will sound quite heroic."</p> + +<p>"So I am to have the credit of having saved your life?" he said.</p> + +<p>"You needn't put it that way," she answered, as she took up the +fishing-rod and resumed her homeward walk. "All kinds of accidents are +continually happening to people who go salmon-fishing, and no one takes +any notice of them. My maid is quite used to getting my things +dried—whether they're soaked through with rain or with river-water +doesn't much matter to her. And old Robert can take your clothes to the +fire in the gun-room long before the gentlemen come back from the hill. +So, you see, there will probably be no questions asked; but, if there +should be, you have what is quite enough of an explanation."</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Honnor," said he, "I never heard of such a friendly act in +all my life—such a gratuitous sacrifice; here you have risked getting +your death of cold in order to save my childish vanity from being +wounded. Really, I don't know how to thank you—though I wish all the +same you had not put me under such a tremendous obligation. But don't +imagine that I am<!-- Page 206 --><span class="pagenum">{206}</span> going to claim—that I am going to steal—the credit +of having saved your life—I am not quite so mean—no, if I am asked, I +will tell the whole truth—"</p> + +<p>"And make two people ridiculous, instead of one?" she said, with a +smile. "No, you can't do that."</p> + +<p>However, as it turned out, this Quixotic act of consideration was +allowed to remain a dark secret between these two. With the brisk +walking and the warm, sunlit air around them, their clothes were already +drying; and when old Robert met them, in the dusky chasm at the foot of +the Bad Step, he was far too much engaged with the fish to notice their +limp and damp garments; while again, as they resumed their march, he, +carrying the fish, lagged in the rear, and thus they escaped his keen +eyes. Indeed, by the time they reached the Lodge, and as Miss Honnor was +about to enter, Lionel said to her that he felt quite warm and +comfortable, and proposed to go for a further walk down the strath +before dinner; but she peremptorily forbade this and ordered him off to +his own room to get a change of clothes.</p> + +<p>It is not to be imagined that an incident of this kind could do aught +but sink deep into the mind of any young man, and especially into the +mind of a young man who had particular reasons for wanting to know how +this young lady was affected towards him. She herself had made light of +the matter; it had been merely a sudden impulse, born of her own +abundant good-nature; probably she would have done as much for Percy +Lestrange. But <i>would</i> she have done as much for Percy Lestrange? Lionel +kept asking himself. He was vain enough to think she would not. Who had +been her <i>protégé</i> all this time? To whom had she given unobtrusive +little hints when she thought these might be useful? In whose exploits +and triumphs and failures had she shown an exceptional interest and +sympathy? Whom had she permitted to go fishing with her on those long +days when the world seemed to belong to the two of them? Whom had she +admitted into the little dell above the Geinig Pool which was her chosen +and solitary retreat? And he could not but reflect that while there were +plenty of women who were eager to present him with silver +cigarette-cases, blue and white flower-jars, and things of that kind, +there was not one of them, as he believed, who would dip her little +finger in a bottle of ink for his sake. More than that, which of them +would herself have<!-- Page 207 --><span class="pagenum">{207}</span> dared ridicule in order to save him from ridicule? +And in what light should he regard this suddenly prompted action on her +part, which seemed to him so bewildering at the time, but which she +appeared to look on as only a sort of half-humorous freak of friendship?</p> + +<p>These speculations only came back to the original question, or series of +questions, that had already puzzled him. Why should he set such store by +her opinion?—why be so anxious to please her?—why be so proud to think +that he had won some small share of favorable regard? It was not his +ordinary attitude towards women, who troubled him rather, and interfered +with his many interests and the calls of his professional duties. +Falling in love?—that could hardly be it; he felt no desire whatever to +go down on his knees before her and swear by the eternal stars. Besides, +she was so far away from him—living in such a different sphere—among +occupations and surroundings and traditions entirely apart from his. +Falling in love?—with the isolated, the unapproachable fisher-maiden, +the glance of whose calm hazel eyes would be death to any kind of +theatrical sentiment? It was all a confusion and a perplexity to him; +but at least he was glad to know that he would sit at the same table +with her that night at dinner, and, thereafter, perchance, have some +opportunity of talking to her in the drawing-room, where a certain +incident, known to themselves alone, would serve as a sort of secret +tie. And he was cheered to remember that, although he was leaving this +still and beautiful neighborhood (where so many strange dreams and +fancies and new and welcome experiences had befallen him), he was not +bidding good-bye to all of these friends forever. Miss Honnor Cunyngham +would be in Brighton in November; and Brighton was not so far away from +the great city and the dull, continuous, thunderous roar that would then +be all around him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h4>A NEW EXPERIENCE.</h4> + + +<p>Was it possible in the nature of things that Prince Fortunatus should +find his spirits dashed with gloom—he whose existence<!-- Page 208 --><span class="pagenum">{208}</span> had hitherto +been a long series of golden moments, each brighter and more welcome +than the other; Even if he had to leave this still and beautiful valley +where he had found so much gracious companionship and so many pleasant +pursuits, look what was before him; he was returning to be greeted with +the applause of enthusiastic audiences, to be sought after and courted +and petted in private circles, to find himself talked about in the +newspapers, and his portraits exhibited in every other shop-window—in +short, to enjoy all the little flatteries and attentions and triumphs +attaching to a wide and not ill-deserved popularity. And yet as he sat +at this farewell luncheon on the day of his departure, he was the only +silent one among these friends of his, who were all chattering around +him.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I envy you, Mr. Moore," said his charming hostess, "going away +back to the very centre of the intellectual world. It will be such a +change for you to find yourself in the very midst of everything—hearing +about all that is going on—the new books, the new plays, the new +pictures. I suppose that in October there are plenty of pleasant people +back in town; and perhaps the dinner-parties are all the more enjoyable +when you know that the number of nice people is limited. One really does +get tired of this mental stagnation."</p> + +<p>"I wish, Mr. Moore," said Lady Rosamund, rather spitefully (considering +that her brother was present), "you would take Rockminster with you. He +won't go on the hill, and he's no use in the drawing-room. I am certain +at this minute he would rather be walking down St. James Street to his +club."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at it!" cried Miss Georgie Lestrange, coming gallantly +to the apathetic young man's rescue. "Look how he's situated. There's +Sir Hugh and my brother away all day; Lord Fareborough has never come +out of his room since the morning he tried deer-stalking; and what can +Lord Rockminster find to arouse him in a pack of girls? Oh, I know what +he thinks of us," she continued, very placidly. "I remember, if he +chooses to forget. Don't you recollect, Rose, the night we were +constructing an ideal kingdom by drawing up a list of all the people we +should have banished? Every one had his or her turn at saying who should +be expelled—people who come late to dinner, people who fence with +spiked wire, people who talk in theatres, people who say 'like he does,' +and so forth; and when somebody<!-- Page 209 --><span class="pagenum">{209}</span> suggested 'all young women who wear red +veils,' Lord Rockminster immediately added, 'and all young women who +don't wear red veils.' Now you needn't deny it."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, I'm sure I never said anything of the kind; but it's not of +the least consequence," Lord Rockminster observed, with perfect +composure. "Anything to please you poor dears. You understand well +enough why I linger on here—just to give you young creatures a chance +of sharpening your wits on me. You wouldn't know what to do without me."</p> + +<p>"Rockminster is going to give the world a volume of poems," said Lady +Rosamund, who seemed to be rather ill-tempered and scornful this +morning. "Nobody could stare at the clouds and hills as he does without +being a poet. When he does burst into speech it will be something +awful."</p> + +<p>"Have you your flask filled?" said that much-bepestered young man, +calmly turning to Lionel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, thanks."</p> + +<p>"When you get to Invershin," his lordship continued, thoughtfully, "you +can telegraph to the Station Hotel at Inverness what you want for +dinner. No soup; I make it a rule never to take soup in a big hotel; a +friendly manager once warned me in confidence. You'll be glad to have a +bit of white fish after so much grilse and sea-trout."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll take my chance," Lionel said; it was not dinner that was +occupying his thoughts.</p> + +<p>There was a sound of horses' hoofs and carriage wheels; the wagonette +was being brought round to the front door.</p> + +<p>"I consider it very shabby of Honnor not to have stayed to say +good-bye," Lady Adela said to her departing guest. "She might have given +up one morning's fishing, I think, especially as you have been such an +assiduous attendant—carrying her things for her, and keeping her +company on those long excursions—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be afraid," said Miss Georgie, with a bit of a covert laugh. +"Honnor won't forsake her friend like that. I'll bet you she won't be +far from the Horse's Drink when Mr. Moore has to cross the stream."</p> + +<p>"If I were you," Lord Rockminster finally said, in a confidential +undertone, as they all rose from the table, "I would telegraph about +dinner."<!-- Page 210 --><span class="pagenum">{210}</span></p> + +<p>How Lionel hated the sight of this open door, and the wagonette, and the +portmanteau up beside the coachman!</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Mr. Moore," said the pleasant-mannered young matron to him, +as she took his hand for a moment. "I'm afraid it has been awfully dull +for you—"</p> + +<p>"Lady Adela!" he said.</p> + +<p>"But the next time you come we shall try to be less monotonously +bucolic. Perhaps by then the phonograph will be able to bring us a whole +musical evening from London, whenever we want it—a whole performance of +an operetta—"</p> + +<p>"Offenbach in a Highland valley!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, very quietly and graciously; "but perhaps something by +the composer of 'The Squire's Daughter'—and there might be in it an air +as delightful as that of 'The Starry Night.' Oh, Mr. Moore, don't let +them produce any other piece at the New Theatre until we all get back to +London again! Well, good-bye—it's so kind of you to have taken pity on +us in this wilderness—"</p> + +<p>"If you knew how sorry I am to go, Lady Adela!" he said. "And will you +say good-bye for me to Miss Cunyngham?"</p> + +<p>"You needn't bother to leave a message," said Miss Georgie, with +significant eyes. "You'll find she won't be far away from the Horse's +Drink."</p> + +<p>And as it chanced, Miss Georgie's forecast (whether inspired by a saucy +impertinence or not) proved correct. Lionel, having bade farewell to all +these friends, got into the wagonette; and away the carriage +went—quietly, at first, over the soft turf and stones—to the river. Of +course he looked out. Yes, there was Miss Honnor—fishing the Whirl +Pool—with old Robert sitting on the shingle watching her. Would she +notice?—or would he get down and walk along to her and claim the +good-bye she had forgotten? The next moment he was reassured. She caught +sight of the approaching wagonette; she carefully placed her rod on the +shingle, and then came walking along the river-bank, towards the ford, +at which the horses had now arrived.</p> + +<p>Even at a distance he could not but admire the grace and ease and +dignity of her carriage—the harmonious movement of a perfectly formed +figure; and as she drew nearer he kept asking himself (as if the +question were necessary) whether he would be able to take away a keen +mental photograph of those fine features—the<!-- Page 211 --><span class="pagenum">{211}</span> clear and placid +forehead, the strongly marked eyebrows, the calm, self-reliant eyes, the +proud and yet not unsympathetic lines of the mouth. She came nearer; a +smile lit up her face; and there was a kind of radiance there, he +thought. He had leaped down from the wagonette: he went forward to meet +her; her hand was outstretched.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you are going," she said, frankly.</p> + +<p>"And I am far more sorry to have to go," said he, and he held her hand a +little longer than there was any occasion for, until she gently withdrew +it. "There are so many things I should like to say to you, Miss Honnor; +but somehow they always escape you just when they're wanted; and I've +told you so often before that I am not likely to forget your kindness to +me up here—"</p> + +<p>"Surely it is the other way about!" she said, pleasantly. "You have come +and cheered up my lonely hours—and been so patient—never +grumbled—never looked away up the hill as if you would have given your +life to be after the grouse; and in the drawing-room of an evening +you've always sung when I asked you—when I was inconsiderate enough to +ask you—"</p> + +<p>"My goodness! Miss Honnor," he said, "if I had known you looked on it in +that light, I should have sung for you constantly, whether you asked or +not."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's all over now," said she, "and I hope you are taking away +with you a pleasant memory of Strathaivron."</p> + +<p>"I have spent the happiest days of my life here," he said; and then he +hesitated—was about to speak—hesitated again—and finally blurted out, +"Is there anything I can do for you in London, Miss Honnor?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," she said. "By the way, you'll have an hour or two in +Inverness. You might go in to Mr. Watson's and ask him to send me out a +few more flies—if you have plenty of time, that is."</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted," said he, as if she had conferred the greatest +favor on him.</p> + +<p>"Well, good-bye—I mustn't keep you late for the train."</p> + +<p>"But we shall meet in the South?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," she said, in a very amiable and friendly fashion; and she +stood waiting there until he had got into the wagonette, and until the +horses had splashed their way across the ford;<!-- Page 212 --><span class="pagenum">{212}</span> then she waved her hand +to him, and, with a parting smile, turned down the stream again, to +rejoin Robert and pick up her rod.</p> + +<p>Nor was this quite the last he was to see of those good friends. When +the horses had strenuously hauled the carriage up that steep hillside +and got into the level highway, he turned to look back at the Lodge, set +in the midst of the wide strath, and behold! there was a fluttering of +white handkerchiefs there, Lady Adela and her sisters and Miss Georgie +still lingering in the porch. Again and again he made response. Then, as +he drove on, he caught another glance of Miss Honnor, who, far below +him, was industriously fishing the Whirl Pool; when she heard the sound +of the wheels, she looked up and waved her hand to him as he went by. +Finally there came the crack of a gun across the wide strath; it was a +signal from the shooting-party—away on a distant hillside—and he could +just make out that they, also, were sending him a telegraphic good-bye. +At each opening through the birch-wood skirting the road he answered +these farewells, until Strathaivron Lodge was no longer in sight; and +then he settled himself in his seat and resigned himself to the long +journey.</p> + +<p>This was not a pleasant drive. He was depressed with a vague aching and +emptiness of the heart that he could not well account for. A schoolboy +returning to his tasks after a long holiday would not be quite so +profoundly miserable—so reckless, dissatisfied, and ill at ease. But +perhaps it was the loss of one of those pleasant companions that was +troubling him? Which one, then (he made pretence of asking himself), was +he sorriest to part from? Lady Adela, who was always so bright and +talkative and cheerful, so charming a hostess, so considerate and gentle +a friend? Or the mystic-eyed Lady Sybil, who many an evening had led him +away into the wonder-land of Chopin, for she was an accomplished +pianist, if her own compositions were but feeble echoes of the masters? +Or the more quick-spirited Lady Rosamund, the imperious and petulant +beauty, who, in a way most unwonted with her, had bestowed upon him +exceptional favor? Or that atrocious little flirt, Miss Georgie +Lestrange, with her saucy smiles and speeches, her malicious laugh, and +demure, significant eyes?—it was hardly to be wondered at if she made +an impression on any young man, for the<!-- Page 213 --><span class="pagenum">{213}</span> minx had an abundance of good +looks, despite her ruddy hair and pert nose. As for Miss Honnor +Cunyngham—oh, no!—she was too far away—she lived remote, isolated, +apart—she neither gave nor demanded sympathy or society—she was +sufficient unto herself alone. But why ask whether it were this one or +that? Soon he would be forgotten by them all. He would be swallowed up +in the great city—swept away in the current of its feverish +activities—his voice hardly heard above the general din; while they +would still be pursuing their various pastimes in this little world of +solitude and quiet, or moving on to entertain their friends with the +more pompous festivities of the Braes.</p> + +<p>It was odd that he should be carrying away with him the seeds of +homesickness for a place in which his stay had been counted by weeks. So +anxious, indeed, was he to assure himself that his relations with that +beautiful valley and its inmates were not entirely severed that, the +moment he reached Inverness, instead of going into the Station Hotel and +ordering his dinner like a reasonable being, he must needs go +straightway off to Mr. Watson's shop.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said he, with a little hesitation—for he did not know +whether to mention Miss Cunyngham's name or not—he was afraid he might +betray some quite uncalled-for embarrassment—"I suppose you know the +flies they use on the Aivron this time of year."</p> + +<p>Mr. Watson knew well enough; who better!</p> + +<p>"I mean on the Strathaivron Lodge stretch of the water?" Lionel +continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I am often sending flies to Miss Cunyngham," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Cunyngham?" said Lionel. "It is for her I want some flies."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir, I will make up a small packet, and send it to her? Miss +Cunyngham has an account with me—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, that isn't what I mean at all," Lionel interposed, hastily. "I +want to make Miss Cunyngham a little present. The fact is, I was using +her book," he observed, with some importance (as if it could in the +least concern a worthy tackle-maker in Inverness to know who had gone +fishing with Miss Cunyngham), "and I whipped off a good number, so I +want to make amends, don't you see?"<!-- Page 214 --><span class="pagenum">{214}</span></p> + +<p>"Very well, sir; how many will I put up?"</p> + +<p>"All you've got," was the prompt reply.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watson stared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Lionel said. "Miss Cunyngham may as well have a good stock at +once. You know the proper kinds—Blue Doctors, Childerses, Jock Scotts, +Dirty Yellows, Bishops, Bees—that's about it, isn't it?—and put in +plenty of various sizes. Then don't make a parcel of them; put them into +those japanned boxes with the cork in them—never mind how many; and if +you can't tell me at once how much it will all come to, I will leave you +my London address, and you'll send the bill to me. Now if you will be so +kind as to give me a sheet of paper and an envelope, I will write a note +to accompany the packet."</p> + +<p>Mr. Watson probably thought that this young man was daft, but it was not +his business to say so; he took down his erratic customer's address and +said that all his instructions would be attended to forthwith.</p> + +<p>Next Lionel went to a tobacconist's shop, and (for he was a most lavish +young man) he ordered a prodigious quantity of "twist," which he had +made up into two parcels, the smaller one for Roderick, the larger to be +divided equally among the other keepers and gillies. The two parcels he +had put into a wooden case, which, again, was filled up with boxes of +vesuvians, three or four dozen or so; and it is to be imagined that when +<i>that</i> small hamper was opened at Strathaivron there was many a chuckle +of gratification over the division of the splendid spoil.</p> + +<p>Finally—for human nature is but human nature after all; he had been +thinking of others so far, and he was now entitled to consider himself a +little—he thought he would go along to Mr. Macleay's. When he arrived +at the shop, he glanced in at the windows; but among the wild-cats, +ptarmigan, black game, mallards, and what not, there was nothing to +arrest his attention; it was a stag's head he had in his mind. He went +inside, and his first sensation was one of absolute bewilderment. This +crowded museum of birds, beasts, and fish—skarts, goosanders, +sand-grouse, terns, eagles, ospreys, squirrels, foxes, big-snouted +trout, harts, hinds, bucks, does, owls, kestrels, falcons, merlins, and +every variety of the common gull shot by the all-pervading +Cockney—staring, stuffed, silent, they were a confusion to the eyes, +and nowhere could he find his own, his particular, his precious<!-- Page 215 --><span class="pagenum">{215}</span> stag. +Alas! when Mr. Macleay was so kind as to take him behind into the +workshop—which resembled a huge shambles, almost—and when, from among +the vast number of heads and horns lying and hanging everywhere around, +the Strathaivron head was at last produced, Lionel was horribly shocked +and disappointed. Was this, then, his trophy that he hoped to have hung +up for the admiration of his friends and his own ecstatic +contemplation—this twisted, shapeless, sightless lump of hide and hair, +with a great jaw of discolored teeth gleaming from under its flabby +folds? It is true that here were the identical horns, for had he not +gone lovingly over every tine of them?—but was this rag of a thing all +that was left of the splendid stag he had beheld lying on the heather? +However, Mr. Macleay speedily reassured him. He was shown the various +processes and stages of the taxidermist's art, the amorphous mass of +skin and hair gradually taking shape and substance until it stood forth +in all its glory of flaming eye and proud nostril and branching antlers; +and he was highly pleased to be told that this head he had got in +Strathaivron was a fairly good one, as stags now go in the North. So, +all his shopping being done, he set off again for the Station Hotel, +where he got what he wanted in the shape of dinner, followed by a long +and meditative smoke in the billiard-room, with visions appearing among +the curls of blue vapor.</p> + +<p>What the Highland Railway manages to do with the trains which it +despatches from Inverness at 10 P.M. and reproduces the next morning at +Perth about 7, it is impossible for the mind of man to imagine; but it +is not of much consequence so long as you are snugly ensconced in a +sleeping-berth; and Lionel passed the night in profound oblivion. With +the new day, however, these unavailing and torturing regrets began +again; for now he felt himself more completely than before shut off from +the friends he had left; and Strathaivron and all its associations and +pursuits had grown distant like a dream. He was lucky enough, on this +southward journey, to get a compartment to himself; and here was an +excellent opportunity for him to have practised his <i>vocalises</i>; but it +was not of <i>vocalises</i>, nor of anything connected with the theatre, that +he was thinking. He was much franker with himself now. He no longer +tried to conceal from himself the cause of this vague unrest, this +useless<!-- Page 216 --><span class="pagenum">{216}</span> looking back and longing, this curious downhearted sense of +solitariness. A new experience, truly, and a bewildering one! Indeed, he +was ashamed of his own folly. For what was it that he wanted? A mere +continuance of that friendly alliance and companionship which he had +enjoyed all this time? Was he indulging a sort of sentimental misery +simply because he could not walk down to the Aivron's banks and talk to +Miss Honnor and watch the sun tracing threads of gold among her tightly +braided hair? If that were all, he might get out at the next station, +make his way back to the beloved strath, and be sure that Honnor +Cunyngham would welcome him just as of old, and allow him to carry her +waterproof or ask him to have a cast over the Junction Pool. He had no +reason to fear any break in this friendship that had been formed. When +he should see her in Brighton, she would be to him as she had been +yesterday, when they said good-bye by the side of the river. And were +not these the only possible relations between them; and ought he not to +be proud and content that he could look forward to an enduring +continuance of them?</p> + +<p>Yes; but some man would be coming along and marrying her; and where +would he be then? What would become of this alliance, this friendly +understanding—perhaps, even, some little interest on her part in his +affairs—what would become of all these relations, then? It was the way +of the world. Their paths would be divided—he would hear vaguely of +her—perhaps see her name in the papers as being at a drawing-room or +something of the kind. She would have forgotten all those long, still +days by the Aivron and the Geinig; no echo would remain in her memory of +"The Bonnie Earl o' Morau," as he had sung it for her, with all the +passionate pathos of which he was capable; she would be a +stranger—moving afar—one heard of only—a remembrance—and no more. So +the impalpable future was interwoven with those dreams and not too happy +forecasts, as the train thundered on its way, along the wooded banks of +the Allan Water and towards the winding Links of Forth.</p> + +<p>But there was an alternative that would recur again and again to his +fancy, though in rather a confused and breathless way. What if, in the +very despair of losing her altogether, at the very moment of parting +with her, he had made bold to claim this proud-spirited maiden all for +himself? Might not some such<!-- Page 217 --><span class="pagenum">{217}</span> sudden and audacious proposal have been +the very thing to appeal to her—the very thing to capture her? A +challenge—a demand that she should submit—that she should come down +from those serene heights of independence and yield herself a willing +and gracious helpmeet and companion for life to this daring suitor; +might not that have secured for him this wondrous prize? If she had any +regard for him at all, she might have been startled into confession. A +couple of words—there by the side of the Aivron—might have been +enough. No theatrical professions nor mock homage, no kneeling at her +feet or swearing by eternal stars; but a look into her eyes—a clasp of +the hand—a single question? Something he had indeed meant to say to +her, as they stood face to face there for the last time—something, he +hardly knew what; and yet his hesitation had been but natural; he might +have been hurried into saying too much; he dared not offend. Nay, even +as he held her hand, he was unaware of the true state of his feeling +towards her; it was this separation—this ever-increasing distance +between them—that had enabled him to understand.</p> + +<p>And then again his mood changed into one of bitter self-reproach and +self-contempt. What miserable folly was this crying for the moon—this +picturing of a marriage between the daughter of an ancient and wealthy +house—one, too, who was unmistakably proud of her lineage—and a singer +in comic opera! Not for nothing had he heard of the twin brothers +Cunyngham who fell on Flodden Field. It is true that at the present time +he and she mingled in the same society; for he was the pet and plaything +of the hour in the fashionable world; but he was not entirely blinded by +that favor; he did not wholly mistake his position. And even +supposing—a wild conjecture!—that she entertained an exceptional +regard for him—that she could be induced to think of marrying +him—would she be content that her husband remained on the stage and +painted his face every evening and postured before the footlights? On +the other hand, apart from the stage, what was he?—a mere nobody, not +too-well instructed, having no particular gifts of wit or conversation, +without even a well-filled purse—the meanest of qualifications—to +recommend him. No doubt they might make a very pretty bargain between +them; he might go to her and say,</p> + +<p>"Let there be a sacrifice on both sides. I give up the theatre—I<!-- Page 218 --><span class="pagenum">{218}</span> give +up the applause, the popularity, the opportunities of making pleasant +friendships—all the agreeable things of a stage-life; and you on your +part give up your pride of birth, and, it may be, something of your +place in society. It is a surrender on both sides. Let our motto be, +'All for love, and the world well lost.'" Yes, a very pretty bargain; +but as he considered that he was now wandering into the region of +romance—a region which he unhesitatingly scorned as having no relation +with the facts of the world—he withdrew from that futile and useless +and idle speculation, and took to thinking of Miss Honnor Cunyngham as +she actually was, and wondering over which of the Aivron pools the +proud-featured fisher-maiden would be casting at this moment.</p> + +<p>And here, again, as the hours crept by, was something of a more +practical nature to remind him of the now far-distant strath. In order +to save him from the hurry of a twenty-minutes' railway-station dinner, +Lady Adela had ordered a luncheon-basket to be packed for him, and her +skill and forethought in this direction were unequalled, as many a +little shooting-party had joyfully discovered. When Lionel leisurely +began to explore the contents of the basket, he was proud to think that +it was under her own immediate supervision that these things had been +put together for him. There was some kind of sentimental interest +attaching to the chicken and tongue and galantine, to the salad and +biscuits and cake and what not; and he knew that it was no servant who +had thought of filling a small tin canister with peaches and grapes, +even as he knew that only Lady Adela was aware of his preference for the +particular dry Sillery of which a half-bottle here lay in its covering +of straw. As he took out the things and placed them on the seat beside +him, he could have imagined that a pair of very gentle hands had +arranged that repast for him. Then from this much too sumptuous banquet +his mind wandered away back to the simple fare that old Robert used to +bring forth from the fishing-bag, when Miss Honnor had taken her place +among the bracken. Again he was with her in that little dell away among +the solitudes of the hills, with the murmur of the Geinig coming up to +them from the chasm below. The sunlight flashed on the rippling burn at +their feet; the leaves of the birches trembled, and no more than +trembled, in the still air; the deep, clear blue of<!-- Page 219 --><span class="pagenum">{219}</span> the sky overhead +told them to be in no hurry—they would have to wait till the afternoon +for clouds. In the perfect silence (for the humming of the bees in the +heather was hardly a sound at all) he could hear every soft modulation +of her voice—though, to be sure, it was not lovers' talk that passed +between them. "Mr. Moore, won't you have the rest of this soda-water?" +or, "Yes, one of those brown biscuits, thank you," or, "Please, Mr. +Moore, will you crush those bits of paper together and bury them in a +hole? Nothing is so horrid as to come upon traces of a pic-nic on a +hillside or along a river." Already those long days of constant +companionship seemed to be becoming remote. It was the black +night-journey between Inverness and Perth that had severed that shining +time from the dull and commonplace hours he had now entered +upon. He looked out of the window as the train thundered +along—Preston—Wigan—Warrington—everywhere squalor, hurry, and noise, +with a smoke-laden sky lowering over the sad and dismal country, +different, indeed, from that other world he knew of, with its crimson +slopes of heather, its laughing waters, its lonely solitudes in their +noonday hush, the fair azure of the heavens becoming paler and paler +towards the horizon until it touched the distant peaks and shoulders of +Assynt. "Muss aus dem Thal jetzt scheiden, wo alles Lust und Klang;" but +at least the memory of it would remain with him—a gracious possession.</p> + +<p>The long afternoon wore on; Crewe, Stafford, Lichfield, Tamworth went +by, as things in a dream, for his thoughts were far away. Sometimes, it +is true, he would rebel against this morbid, restless, useless regret +that had got hold of him; and he would valiantly attack the newspapers, +of which he had an ample supply; but somehow or another the gray columns +would fade away, and in their place would come a picture of Strathaivron +Lodge, and the valley, and the river, and of an upturned face smiling a +last farewell to him as the wagonette rolled on. Was it really only +yesterday that he had seen her—talked with her—taken her hand? A +yesterday that seemed years away! A vision already growing pale.</p> + +<p>Well, London came at last, and all the hurry and bustle of Euston +Station; and when he had got his things put on the top of a hansom, and +given his address to the driver, there was an end of dreams. No more +dreams were possible in this great<!-- Page 220 --><span class="pagenum">{220}</span> vortex of a city into which he was +now plunged—a turbulent, bewildering, vast black hole it seemed, and +yet all afire with its blaze of windows and lamps. In Strathaivron the +night was a gentle thing—it came stealing over the landscape as soft as +sleep; it brought silence with it and a weight to tired eyes; it bade +the woods be still; and to the lonely and darkened peaks of the hills it +unveiled its canopy of trembling stars. But here there was no +night—there was yellow fire, there were black phantoms unceasingly +hurrying hither and thither, and a dull and constant roar more +continuous than that of any sea. Tottenham Court Road after +Strathaivron! But here at least was actuality; the time for sentimental +sorrows, for dumb and hopeless regrets, was over and gone.</p> + +<p>And who was the first to greet him on his return to London—who but +Nina?—not in person, truly, but by a very graceful little message. The +moment he went into his sitting-room his eye fell on the tiny nosegay +lying on the table; and when he took the card from the accompanying +envelope, he knew whose handwriting he would find there. "<i>Welcome +home—from Nina!</i>"—that was all; but it was enough to make him rather +remorseful. Too much had he neglected his old comrade and ally; he had +scarcely ever written to her; she had been but little in his thoughts. +Poor Nina!—It was a shame he should treat so faithful a friend so ill; +he might have remembered her a little more had not his head been stuffed +with foolish fancies. Well, as soon as he had changed his clothes and +swallowed a bit of food he would jump into a hansom and go along to the +New Theatre; he would be too late to judge of Nina's Grace Mainwaring as +a whole, but he would have a little chat with her in the wings.</p> + +<p>He was later in getting there than he had expected; indeed, as he made +his way to the side of the stage, he discovered that his <i>locum tenens</i> +had just been recalled and was singing for the second time the +well-known serenade, "The Starry Night"—and very well he sang it, too, +confound him! Lionel said to himself. And here was Nina, standing on a +small platform at the top of a short ladder, and waiting until the +passionate appeal of her sweetheart (in the garden without) should be +finished. She did not know of the presence of the new-comer. Lionel +might have pulled her skirts, it is true, to apprise her of his being +there; but that would not have been decorous; besides, he<!-- Page 221 --><span class="pagenum">{221}</span> dared not +distract her attention from the business of the stage. As soon as the +last verse of the serenade had been sung, with its recurring refrain—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Appear, my sweet, and shame the skies,</div> +<div class="verse">That have no splendor</div> +<div class="verse">That have no splendor like thine eyes"—</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Nina—that is, Grace Mainwaring—carefully opened the casement at which +she was supposed to be standing. A flood of moonlight—lime-light, +rather—fell on her; but Lionel could not see how she looked the part, +because her back was towards him. Very timidly Grace Mainwaring glanced +this way and that, to make sure that no one could observe her; she took +a rose from her hair, kissed it, and dropped it to her enraptured lover +below. It was the end of the act. She had to come down quickly from the +platform for the recall that resounded through the theatre; she did not +chance to notice Lionel; she was led on and across the stage by Harry +Thornhill, she bowing repeatedly and gracefully, he reserving his +acknowledgment until he had handed her off. The reception both of them +got was most gratifying; there could be no doubt of the sincerity of the +applause of this crowded house.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me I am not wanted here any more," Lionel said to himself. +"Even Nina won't take any notice of the stranger."</p> + +<p>The next moment Nina, who was coming across the stage, caught sight of +him, and with a little cry of delight she ran towards him—yes, ran; for +what cared she about carpenters and scene-shifters?—and caught both his +hands in hers.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo!" she cried, with glad-shining eyes. "Oh, so brown you are!—a +hunter!—you are from the forests! And to-day you arrive—and already at +the theatre—did you hear the duet—no? Ah, it is good to see you again, +after so long!—I could laugh and cry together, it is such a joy to see +you—and see you looking so well—"</p> + +<p>"I say, Nina," he said, "that fellow Doyle sings tremendously well—he's +ever so much improved—they'll be wanting him to take my place +altogether and sending me off into the country."</p> + +<p>"You, Leo!" she said, with a merry laugh, and still she regarded him +with those delighted, welcoming eyes. "Ah, yes, it is likely! Ah, you +will see what reception they will give you on Monday. Yes, it is in all +the papers already—everywhere I<!-- Page 222 --><span class="pagenum">{222}</span> see it; but come—Miss Girond and I, +we have Miss Burgoyne's room for the present—you can wait for a few +minutes, then I come out to talk to you."</p> + +<p>Lionel (feeling very much like a stranger in this place) followed her +into Miss Burgoyne's room, where he found Mlle. Girond only too ready to +throw away the French novel she was reading. Nina had to disappear into +the dressing-room; but this small boy-officer in the gay uniform, with +his or her pretty gesticulation and charm of broken English, was quite +willing to entertain Mr. Moore, though at times she would forget all +about him and walk across to the full-length mirror and twist her small +moustache. She chatted to him now and again; she returned to the mirror +to touch her eyebrows and adjust her sash; she walked about or flicked +the dust from her shining Wellingtons with a silk handkerchief; again +she contemplated herself in the glass, and lightly sang,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"En débordant de Saint-Malo</div> +<div class="verse">Nos longs avirons battaient l'eau!"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then she was called away for the beginning of the last act; and Nina, +having made the change necessary for her next appearance, came out from +the dressing-room and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are wicked, Leo," she said, as she contentedly crossed her +hands in her lap and looked at the young man with those friendly eyes, +"that you stayed away so long. I wished to sing the duet with you—but +no—you begin Monday—and Miss Burgoyne comes back Monday—"</p> + +<p>"Does she? I thought she was ordered a long rest."</p> + +<p>Nina laughed.</p> + +<p>"She sees in the papers that you come back—it is to be a great +occasion—she says to herself, 'Will he sing with that Italian girl? No! +Let my throat be well or ill, I am going back;' and she is coming, Leo. +Never mind; I am to have the part of Clara; is it not an advancement? +And everything is so much more comfortable now; Miss Girond has taken a +room with Mrs. Grey; then we go home always together, and she has the +use of the piano—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Ross, please!" called a voice at the door.</p> + +<p>"All right!" she called in reply.</p> + +<p>"The chorus is on, miss."</p> + +<p>"All right!"<!-- Page 223 --><span class="pagenum">{223}</span></p> + +<p>"Ah," she continued, "it is so good to see you back, Leo; yes, yes? +London was a stranger city when you were away—there was no one. And it +is all you I have to thank, Leo, for my introduction here and my +good-fortune—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Nina!" he said. "What else could I have done? It isn't +you who ought to thank me—it's Lehmann; I consider him precious lucky +to have got a substitute for Miss Burgoyne so easily. So Miss Burgoyne +is coming back on Monday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nina, as she went to the door. "Shall I see you again, Leo, +to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm coming to hear you sing 'Now to the dance,'" he said, as he +followed her out into the corridor and ascended with her into the wings.</p> + +<p>This was a busy act for Nina; and the next time he had an opportunity of +talking with her was after she had dressed herself in her bridal robes +and was come up ready to go on the stage. Nina looked a little +self-conscious when she first encountered him in this attire; perhaps +she was afraid of his contrasting her appearance with that of Miss +Burgoyne. If he did, it was certainly not to Nina's disadvantage. No; +Nina was much more distinguished-looking and refined than the pert +little doll-like bride represented by Miss Burgoyne; she wore the +gorgeous costume of flowered white satin with ease and grace; and her +portentous white wig, with its feathered brilliants and strings of +pearls, seemed to add a greater depth and softness and mild lustre to +her dark, expressive eyes. For an instant, as she came up to him, those +beautiful, liquid eyes were turned to the ground.</p> + +<p>"I did not choose anything, Leo," she said, modestly; "I have had to +copy Miss Burgoyne."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's a difference somehow, Nina," said he, "and I think Miss +Burgoyne had better begin and copy you."</p> + +<p>For a swift instant she raised her eyes; she was more than pleased. But +she said nothing—indeed, she had now to go on the stage. And if he had +contrasted her appearance favorably with that of Miss Burgoyne, he was +now inclined to give a similar verdict with regard to her acting. It +certainly wanted the self-confidence of long experience and also the +emphasis and exaggeration of comedy-opera; it was not nearly impudent<!-- Page 224 --><span class="pagenum">{224}</span> +enough for the upper gallery; but it was graceful and natural to a +degree that surprised him. As for her voice, that was incomparably +better than Miss Burgoyne's; it was a fresh, sympathetic, finely +modulated voice that had been uninjured by excessive training or +excessive work. Lionel was quite proud of his <i>protégée</i>; unseen, here +in the wings, he could applaud as loudly as any; if Nina did not hear, +she must have been deaf. And when she came off at the end of the +act—or, rather, immediately after the recall, which was as enthusiastic +as the soul of actor or actress could desire—there was no stint to his +praise; and Nina's heartfelt pleasure on hearing this warm commendation +shone through all her stage make-up. He asked if he should wait to act +as escort to Miss Girond and herself; but Nina said no; Miss Girond and +she went home every night by themselves in a four-wheeled cab; she knew +he must be tired after his long journey; and he must go away and get to +bed at once. So Lionel shook hands with her and left the theatre, and +walked carelessly and absently home to his lodgings in Piccadilly.</p> + +<p>Well, he was glad to find his old friend and comrade, Nina, getting on +so well and so proud of her success and looking so charming in her new +part; and he guessed that she must have written to the grumbling old +Pandiani, and sent photographs of herself as Grace Mainwaring to Andrea +and Carmela and her other Neapolitan friends. But it was not of Nina +that he thought long, as he lay in the easy-chair and smoked, and +listened to the heavy murmur of the streets without. He had not got used +to London yet. The theatre seemed to him a great, glaring thing; the +lime-light an impertinent sham; even the applause of the delighted +audience somehow brutal and offensive. There was no repose, no +reticence, no self-respect and modesty about the whole affair; it was +all too violent; a fanfaronade; a coarse and ostentatious make-believe, +that seemed a kind of insult to a quiet mind. He turned away from it +altogether. His fancies had fled to the North again; the long railway +journey was annihilated; again he was driving out to the still and +beautiful valley, where those kind friends were standing at the door of +the lodge, fluttering a white welcome to him. He goes down the steep +hillside; he crosses the stream at the Horse's Drink; he reaches the +hall-door and is shaking hands with this one<!-- Page 225 --><span class="pagenum">{225}</span> and that. And if the tall, +proud maiden with the fine forehead and the clear, calm hazel eyes is +not among this group, be sure she will be here in the evening to add her +greeting to the rest. Oh, to think of that next morning—the sweet air +blowing down from the hills—the silver lights among the purple +clouds—the Aivron swinging along its gravelly bed, a deep, clear bronze +where the sunlight strikes the shallows! Farther and farther into the +solitudes these two idly wander—away from human ken—until the dogs in +the kennels are no longer heard, nor is there even a black-cock crowing +in the woods; nothing but the hum of the bees, and the whisper of the +birch branches, and the hushed, low thunder of the Geinig falls. He +could almost hear it now; or was not the continuous murmur that dazed +and dinned his ears a sadly different sound—the muffled roar of cabs +and carriages along Piccadilly, bearing home this teeming population +from the blare and glare of the crowded theatres? A different sound +indeed! He had come into another world; and the Aivron and Geinig, far +away, were alone with the darkness and the stars.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h4>A MAGNANIMOUS RIVAL.</h4> + + +<p>That Monday night at the New Theatre was a great occasion; for, although +there were a few people (themselves not of much account, perhaps) who +went about saying there was no one in London, an enormous house welcomed +back to the stage those well-known favorites, Miss Burgoyne and Mr. +Lionel Moore. And what had become of the Aivron and the Geinig +now?—their distant murmurs were easily drowned in the roar of +enthusiasm with which the vast audience—a mass of orange-hued faces +they seemed across the footlights—greeted the prima-donna and the +popular young baritone. Nina was here also, in her subordinate part. And +all that Miss Burgoyne could do, on the stage and off the stage, to +attract his attention, did not hinder Lionel from watching, with the +most affectionate interest, the manner in which his <i>protégée</i>, his old +comrade Nina, was acquitting herself. Clara was perhaps a little bit too +eager and anxious; she anticipated her cues; her parted lips seemed to +repeat what was<!-- Page 226 --><span class="pagenum">{226}</span> being said to her; lights and shadows of expression +chased each other over the mobile features and brightened or darkened +her eloquent eyes; and in her passages with Grace Mainwaring she was +most effusive, though that other young lady maintained a much more +matter-of-fact demeanor.</p> + +<p>"Capital, Nina! Very well done!" Lionel exclaimed (to himself) in the +wings. "You're on the right track. It is easier to tone down than to +brace up. Don't be afraid—keep it going—you'll grow business-like soon +enough."</p> + +<p>Here Clara had to come tripping off the stage, and Lionel had to go on; +he had no opportunity of speaking to her until the end of the act, when +they chanced to meet in the long glazed corridor.</p> + +<p>"You're a bit nervous to-night, Nina," he said, in a kindly way.</p> + +<p>"But so as to be bad?" she said, quickly and anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It was very well done indeed—it was splendid—but you almost take too +much pains. Most girls with a voice like yours would merely sing a part +like that and think the management was getting enough. I suppose you +don't know yourself that you keep repeating what the other person is +saying to you—as if he weren't getting on fast enough—"</p> + +<p>Nina paused for a second.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand—I understand what you mean," she said, rather +slowly; then she continued, in her usual way, "But to-night, Leo, I am +anxious—oh, there are so many things!—this is the first time I act +with Miss Burgoyne; and I wish them not to say I am a stick—for your +sake, Leo—you brought me here—I must do what I can."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nina, you don't half value yourself!" he said. "You think far too +little of yourself. You're a most wonderful creature to find in a +theatre. I consider that Lehmann is under a deep obligation to me for +giving him the chance of engaging you. By the way, have you heard what +he means to do on Sunday week?"</p> + +<p>"No—not at all!"</p> + +<p>"Saturday week is the 400th night," he continued; "and to celebrate it, +Lehmann is going to give the principal members of the company, and a few +friends, I suppose, a dinner at the Star and Garter at Richmond. Haven't +you heard?—but of course<!-- Page 227 --><span class="pagenum">{227}</span> he'll send you a card of invitation. The +worst of it is that it is no use driving down at this time of the year; +I suppose we shall have to get there just as we please, and meet in the +room; but I don't know how all the proper escorts are to be arranged. I +was thinking, Nina, I could take you and Miss Girond down, if you will +let me."</p> + +<p>There was a bright, quick look of pleasure in Nina's eyes—but only for +an instant.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Leo," she said, with lowered lashes. "That is not right. Miss +Burgoyne and you are the two principal people in the theatre—you are on +the stage equals—off the stage also you are her friend—you must take +her to Richmond, Leo."</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne?"</p> + +<p>But here the door of Miss Burgoyne's room was suddenly opened, and the +voice of the young lady herself was heard, in unmistakably angry tones:</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother your headache! I suppose it was your headache made you split +my blue jacket in two, and I suppose it was your headache made you smash +my brooch last night—I wonder what some women were born for!" And +therewithal the charming Grace Mainwaring made her appearance; and not a +word—hardly a look—did the indignant small lady choose to bestow on +either Lionel or Nina as she brushed by them on her way up to the wings.</p> + +<p>Yes, here he was in the theatre again, with all its trivial distractions +and interests, and also its larger excitements and ambitions and +rewards, not the least of which was the curious fascination he found in +holding a great audience hushed and enthralled, listening breathlessly +to every far-reaching, passionate note. Then his reappearance on the +stage brought him a renewal of all the friendly little attentions and +hospitalities that had been interrupted by his leaving for Scotland; for +if certain of his fashionable acquaintance were still away at their +country houses, there were plenty of others who had returned to town. +Club life had begun again, too. But most of all, at this time, Lionel +was disposed to enjoy that quiet and gentle companionship with Nina, +which was so simple and frank and unreserved. He could talk to her +freely, on all subjects save one—and that he was trying to put away +from himself in these altered circumstances. He and she had a community +of interests; there was<!-- Page 228 --><span class="pagenum">{228}</span> never any lack of conversation—whether he were +down in Sloane Street, drinking tea and trying over new music with her, +or walking in with Miss Girond and her to the theatre through the now +almost leafless Green Park. Sometimes, when she was grown petulant and +fractious, he had to scold her into good-humor; sometimes she had +seriously to remonstrate with him; but it was all given and taken in +good part. He was never embarrassed or anxious in her society; he was +happy and content and careless, as she appeared to be also. He did not +trouble to invent any excuse for calling upon her; he went down to +Sloane Street just whenever he had a spare half-hour or hour; and if the +morning was bright, or even passable (for it was November now, and even +a tolerable sort of day was welcome), and if Miss Girond did not wish to +go out or had some other engagement, Nina and he would set off for a +stroll by themselves, up into Kensington Gardens, it might be, or along +Piccadilly, or through the busy crowds of Oxford Street; while they +looked at the shops and the passers-by, and talked about the theatre and +the people in it or about old days in Naples. There was no harm; and +they thought no harm. Sometimes he could hear her hum to herself a +fragment of one of the old familiar canzoni—"Antoniella Antonià!" or +"Voca, voca ncas' a mano"—so light-hearted was she; and occasionally +they said a word to each other in Neapolitanese—but this was seldom, +for Nina considered the practice to be most reprehensible. What she had +chiefly to take him to task for, however, was his incurable and +inordinate extravagance—wherever she was concerned especially.</p> + +<p>"Leo, you think it is a compliment?" she said to him, earnestly. "No, +not at all? I am sorry. Why should you buy for me this, that, whatever +strikes your eye, and no matter the price? I have everything I desire. +Why to me?—why, if you must give, why not to your cousin you tell me +of, who is so kind to the sick children in boarding them in the country? +There, now, is something worthy, something good, something to be +praised—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, preach away, Nina!" he answered, with a laugh. "But I've +contributed to Francie's funds until she won't take anything more from +me—not at present. But why do you always talk about saving and saving? +You are an artist, Nina, and you put such value on money!"<!-- Page 229 --><span class="pagenum">{229}</span></p> + +<p>"But an artist grows old, Leo," she said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you have been saving a little yourself, Nina?" he said, at a +venture.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I have, Leo, a little," she answered, rather shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"What for?" he made bold to ask.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how do I know?" she said, with downcast eyes. "Many things might +happen: is it not safer? No, Leo, you must not say I love money for +itself; it is not fair to me; but—but if a dear friend is ill—if a +doctor says to him, 'Suspend all work and go away to Capri, to Algeria, +to Eg—Egippo'—is it right?—and perhaps he has been indiscreet—he has +been too generous to all his companions—he is in need—then you say, +'Here, take mine—it is between friends.' Then you are proud to have +money, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, Nina, that's what they call a parable," said he, darkly. +"But I am sure of this, that if that person were to be taken ill, and +were so very poor, and were to go to Nina for help, I don't think he +would have to fear any refusal. And then, as you say, Nina, you would be +proud to have the money—just as I know you would be ready to give it."</p> + +<p>It was rarely that Nina blushed, but now her pretty, pale face fairly +burned with conscious pleasure; and he hardly dared to look, yet he +fancied there was something of moisture in the long, dark lashes, while +she did not speak for some seconds. Perhaps he had been too bold in +interpreting her parable.</p> + +<p>Yes, there was no doubt that this spoiled favorite of the public, who +lived amid the excitements, the flatteries, the gratifications of the +moment, with hardly a thought of the future, was dreadfully extravagant, +though it was rarely on himself that he lavished his reckless +expenditure. Nina's protests were of no avail; whenever he saw anything +pretty or odd or interesting, that he thought would please her, it was +purchased there and then, to be given to her on the first opportunity. +One day he was going through Vigo Street, and noticed in a shop-window a +pair of old-fashioned, silver-gilt loving-cups—those that interclasp; +and forthwith he went in and bought them: "I'll take those; how much are +they" being his way of bargaining. In the afternoon he carried them down +to Sloane Street.</p> + +<p>"Here, Nina, I've brought you a little present; and I'll have<!-- Page 230 --><span class="pagenum">{230}</span> to show +you how to use it, or you would never guess what it is for."</p> + +<p>When he unrolled his pretty gift out of the pink tissue paper, Nina +threw up her hands in despair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is too much of a folly!" she exclaimed. "Why do you do it, Leo? +What is the use of old silver to me?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's nice to look at," said he. "And it will help to furnish your +house when you get married, Nina."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo," said she, "if you would only think about yourself! It is +always to-day, to-morrow, with you: never the coming years—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know all about that," he interposed. "Now I'm going to show you +how these are used. They're loving-cups, you know, Nina—"</p> + +<p>"Loving-cups?" she repeated, rather timidly.</p> + +<p>"Yes? and I will show you how the ceremony is performed. Now, will you +get me some lemonade, Nina, and a little of the vermouth that I sent to +Mrs. Grey?"</p> + +<p>She went and got these things for him; and when she returned he poured +into one of the tiny goblets about a teaspoonful of the vermouth, +filling it up with the lemonade; then he put the other cup on the top of +this one, so that they formed a continuous vessel; he shook the +contents; then he separated the cups, leaving about half the liquid in +each, and one of them he handed to Nina, retaining the other.</p> + +<p>"We drink at the same time, Nina—with any kind of wishes you like."</p> + +<p>She glanced towards him—and then shyly lowered her eyes—as she raised +the small cup to her lips. What were her wishes? Perhaps he did not care +to know; perhaps she would not have cared to tell.</p> + +<p>"You see, it is a simple ceremony, Nina," he said, as he put the little +goblet on the table again. "But at the same time it is very +confidential. I mean, you wouldn't ask everybody to go through it with +you—it would hardly, for example, be quite circumspect for you to ask +any young man you didn't know very well—"</p> + +<p>"Leo!"</p> + +<p>The sound of her voice startled him; there were tears of indignation in +it; he looked up and found she had grown suddenly pale.<!-- Page 231 --><span class="pagenum">{231}</span></p> + +<p>"You," she said, with quivering lips, "you and I, Leo—we have drunk +together out of these—and you think I allow any one else—any one +living in the world—to drink out of them after that?—I would rather +have them dashed to pieces and thrown into the sea!"</p> + +<p>Her vehemence surprised him—and might have set any other person +thinking; but he was used to Nina's proud and wayward moods; so he +merely went on to tell her that there was nothing, after all, so very +solemn in the ceremony of drinking from a loving-cup; and then he asked +her whether she ought not to call Miss Girond, for it was about time +they were going down to the theatre.</p> + +<p>Of course the forthcoming dinner that Mr. Lehmann was about to give at +the Star and Garter created quite a stir behind the scenes, where the +routine of life is much more monotonous than the people imagine who sit +in the stalls and regard the antics of the merry folk on the stage. +There were all kinds of rumors and speculations as to who was going with +whom, as to the number and quality of the visitors, and as to the +possibility of the manager presenting each of his lady-guests with a +little souvenir in honor of the occasion. So when Lionel was summoned to +Miss Burgoyne's room one evening, he was not surprised to find her begin +to talk of the following Sunday.</p> + +<p>"Will you make yourself some tea, Mr. Moore?" she said, from the inner +room. "There's some cake on the top of the piano. Then you can bring a +chair to the curtain, and I'll talk to you—for I'm not quite finished +yet."</p> + +<p>He drew a chair to the little opening in the curtain, where he could +hear what she had to say, and answer, without any indiscreet prying.</p> + +<p>"I am at your service, Miss Grace," said he, lightly.</p> + +<p>"How are you going down to Richmond on Sunday?" she asked at once.</p> + +<p>"By train, I suppose."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence—perhaps she was waiting for him to ask a +similar question.</p> + +<p>"Lord Denysfort is going to drive down," said the voice in the inner +room.</p> + +<p>"Lord Denysfort!" he said, contemptuously. "What she is the attraction +now? I don't like that kind of thing; it gets the<!-- Page 232 --><span class="pagenum">{232}</span> theatre a bad name. +If I were Lehmann, I wouldn't have a single stranger allowed in the +wings."</p> + +<p>"Not unless they were your own friends," said the unseen young lady, +complacently. "Now I know you're scowling. But I believe you are quite +wrong. Lord Denysfort is simply a business acquaintance of Mr. +Lehmann's—there are money matters between them, and that kind of thing; +and when he was asked to be present at the dinner, it was quite natural +that he should offer to drive some of us down. You have no particular +detestation of lords, have you? What has become of the tall, handsome +young man you brought to us at Henley—the lazy man—and didn't he come +to the theatre one night?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rockminster?—he is in Scotland still, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Somebody ought to put fireworks in his coat-tail pockets; but he's +awfully good-looking—he's just frightfully handsome. He quite fluttered +me."</p> + +<p>"I say, Miss Burgoyne," Lionel interposed, quickly, "there's a +sister-in-law of his coming to town shortly, on her way to Brighton—a +Miss Cunyngham—and I should like to have her mother and herself come +behind for a little while, some night they were at the theatre—it is +interesting to those people, you know—"</p> + +<p>"You are the one who would have no strangers in the wings!" said the +voice.</p> + +<p>"And I want you to be civil to them—"</p> + +<p>"Tea and cake? All right. But you haven't told me how you are going down +to Richmond."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have. I'm going down by train, most likely."</p> + +<p>"Oh, by train. I suppose I ought to accept Lord Denysfort's invitation."</p> + +<p>"What's the good of driving at this time of year?" he asked. "It will be +pitch dark."</p> + +<p>"There will be a full moon, they say."</p> + +<p>"You won't see it because of the fog. In fact, the whole thing is a +mistake. The dinner should have been given in London."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think it will be great fun dining at a half-deserted hotel—it +will be ghostly—and I'm going out on the terrace, if it is as black as +midnight."</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do with your gallant warrior—<!-- Page 233 --><span class="pagenum">{233}</span>with the +furious fire-eater who wanted to bring my humble career to a premature +end?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know who you mean," said the voice, but with no great decision.</p> + +<p>"You don't remember saving my life, then?" he asked. "Have you forgotten +the duel that was to have been fought before I went to Scotland, and how +you stepped in to protect me? If it hadn't been for you, I might have +fallen on the gory field of battle—"</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for you to mock," said she, "but there's nothing +that young man wouldn't do for my sake; and I don't see anything to +laugh at in true esteem and affection. They're too rare nowadays. I know +one or two gentlemen who might be improved by a little more devotion +and—and chivalry. But it's all persiflage nowadays. Everything is +<i>connu</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Behind the scenes, perhaps; but it's different when you import the +fresh, the ingenuous element from the outer world," said he (but what +interest had he in the discussion?—he did not wear his heart on his +sleeve for Miss Burgoyne to peck at). "Aren't you going to take Mr. +Miles down with you?"</p> + +<p>"Poor Percy!" said the now muffled voice (perhaps she had a pin in her +teeth, or perhaps she was still further touching-up her lips), "I +suppose he would come if he were invited; but he doesn't know any of +them."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask Lehmann for an invitation for him?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Mr. Moore?" demanded the voice—sharply enough now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing."</p> + +<p>"I consider you are very impertinent. Why should I ask for an invitation +for Mr. Miles? What would that imply? Do you suppose I particularly wish +him to be there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't mean to offend," Lionel said, quite humbly. "Only—you +see—the other night you showed me that ingenious dodge of covering the +ring you wear with a bit of white india-rubber—and—and I thought it +might be an engagement ring—worn on that finger—"</p> + +<p>"Then you're quite wrong, Mr. Clever," said the voice. "That ring was +given me by a very dear friend, a very, very dear friend—I won't tell +you whether a he or a she—and it fits that finger; but all the same I +don't want the public to think I am engaged. So there—for your +wonderful guessing!"<!-- Page 234 --><span class="pagenum">{234}</span></p> + +<p>"I'm sure I beg your pardon," said he; "I didn't mean to be +inquisitive."</p> + +<p>But at this moment the intervening curtains were thrown open, and here +was Grace Mainwaring, in full panoply of white satin and pearls and +powdered hair. She was followed by her maid. She went to the long mirror +in this larger room, and began to put the finishing touches to the set +of her costume and also to her make-up. Then she told Jane to go and get +the inner room tidied; and when the maid had disappeared she turned to +the young baritone.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," said she, rather pointedly, "you are not very +communicative."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"I understand you are going to take Miss Ross and Miss Girond down to +Richmond on Sunday; I don't see myself why you should conceal it."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of concealing it!" he exclaimed, with a little +surprise. "Why should a trifling arrangement like that be concealed—or +mentioned either?"</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne regarded herself in the mirror again, and touched her +white wig here and there and the black beauty-spots on her cheek and +chin.</p> + +<p>"I have been told," she remarked, rather scornfully, "that gentlemen are +fond of the society of chorus-girls—I suppose they enjoy a certain +freedom there that they don't meet elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Neither Miss Ross nor Miss Girond is a chorus-girl," he said—though he +wasn't going to lose his temper over nothing.</p> + +<p>"They have both sung in the chorus," she retorted, snappishly.</p> + +<p>"That is neither here nor there," he said. "Why, what does it matter how +we go down, when we shall all meet there on a common footing? It was an +obviously simple arrangement—Sloane Street is on my way, whether I go +by road or rail—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray don't make any apology to <i>me—I</i> am not interested in the +question," she observed, in a most lofty manner, as she still affected +to be examining her dress in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't making any apology to anybody," he said, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Or explanation," she continued, in the same tone. "You seem to have a +strange fancy for foreigners, Mr. Moore; and I<!-- Page 235 --><span class="pagenum">{235}</span> suppose they are glad to +be allowed to practice talking with any one who can speak decent +English."</p> + +<p>"Nina—I mean Miss Ross—is an old friend of mine," he said, just +beginning to chafe a little. "It is a very small piece of courtesy that +I should offer to see her safely down to Richmond, when she is a +stranger, with hardly any other acquaintance in London—"</p> + +<p>"But pray don't make any excuse to <i>me</i>—what have <i>I</i> to do with it?" +Miss Burgoyne said, sweetly. And then, as she gathered up her long train +and swung it over her arm, she added, "Will you kindly open the door for +me, Mr. Moore?" And therewith she passed out and along the corridor and +up into the wings—he attending her, for he also was wanted in this +scene.</p> + +<p>Well, Miss Burgoyne might drive down to Richmond with Lord Denysfort or +with any one else; he was not going to forsake Nina. On the afternoon +appointed, just as it was dark, he called at the house in Sloane Street, +and found the two young ladies ready, with nothing but their bonnets to +put on. Both of them, he thought, were very prettily dressed; but Nina's +costume had a somewhat severe grace, and, indeed, rather comported with +Nina's demeanor towards this little French chatterbox, whom she seemed +to regard with a kind of grave and young-matronly consideration and +forbearance. When they had got into the brougham which was waiting +outside for them and had started away for Putney Bridge, it was Mlle. +Girond who was merry and excited and talkative; Nina only listened, in +good-humored amusement. Mlle. Girond had never been to Richmond, but she +had heard of it; she knew all about the beautiful view and the terrace +overlooking the river, and she was promising herself the romance and +charm of a stroll in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I don't see much sign of that full moon as yet," Lionel said to her, +peering through the window of the brougham, "but I suppose the glare of +the gas-lamps would hide it in any case. However, there's a good deal of +fog always along the Thames at this time of year; don't be disappointed, +Miss Girond, if you have to remain in-doors. Indeed, it is far too cold +to go wandering about among statues in the moonlight."</p> + +<p>"And if in the dark, they will be all the more mysterieuz, do +you not think?" said Mlle. Girond, eagerly. "And there will<!-- Page 236 --><span class="pagenum">{236}</span> be +surprises—perhaps a laugh, perhaps a shriek—if you run against some +one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I am not going to allow anything of that kind," said he. "I +have to look after you young ladies, and you must conduct yourselves +with the strictest decorum."</p> + +<p>"Yes, for Nina," Mlle. Girond cried, gayly. "That is for Nina—for me, +no! I will have some amusement, or I will run away. Who gave you control +of me, monsieur? I thank you, but I do not wish it."</p> + +<p>"Estelle!" said Nina, in tones of grave reproach.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the wilful young lady, and she put out the tips of her +fingers as though she would shake away from her these too-serious +companions. "You have become English, Nina. Very well. If I have no more +gay companion, I go out and seek a statue—I beckon to him—I defy +him—ah! he freezes me—he nods his head—it is the Commendatore!" And +then she sang, in portentous bass notes—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"Don Giovanni, a cenar teco</div> +<div class="verse">M' invitasti—è son venuto!"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Lionel let down the window.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that, Miss Girond?"</p> + +<p>Far away, above the blue mists and the jet-black trees (for they were +out in the country by this time), hung a small, opaque disk of dingy +orange.</p> + +<p>"It is the moon, Leo!" cried Nina. "Ah, but so dull!"</p> + +<p>"That is the fog lying over the low country," he said; "it may be +clearer when we get to the top of the hill. It is to be hoped so, at all +events. Fancy a theatrical company going out to a rustic festivity and +not provided with a better moon than that!"</p> + +<p>However, when they finally reached the Star and Garter, they had +forgotten about the moon and the aspect of the night; for here were the +wide steps and the portico all ablaze with a friendly yellow glow; and +just inside stood Mr. Lehmann, with the most shining shirt-front ever +beheld, receiving his guests as they arrived. Here, too, was Lord +Denysfort, a feeble-looking young man, with huge ears and no chin to +speak of, who, however, had shown some sense in engaging a professional +whip to drive the four-in-hand down through the fog. Of course there was +a good deal of bustle and hurry and confusion—friends<!-- Page 237 --><span class="pagenum">{237}</span> anxious about +the non-arrival of other friends and so forth—in the midst of which +Lionel said to his two companions,</p> + +<p>"Dinner will be a long time yet. The ladies who have driven down will be +making themselves beautiful for another quarter of an hour. Suppose we +go out on the balcony, and see whether any of Miss Girond's statues are +visible."</p> + +<p>They agreed to this, for they had not taken off their cloaks; so he led +them along the hall and round by a smaller passage to a door which he +opened; they got outside, and found themselves in the hushed, still +night. Below them, on the wide terrace, they could make out the wan, +gray, plaster pillars and pediments and statues among the jet-black +shrubs; but beyond that all was chaos; the river and the wooded valley +were shrouded in a dense mist, pierced only here and there by a small +orange ray—some distant window or lamp. They wandered down the wide +steps; they crossed to the parapet; they gazed into that great unknown +gulf, in which they could descry nothing but one or two spectral black +trees, their topmost branches coming up into the clearer air. Then they +walked along to the southern end of the terrace; and here they came in +sight of the moon—a far-distant world on fire it seemed to be, +especially when the sombre golden radiance touched a passing tag of +cloud and changed it into lurid smoke. All the side of the vast building +looking towards them was dark—save for one window that burned red.</p> + +<p>"Is that where we dine?" asked Nina, as they returned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," Lionel answered. "Our room is at the end of the passage by +which we came out—I suppose the shutters are closed. I fancy that is +the coffee-room."</p> + +<p>"I am going to have a peep in," Mlle. Girond said, as they ascended the +steps again; and when they had reached the balcony she went along to the +window, leaving her companions behind, for they did not share in this +childish curiosity. But the next moment little Capitaine Crépin came +back, in a great state of excitement.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, come!" she said, breathlessly. "Ah, the poor young +gentleman—all alone!—my heart feels for him—Mr. Moore, it is +piteous."</p> + +<p>"Well, what have you discovered now?" said Lionel, indifferently, for he +was getting hungry.<!-- Page 238 --><span class="pagenum">{238}</span></p> + +<p>"Come and see—come and see! All alone—no one to say a word—"</p> + +<p>Lionel and Nina followed their eager guide along the dark balcony, until +they had got near the brilliant red window. They looked in. The room was +bright with crimson-shaded lamps, and its solitary occupant they made +out clearly enough; it was Mr. Percival Miles—in evening dress, +standing before the fireplace, gazing into the coals, his hands in his +pockets.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Nina, as she quickly drew back, "that is the young gentleman +who sometimes waits for Miss Burgoyne, is it not, Leo? And he is all by +himself. It is hard."</p> + +<p>"You think it is hard, Nina?" Lionel said, turning to her, as the three +spies simultaneously withdrew.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes!" Nina exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," continued Lionel, as he opened the glass door to let +his companions re-enter the hotel, "an outsider who comes skylarking +after an actress, and finds her surrounded by her professional friends +and her professional interests, has to undergo a good deal of +tribulation. That poor fellow has come down here to dine all by himself, +merely to be near her. But, mind you, it was that same fellow who wanted +to kill me."</p> + +<p>"He, kill you!" Nina said, scornfully. "You allowed him to live—yes?"</p> + +<p>"But I don't bear any malice. No, I don't. I'm going to make that boy +just the very happiest young man there is in the kingdom of Great +Britain this evening."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I know, I know!" exclaimed Nina, delightedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you don't know. You don't know anything about it. What you and +Miss Girond have got to do now is to go into the cloak-room and leave +your things, and afterwards I'll meet you in the dining-room."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you are going to Mr. Lehmann!" said Nina, with a laugh. "I do +not know?—yes, I do know. Ah, that is generous of you, Leo—that is +noble."</p> + +<p>"Noble?—trash!" he said; and he hurried these young people along to the +disrobing-room and left them there. Then he went to the manager, who was +still in the hall.</p> + +<p>"I say," he began, without more ado, "there's a young friend of mine in +this hotel whom I wish you'd invite to dine with us."<!-- Page 239 --><span class="pagenum">{239}</span></p> + +<p>The manager looked rather startled—then hesitated—then stroked his +waxed moustache.</p> + +<p>"I—I presume a gentleman friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," said Lionel, angrily. "It's a Percival Miles—why, you +must have heard of Sir Barrington Miles, and this is his eldest son, +though he's quite a young fellow—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well; oh, yes, certainly!" said Mr. Lehmann, apparently very +much relieved. "Will you ask him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no, I can't exactly," Lionel said. "But I will send him a formal +note in your name—'Mr. Lehmann presents his compliments'—may I?"</p> + +<p>"All right; but dinner will be served almost directly. Would you mind +telling the waiters to lay another cover?"</p> + +<p>About five minutes thereafter, when the company had swarmed into the +dining-room—most of them chatting and laughing, but the more +business-like looking for their allotted places at table—Mr. Percival +Miles put in an appearance, very shy and perhaps a little bewildered, +for he knew not to whom he owed this invitation. Lionel had got a seat +for him between Mlle. Girond and Mr. Carey, the musical conductor; if he +could, and if he had dared, he would have placed him next Miss Burgoyne; +but Miss Burgoyne was at the head of the table, between Lord Denysfort +and Mr. Lehmann—besides, that fiery young lady might have taken sudden +cause of offence. As it was, the young gentleman could gaze upon her +from afar; and she had bowed to him—with some surprise clearly showing +in her face—just as their eyes had met on his coming into the room. +Lionel was next to Nina; he had arranged that.</p> + +<p>It was a protracted banquet, and a merry one withal; there was a perfect +Babel of noise; and the excellent old custom of drinking healths with +distant friends was freely adopted. Miss Girond did her best to amuse +the good-looking boy whom she had been instrumental in rescuing from his +solitary dinner in the coffee-room; but he did not respond as he ought +to have done; from time to time he glanced wistfully towards the head of +the table, where Miss Burgoyne was gayly chatting with Lord Denysfort. +As for Nina, Nina was very quiet, but very much interested, as her dark, +expressive eyes eloquently showed.</p> + +<p>"It is so beautiful, Leo," she said. "Every one looks so well; is it the +light reflected from the table?" And then she<!-- Page 240 --><span class="pagenum">{240}</span> said, in a lower tone, +"Do you see Miss Burgoyne, Leo? She is acting all the time. She is +acting to the whole table."</p> + +<p>"That Albanian jacket of hers is gorgeous enough, anyway," Lionel +responded; he was not much interested apparently in the question of Miss +Burgoyne's behavior.</p> + +<p>When dinner had been some little time over, the women-folk went away and +got wraps and shawls, and the whole company passed outside, the men +lighting their cigars at the top of the steps. The heavens overhead were +now perfectly clear; the moonlight shone full on the long terrace, with +its parapets and pedestals and plaster figures, while all the world +below was shut away in a dense fog. Indeed, as the various groups idly +walked about or stood and talked—their shadows sharply cut as out of +ebony on the white stone—the whole scene was most extraordinary; for it +appeared as though these people were the sole occupants of some region +in cloud-land—a clear-shining region raised high above the forgotten +earth.</p> + +<p>"Lehmann is lucky," Lionel said to Nina. "I thought his moonlight effect +was going to be a failure."</p> + +<p>Miss Girond came up, in an eager and excited fashion.</p> + +<p>"Nina!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Estelle?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur of the pretty face," she said, in a whisper, "oh, so sad he +was all dinner!—regarding Miss Burgoyne, and she coquetting, oh, +frightful, frightful!—but it is all right now—he was at the door when +we come out—he takes her hand—'How you do, Miss Burgoyne?'—'Oh, how +you do, Mr. Miles?'—and he leads her away before she can go to any one +else. And there—away down there—do you see them? He has compensation, +do you think?"</p> + +<p>She drew Nina a little aside, and sang into her ear—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="versei1">"—Ce soir, as-tu vu</div> +<div class="verse">La fille à notre maître,</div> +<div class="versei1">D'un air résolu</div> +<div class="verse">Guettant à sa fenêtre?</div> +<div class="versei1">Eh bien! qu'en dis tu?</div> +<div class="versei1">—Je dis que j'ai tout vu,</div> +<div class="versei1">Mais je n'ai rien cru;</div> +<div class="versei1">Je l'aime, je l'aime,</div> +<div class="versei1">Je l'aime quand même!"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="noind">and then she broke into a malicious laugh.<!-- Page 241 --><span class="pagenum">{241}</span></p> + +<p>"What are you two conspiring about, now?" Lionel asked—from the bench +on which he had carelessly seated himself, the better to enjoy his +cigar.</p> + +<p>"You must know the consequence of doing a good action, Leo," Nina said +to him. "Do you see the black bushes—yonder—and the two figures? +Estelle says it is Miss Burgoyne and the young gentleman who would have +been all alone but that you intercede. Is he not owing a great deal to +you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Nina, if there is any gratitude in woman's bosom, Miss Burgoyne +ought to be indebted to me too. She has got her pretty dear. I dare say +he would have managed to procure a little interview with her, in some +surreptitious way, in any case—I dare say that was his intention in +coming down; but now that he is one of the party, one of the guests, she +can talk to him before every one. And since I have been the means of +bringing the pair of turtle-doves together, I hope they're happy."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Leo, you do not understand," Nina said to him—for Miss Girond was +now talking to Mr. Carey, who had come up.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand what?"</p> + +<p>"You do not understand Miss Burgoyne," said Nina.</p> + +<p>"What don't I understand about her, then?"</p> + +<p>Nina shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Why should I say? You will not believe. Perhaps she is grateful to you +for bringing in that young man—yes, perhaps—but if she would rather +have yourself to go and talk with her and be her companion before all +those people? Oh, you do not believe? No, you are too modest—as she is +vain and jealous. All during the dinner she was playing coquette, +openly, for every one to see; Estelle says it was to pique the young man +who came from the other room; no, Leo, it was not—it was meant for +you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Nina!—I wasn't thinking anything about her!"</p> + +<p>"Does she think that, Leo?" Nina said to him, gently. "Ah, you do not +know that woman. She is clever; she is cunning; she wishes to have the +fame of being associated with you—even in a photograph for the +shop-windows; and you are so blind! The duel?—yes, she would have liked +that, too, for the newspapers to speak about it, and the public to talk, +and her name and yours together; but then she says, 'No, he will owe +more<!-- Page 242 --><span class="pagenum">{242}</span> to me if I interfere and get an apology for him,' It is one way or +the other way—anything to win your attention—that you should care for +her—and that you should show it to the world—"</p> + +<p>"Nina, Nina," said he, "you want to make me outrageously vain. Do you +imagine she had a single thought for me when she had Lord Denysfort to +carry on with—he hasn't much in his head, poor devil! but a title goes +a long way in the theatrical world—and when she could practise on the +susceptibilities of her humble adorer who was further down the table? +Oh, I fancy Miss Burgoyne had enough to occupy herself with this evening +without thinking of me. She was quite busy."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you do not understand, Leo," Nina said. "But some day you may +understand—if Miss Burgoyne still finds you indifferent, and becomes +angry. But before that, she will try much—"</p> + +<p>"Nina!"</p> + +<p>"You will see, Leo!" Nina said; and that was all she could say just +then, for Mr. Lehmann came up to take the general vote as to whether +they would rather have tea out there in the moonlight or return to the +dining-room.</p> + +<p>But any doubt as to the manner in which Miss Burgoyne regarded his +intercession on behalf of Mr. Percival Miles was removed, and that in a +most summary fashion, by the young lady herself. As they were about to +leave the hotel, the men were standing about in the hall, chatting at +haphazard or lighting a fresh cigar, while they waited for the +women-folk to get ready. Lionel saw Miss Burgoyne coming along the +corridor, and was glad of the chance of saying good-night to her before +she got on to the front of Lord Denysfort's drag. But it was not +good-night that Miss Burgoyne had in her mind.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," she said, when she came up, and she spoke in a low, clear, +incisive voice that considerably startled him. "I am told it was through +you that that boy was invited to the dinner to-night."</p> + +<p>He looked at her in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Well, what then?" he exclaimed. "What was the objection? I thought he +was a friend of yours. That boy?—that boy is a sufficiently important +person, surely—heir to the Petmansworth estates—why I should have +thought—"<!-- Page 243 --><span class="pagenum">{243}</span></p> + +<p>She interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"I consider it a gross piece of impertinence," she said, haughtily. "I +suppose you thought you were conferring a favor on <i>me</i>! How dared you +assume that any one—that any one—wished him to be present in that +room?"</p> + +<p>She turned proudly away from him, without waiting for his reply.</p> + +<p>"Lord Denysfort, here I am," said she; and the chinless young man with +the large ears gave her his arm and conducted her down the steps. Lionel +looked after her—bewildered.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h4>"LET THE STRUCKEN DEER GO WEEP."</h4> + + +<p>But if Lionel regarded this constant association with Nina—this +unreserved discussion of all their private affairs—even the sort of +authority and guidance he exercised over her at times—as so simple and +natural a thing that it was unnecessary to pause and ask whither it +might tend, what about Nina herself? She was quite alone in England; she +had more regard for the future than he had; what if certain wistful +hopes, concealed almost from herself, had sprung up amid all this +intimate and frankly affectionate companionship?</p> + +<p>One morning she and Estelle were walking in to Regent Street, to examine +proofs of certain photographs that had been taken of them both (for +Clara figured in the shop-windows now, as well as Capitaine Crépin). +Nina was very merry and vivacious on this sufficiently bright forenoon; +and to please Estelle she was talking French—her French being fluent +enough, if it was not quite perfect as to accent. They were passing +along Piccadilly, when she stopped at a certain shop.</p> + +<p>"Come, I show you something," she said.</p> + +<p>Estelle followed her in. The moment the shopman saw who it was he did +not wait to be questioned.</p> + +<p>"It is quite ready, miss; I was just about to send it down."</p> + +<p>He brought forward the double loving-cup that Lionel had given to Nina; +and as the young lady took it into her hands she glanced at the rim. +Yes; the inscription was quite right:<!-- Page 244 --><span class="pagenum">{244}</span> "<i>From Leo to Nina</i>"—that was +the simple legend she had had engraved.</p> + +<p>"Here is the cup I spoke of, Estelle; is it not beautiful? And then I +would not trouble Lionel to have the inscription made—I told him I +would have it done myself and asked him what the words should be—behold +it!"</p> + +<p>The cup was duly admired and handed back to be sent down to Sloane +Street; then Estelle and she left the shop together.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it is very beautiful," said the former, continuing to speak in +her native tongue, "and a very distinguished present; but there is +something still more piquant that he will be buying for you ere +long—can you not guess, Nina?—no?—not a wedding-ring?"</p> + +<p>The audacity of the question somewhat disconcerted Nina; but she met it +with no sham denial, no affected protest.</p> + +<p>"He has not spoken to me, Estelle," Nina said, gravely and simply, "And +sometimes I ask myself if it is not better we should remain as we +are—we are such good friends and companions. We are happy; we have +plenty to occupy ourselves with; why undertake more serious cares? +Perhaps that is all that Lionel thinks of it; and, if it is so, I am +content. And then sometimes, Estelle, I ask myself if it would not be +better for him to marry—when he has made his choice, that is to say; +and I picture him and his young wife living very happily in a quite +small establishment—perhaps two or three rooms only, in one of those +large buildings in Victoria Street—and everything very pretty around +them, with their music and their occupations and the visits of friends. +Would not that be for him a life far more satisfactory than his present +distractions—the gayeties and amusements—the invitations of +strangers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes!" her companion cried, with instant assent. "Ah, Nina, I +can see you the most charming young house-mistress—I can see you +receive your guests when they come for afternoon music—you wear a +tea-gown of brocade the color of wall-flower, with cream-colored +lace—you speak French, English, Italian as it is necessary for this one +and that—your musical reunions are known everywhere. Will madame permit +the poor Estelle to be present?—Estelle, who will not dare to sing +before those celebrated ones, but who will applaud, applaud—in herself +a prodigious <i>claque</i>! And now, behold! Miss Burgoyne arrives—Miss<!-- Page 245 --><span class="pagenum">{245}</span> +Burgoyne in grand state—and nevertheless you are her dear Nina, her +charming friend, although in her heart she hates you for having carried +off the handsome Lionel—"</p> + +<p>"Estelle," said Nina, gently, "you let your tongue run away. When I +picture to myself Lionel in the future, I leave the space beside him +empty. Who is to fill it?—perhaps he has never given a thought to that. +Perhaps it will always be empty; perhaps one of his fashionable friends +will suddenly appear there, who knows? He does not seem ever to look +forward; if I remonstrate about his expenditure, he laughs. And why +should he give me things of value? I am not covetous. If he wishes to +express kindness, is not a word better than any silver cup; If he wishes +to be remembered when he is absent, would not the smallest message sent +in a letter be of more value than a bracelet with sapphires—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nina," her companion exclaimed, laughing, "what a thing to +say!—that you would rather have a scrap of writing from Lionel Moore +than a bracelet with sapphires—"</p> + +<p>"No, Estelle, I did not," Nina protested, rather indignantly; "I was +talking of the value of presents generally, and of their use or +uselessness."</p> + +<p>"And yet you seemed very proud of that loving-cup, Nina, and of the +inscription on it," Estelle said, demurely; and there the subject ended, +for they were now approaching the photographer's.</p> + +<p>It was a Saturday night that Honnor Cunyngham and her mother—who had +come up from Brighton for a few days—had been induced to fix for their +visit to the New Theatre; and as the evening drew near, Lionel became +more and more anxious, so that he almost regretted having persuaded +them. All his other troubles and worries he could at once carry to Nina, +whose cheerful common-sense and abundant courage made light of them and +lent him heart; but this one he had to ponder over by himself; he did +not care to tell Nina with what concern he looked forward to the +impressions that Miss Cunyngham might form of himself and his +surroundings when brought immediately into contact with them. And yet he +was not altogether silent.</p> + +<p>"You see how it is, Nina," he said, in tones of deep vexation. "That +fellow Collier has been allowed to gag and gag until the<!-- Page 246 --><span class="pagenum">{246}</span> whole piece is +filled with his music-hall tomfoolery, and the music has been made quite +subsidiary. I wonder Lehmann doesn't get a lot of acrobats and +conjurors, and let Miss Burgoyne and you and me stop at home. "The +Squire's Daughter" is really a very pretty piece, with some delightful +melody running through it; but that fellow has vulgarized it into the +lowest burlesque."</p> + +<p>"What does it matter to you, Leo?" Nina said. "What he does is separate +from you. He cannot vulgarize your singing."</p> + +<p>"But he makes all that clowning of his so important—it has become so +big a feature of the piece that any friends of yours coming to see the +little opera might very naturally say, 'Oh, is this the kind of thing he +figures in? This is an intellectual entertainment, truly!'"</p> + +<p>"But you do not join in it, Leo!" Nina protested.</p> + +<p>"In the most gagging scene of all, I've got to stand and look on the +whole time!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Leo," Nina said, with mock sympathy, "you can listen to Miss +Burgoyne as she talks to you from behind her fan."</p> + +<p>"Those two ladies I told you of," he continued, "who are coming on +Saturday night—I wonder what they will think of all that low-comedy +stuff. I begin to wish I hadn't asked them to come behind, but I thought +it might be a sort of inducement. Miss Cunyngham was very kind to me +when I was in the Highlands, and this was all I could think of; but I +don't think she has much of the frivolous curiosity of her +sisters-in-law; and I am not sure that her mother and she would even +care much for the honor of having tea in Miss Burgoyne's room. No, I +wish I hadn't asked them."</p> + +<p>"Do you value their opinion so highly, then, Leo?" Nina asked, gently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he said, with some hesitation—"that is, I shouldn't like +them to form any unfavorable impression—to go away with any scornful +feeling towards comic opera, and towards the people engaged in it; I +should like them to think well of the piece. I suppose I couldn't bribe +Collier to leave out the half of his gag, or the whole of it, for that +particular night. Did you see what one of the papers said about the +400th performance?—that the fate of "The Squire's Daughter" had for<!-- Page 247 --><span class="pagenum">{247}</span> +some time been doubtful, but that it had been saved by the increased +prominence given to the part played by Mr. Fred Collier!—a compliment +to the public taste!—the piece saved by lugging in a lot of music-hall +buffoonery!"</p> + +<p>"But, Leo," Nina said, "your friends who are coming on Saturday night +will not think you responsible for all that."</p> + +<p>"People are apt to judge of you by your associates, Nina," he said, +absently; he was clearly looking forward to this visit with some +compunction, not to say alarm.</p> + +<p>Then he went to Miss Burgoyne. Miss Burgoyne had forgiven him for having +introduced Percival Miles to the Richmond dinner-party; indeed, she was +generally as ready to forgive as she was quick to take offence.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would do me a very great favor," he said.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Grace Mainwaring, who was standing in front of the +tall mirror, adjusting the shining stars and crescents that adorned her +powdered hair.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you could wear a little nosegay with that dress," he said, +"of natural flowers, done up with a bit of white satin ribbon, perhaps, +and a silver tube and cord, or something of that kind?"</p> + +<p>"Flowers?" she repeated. "Oh, yes, I could wear them—if any one were +polite enough to give me them."</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted to send you some every evening for a month, if +you'll only do this for me on Saturday," said he. "It is on Saturday +night those two ladies are coming to the theatre; and you were good +enough to promise to ask them to your room and offer them some tea. The +younger of the two—that is, Miss Cunyngham—has never been behind the +scenes of a theatre before, and I think she will be very pleased to be +introduced to Miss Grace Mainwaring; and don't you think it would be +rather nice of Miss Grace Mainwaring to take those flowers from her +dress and present them to the young lady, as a souvenir of her visit?"</p> + +<p>She wheeled round, and looked at him with a curious scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"Well, this <i>is</i> something new!" she said, as she turned to the mirror +again. "I thought it was the fortunate Harry Thornhill who received all +kinds of compliments and attentions from his lady adorers; I wasn't +aware he ever returned them. But do<!-- Page 248 --><span class="pagenum">{248}</span> you think it is quite fair, Mr. +Moore? If this is some girl who has a love-sick fancy for Harry +Thornhill, don't you think you should drop Harry Thornhill and play +David Garrick, to cure the poor thing?"</p> + +<p>"Considering that Miss Cunyngham has never seen Harry Thornhill," he was +beginning, when she interrupted him:</p> + +<p>"Oh, only heard him sing in private? Quite enough, I suppose, to put +nonsense into a silly school-girl's head."</p> + +<p>"When you see this young lady," he observed, "I don't think you will say +she looks like a silly school-girl. She's nearly as tall as I am, for +one thing."</p> + +<p>"I hate giraffes," said Miss Burgoyne, tartly, "Do you put a string +round her neck when you go out walking with her?"</p> + +<p>He was just on the point of saying something about greenroom manners, +but thought better of it.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Burgoyne," he said to her, "on Saturday night you are going +to put on your most winning way—you can do it when you like—and you +are going to captivate and fascinate those two people until they'll go +away home with the conviction that you are the most charming and +delightful creature that ever lived. You can do it easily enough if you +like—no one better. You are going to be very nice to them, and you'll +send them away just in love with Grace Mainwaring."</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne altered her tone a little.</p> + +<p>"If I give your giraffe friend those flowers, I suppose you expect me to +tell lies as well?" she asked, with some approach to good-humor.</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, about being delighted to make her acquaintance, and that kind of +thing."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt you will be as pleased to make her acquaintance as she +will be to make yours," said he, "and a few civil words never do any +harm."</p> + +<p>Here Miss Burgoyne was called. She went to the little side-table and +sipped some of her home-brewed lemonade; then he opened the door for +her, and together they went up into the wings.</p> + +<p>"Tall, is she?" continued Miss Burgoyne, as they were looking on at Mr. +Fred Collier's buffooneries out there on the stage. "Is she as silent +and stupid as her brother?"<!-- Page 249 --><span class="pagenum">{249}</span></p> + +<p>"Her brother?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rockminster."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord Rockminster isn't her brother. You've got them mixed up," said +Lionel. "Miss Cunyngham's brother, Sir Hugh, married a sister of Lord +Rockminster—the Lady Adela Cunyngham who came to your room one +night—don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>"You seem to have the whole peerage and baronetage at your fingers' +ends," said she, sullenly; and the next moment she was on the stage, +smiling and gracious, and receiving her father's guests with that +charming manner which the heroine of the operetta could assume when she +chose.</p> + +<p>Even with Miss Burgoyne's grudgingly promised assistance, Lionel still +remained unaccountably perturbed about that visit of Lady Cunyngham and +her daughter; and when on the Saturday evening he first became +aware—through the confused glare of the footlights—that the two ladies +had come into the box he had secured for them, it seemed to him as +though he were responsible for every single feature of the performance. +As for himself, he was at his best, and he knew it; he sang, 'The starry +night brings me no rest' with such a <i>verve</i> that the enthusiasm of the +audience was unbounded; even Miss Burgoyne—Miss Grace Mainwaring, that +is, who was perched up on a bit of scaffolding in order to throw a rose +to her lover—listened with a new interest, instead of being busy with +her ribbons and the set of her hair; and when she opened the casement in +answer to his impassioned appeal, she kissed the crimson-cotton blossom +thrice ere she dropped it to her enraptured swain below. This was all +very well; but when the comic man took possession of the stage, +Lionel—instead of going off to his dressing-room to glance at an +evening paper or have a chat with some acquaintance—remained in the +wings, looking on with an indescribable loathing. This hideous +farcicality seemed more vulgar than ever? what would Honnor Cunyngham +think of his associates? He felt as if he were an accomplice in foisting +this wretched music-hall stuff on the public. And the mother—the tall +lady with the proud, fine features and the grave and placid voice—what +would she think of the new acquaintance whom her daughter had introduced +to her? Had it been Lady Adela or her sisters, he would not have cared +one jot. They were<!-- Page 250 --><span class="pagenum">{250}</span> proud to be in alliance with professional people; +they flattered themselves that they rather belonged to the set—actors, +authors, artists, musicians, those busy and eager amateurs considered to +be, like themselves, of imagination all compact. But that he should have +asked Honnor Cunyngham to come and look on at the antics of this gaping +and grinning fool; that she should know he had to consort with such +folk; that she should consider him an aider and abettor in putting this +kind of entertainment before the public—this galled him to the quick. +The murmur of the Aivron and the Geinig seemed dinning in his ears. If +only he could have thrown aside these senseless trappings—if he were an +under-keeper now, or a water-bailiff, or even a gillie looking after the +dogs and the ponies, he could have met the gaze of those clear hazel +eyes without shame. But here he was the coadjutor of this grimacing +clown; and she was sitting in her box there—and thinking.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Leo?" said Nina, coming up to him rather timidly. "You are +annoyed."</p> + +<p>"I have made a mistake, that is all," he said, rather impatiently. "I +shouldn't have persuaded those two ladies to come to the theatre; I +forgot what kind of thing we played in; I might as well have asked them +to go to a penny gaff. Collier is worse than ever to-night."</p> + +<p>"And you better, Leo," said Nina, who had always comforting words for +him. "Did you not hear how enthusiastic the audience were? And if this +is the young lady you told me of—who was so friendly in Scotland that +she did not fear ridicule for herself in order to save you from the +possibility of ridicule—surely she will be so well-wishing to you that +she will understand you have nothing to do with the foolishness on the +stage."</p> + +<p>"If you are thinking of that salmon-fishing incident," he said, rather +hastily, "of course you mustn't imagine there was any fear of <i>her</i> +encountering any ridicule. Oh, certainly not. It was no new thing for +her to get wet when she was out fishing—"</p> + +<p>"At all events, it was a friendly act to you," said Nina, on whom that +occurrence seemed to have made some impression. "And if she is so +generous, so benevolent towards you, do you think she will not see you +are not responsible for the comic business?"<!-- Page 251 --><span class="pagenum">{251}</span></p> + +<p>It was at the end of the penultimate act that an attendant brought round +Miss Cunyngham and her mother—the latter a handsome and +distinguished-looking elderly lady, with white hair done up <i>a la Marie +Antoinette</i>—behind the scenes; and Nina, hanging some way back, could +see them being presented to Miss Burgoyne. Nina was a little breathless +and bewildered. She had heard a good deal about the fisher-maiden in the +far North, of her hardy out-of-door life, and her rough and serviceable +costume; and perhaps she had formed some mental picture of her—very +different from the actual appearance of this tall young Englishwoman, +whose clear, calm eyes, strongly marked eyebrows, and proud, refined +features were so striking. Here was no simple maiden in a suit of serge, +but a young woman of commanding presence, whose long cloak of +tan-colored velvet, with its hanging sleeves showing a flash of crimson, +seemed to Nina to have a sort of royal magnificence about it. And yet +her manner appeared to be very simple and gentle; she smiled as she +talked to Miss Burgoyne; and the last that Nina saw of her—as they all +left together in the direction of the corridor, Lionel obsequiously +attending them—was that the tall young lady walked with a most gracious +carriage. Nina made sure that they had all disappeared before she, too, +went down the steps; then she made her way to her own room, to get ready +for the final act. Miss Girond, of course, was also here; but Nina had +no word for Estelle; she seemed preoccupied about something.</p> + +<p>Never had Harry Thornhill dressed so quickly; and when, in his gay +costume of flowered silk and ruffles, tied wig and buckled shoes, he +tapped at Miss Burgoyne's door and entered, he found that this young +lady was still in the curtained apartment, though she had sent out Jane +to see that her two visitors were being looked after. Lionel, too, +helped himself to some tea; and it was with a singular feeling of relief +that he discovered, as he presently did, that both Lady Cunyngham and +her daughter were quite charmed with the piece, so far as they had seen +it. They appeared to put the farcicality altogether aside, and to have +been much impressed by the character of the music.</p> + +<p>"What a pretty girl that Miss Ross is!" said the younger of the two +ladies, incidentally. "But she is not English, is she? I thought I +could detect a trace of foreign accent here and there."</p> + +<p>"No, she is Italian," Lionel made answer. "Her name is<!-- Page 252 --><span class="pagenum">{252}</span> really +Rossi—Antonia Rossi—but her intimate friends call her Nina."</p> + +<p>"What a beautiful voice she has!" Miss Honnor continued. "So fresh and +pure and sweet. I think she has a far more beautiful voice than—"</p> + +<p>He quickly held up his hand, and the hint was taken.</p> + +<p>"And she puts such life into her part—she seems to be really +light-hearted and merry," resumed Miss Honnor, who appeared to have been +much taken by Nina's manner on the stage. "Do you know, Mr. Moore, I +could not help to-night thinking more than once of "The Chaplet" and my +sisters and their amateur friends. The difference between an amateur +performance and a performance of trained artists is so marvellous; it +doesn't seem to me to be one of degree at all; at an amateur +performance, however clever it may be, I am conscious all the time that +the people are assuming something quite foreign to themselves, whereas +on the stage the people seem to be the actual characters they profess to +be. I forget they are actors and actresses—"</p> + +<p>"You must be a good audience, Miss Cunyngham," said he (it used to be +"Miss Honnor" in Strathaivron, but that was some time ago—<i>then</i> he was +not decked out and painted for exhibition on the stage).</p> + +<p>"Oh, I like to believe," she said. "I don't wish to criticise. I wholly +and delightfully give myself up to the illusion. Mother and I go so +seldom to the theatre that we are under no temptation to begin and ask +how this or that is done, or to make any comparisons; we surrender +ourselves to the story, and believe the people to be real people all we +can. As for mother, if it weren't a dreadful secret—"</p> + +<p>But here the curtains were thrown wide, and out came Miss Burgoyne, +obviously conscious of her magnificent costume, profuse in her apologies +for not appearing sooner. Something had gone wrong, and the mishap had +kept her late; indeed, she had just time to go through the formality of +taking a cup of tea with her guests when she was called and had to get +ready to go.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf252" id="illusf252"></a> +<img src="images/illusf252.jpg" alt=""And Nina, hanging some way back, could see them being +presented to Miss Burgoyne."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>And Nina, hanging some way back, could see them being +presented to Miss Burgoyne.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"However, I need not say good-bye just yet," she said to them, as she +tucked up her voluminous train. "Wouldn't you like to look on for a +little while from the wings? You could have the prompter's chair, Lady +Cunyngham, so that you could <!-- Page 253 --><span class="pagenum">{253}</span>see the audience or the stage, just as +you chose, if Miss Cunyngham wouldn't mind standing about among the +gasmen."</p> + +<p>"If you are sure we shall not be in the way," said the elder lady, who +had, perhaps, a little more curiosity than her daughter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Moore will show you," said Miss Burgoyne, making no scruple +about preceding her visitors along the corridor and up the steps, for +she had not too much time.</p> + +<p>The prompter's office, now that this piece had been running over four +hundred nights, was practically a sinecure, so that there was no trouble +about getting Lady Cunyngham installed in the little corner, whence, +through a small aperture, she could regard the dusky-hued audience or +turn her attention to the stage just as she pleased. Miss Honnor stood +close by her, when she was allowed—keeping out of sight of the opposite +boxes as much as she could, though she observed that the workmen about +her did not care much whether they were visible or not, and that they +talked or called to one another with a fine indifference towards what +was going forward on the stage. At present a minuet was being danced, +and very pretty it was; she could not help noticing how cleverly Miss +Burgoyne managed her train. As for her mother, the old lady seemed +intensely interested and yet conscious all the time that she herself, in +this strange position, was an interloper; again and again she rose and +offered to resign her place to the rather shabby-looking elderly man who +was the rightful occupant; but he just as often begged her to remain—he +seemed mostly interested in the management of the gas-handles just over +his head.</p> + +<p>And now came in the comic interlude which Lionel had feared most of +all—the squire's faithful henchman going through all the phases of +getting drunk in double-quick stage-time; and, while those stupidities +were going forward, Lionel and Miss Burgoyne were supposed to retire up +the stage somewhat and look on. Well, they took up their +positions—Grace Mainwaring being seated.</p> + +<p>"Your giraffe is rather handsome," she said, behind her fan.</p> + +<p>"I believe she is considered to be one of the best-looking women in +England," said he, somewhat stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, really! Well, of course, tastes differ," Miss Grace Mainwaring +said. "I don't think a woman should have blacking-brushes instead of +eyebrows. But it's a matter of taste."<!-- Page 254 --><span class="pagenum">{254}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "and comic opera is the sort of place where one's taste +becomes so refined. What do you think of this gag now? Is this what the +public like—when they come to hear music?"</p> + +<p>"You're very fastidious—you want everything to be super-fine—but you +may depend on it that it keeps the piece going with the pit and +gallery."</p> + +<p>His answer to that was one of this young lady's strangest experiences of +the stage: Lionel Moore had suddenly left her, and, indeed, quitted this +scene, in which he was supposed to be a chief figure. He walked down the +wings until he found himself close to Miss Honnor Cunyngham.</p> + +<p>"Miss Cunyngham," he said.</p> + +<p>She turned—her eyes somewhat bewildered by the glare of light on the +stage.</p> + +<p>"Come back, please," he said. "I don't want you to see this scene—it +has nothing to do with the operetta—and it is dull and stupid and +tedious beyond description."</p> + +<p>She followed him two or three steps, wondering.</p> + +<p>"You say you like the music," he continued, here in the twilight of the +wings, "and the little story is really rather pretty and idyllic; but +they <i>will</i> go and introduce a lot of music-hall stuff to please the +groundlings. I should prefer you not to see it. Won't you rather wait a +little, and talk about something?—it isn't often you and I meet. Did +you get many salmon after I left Strathaivron?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said she, still rather surprised. "Towards the end of the +season the red fish are really not worth landing."</p> + +<p>"It seems a long time since then," he said. "I find myself sitting up at +night and thinking over all those experiences—making pictures of +them—and the hours go by in a most astonishing fashion. Here in London, +among the November fogs, it seems so strange to think of those splendid +days and the long, clear twilights. I suppose it is all so well known to +you, you do not trouble to recall it; but I do—it is like a dream—only +that I see everything so distinctly—I seem almost to be able to touch +each leaf of the bushes in the little dell where we used to have +luncheon; do you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Above the Geinig Pool?—oh, yes!" she said, smiling.</p> + +<p>"And the Junction Pool," he continued, with a curious eagerness,<!-- Page 255 --><span class="pagenum">{255}</span> as if +he were claiming her sympathy, her interest, on account of that old +companionship—"I can make the clearest vision of it as I sit up all by +myself at night—you remember the little bush on the opposite side that +you used sometimes to catch your fly on, and the shelf of shingle going +suddenly down into the brown water—I always thought that was a +dangerous place. And how well you used to fish the Rock Pool! Old Robert +used to be so proud of you! Once, at the tail of the Rock Pool, you +wound up, and said to him, 'Well, I can't do any better than that, +Robert;' and then he said, 'No man ever fished that pool better—oh, I +beg your pardon, Miss Honnor; no one at all ever fished that pool +better.' I suppose Strathaivron is nothing to you—you must be so +familiar with it—but to me it is a sort of wonderland, to dream of when +I am all by myself at night—"</p> + +<p>Alas! it was at this very moment that Nina came up from her room; Clara, +the innkeeper's daughter, had to go on immediately after the ball-room +scene was over. And Nina, as she came by, caught sight of these two, and +for a moment she stood still, her eyes staring. The two figures were in +a sort of twilight—a twilight as compared with the glare of the stage +beyond them, but there were lights here quite sufficient to illumine +their features; it was no imagination on Nina's part—she saw with a +startling clearness that Lionel was regarding this tall, English-looking +girl with a look she had never seen him direct towards any woman +before—a timid, wistful, half-beseeching look that needed no words to +explain its meaning. For a second Nina stood there, paralyzed—not +daring to breathe—not able to move. Yet was it altogether a revelation +to her, or only a sudden and overwhelming confirmation of certain +half-frightened misgivings which had visited her from time to time, and +which she had striven hard to banish? The next moment Nina had passed on +silently, like a ghost, and had disappeared in the dusk behind some +scenery.</p> + +<p>"When shall you be back in Strathaivron, Miss Honnor?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In the spring, I suppose, for the salmon-fishing," she made answer.</p> + +<p>"You will be up there in the clear April days, by the side of that +beautiful river, and I shall be playing the mountebank here, among the +London gas and fog."<!-- Page 256 --><span class="pagenum">{256}</span></p> + +<p>But at this moment the orchestra began the slow music that intimated the +resumption of the minuet, and this recalled him to his senses; he had +hurriedly to take leave of her, and then he went and rejoined Miss +Burgoyne, who merely said, "Well, that's a pretty trick!" as she gave +him her hand for the dance.</p> + +<p>A still stranger thing, however, happened in the next scene, where the +gay young officer, the French prisoner of war, makes love to the +innkeeper's daughter. Estelle noticed with great surprise that not only +did Nina deliver the English maiden's retorts without any of the saucy +spirit that the situation demanded, but also that she was quite confused +about the words, stammering and hesitating, and getting through them in +the most perfunctory manner. At last, when the little Capitaine Crépin +says, "Bewitching maid, say you will fly with me!" Clara's reply is, +"You forget I am to be married to-morrow—see, here comes my betrothed;" +but Nina only got as far as "married to-morrow"—then she +paused—hesitated—she put her hand to her head as if everything had +gone from her brain—and at the same moment Estelle, with the most +admirable presence of mind, continued, "See, here comes your betrothed," +thus giving the lover his cue. The dialogue now remained with Estelle +and this husband-elect, so that Nina had time to recover; and in the +trio that closes the scene she sang her part well enough. Directly they +had left the stage, Estelle ran to her friend.</p> + +<p>"Nina, what was the matter?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"My head—" said Nina, pressing her hand against her forehead and +talking rather faintly—"I do not know—my head is giddy, Estelle—oh, I +wish it was all over!—I wish I was home!"</p> + +<p>"You have very little more to do now, Nina!" Estelle said quickly to +her, in French. "Come, you must have courage, Nina—I will run and get +you my smelling-salts, and it will pass away—oh, you must make an +effort, Nina—would you let Miss Burgoyne see you break down—no, no, +indeed! You will be all right, Nina, I assure you—and I will tell the +prompter to be on the watch for you—oh, I wouldn't give way—before +Miss Burgoyne—if I were you, no, not for a hundred pounds!"</p> + +<p>Therewith the kind-hearted little French officer sped away to her own +room, and brought back the smelling-salts and was most<!-- Page 257 --><span class="pagenum">{257}</span> eagerly +solicitous that Nina should conquer this passing attack of hysteria, as +she deemed it. And, indeed, Nina managed to get through the rest of her +part without any serious breakdown, to Estelle's exceeding joy.</p> + +<p>As they went home together in the four-wheeled cab, Nina did not utter a +word. Once or twice Estelle fancied she heard a slight sob; but she +merely said to herself,</p> + +<p>"Ah, it has come back, that trembling of the nerves? But I will make her +take some wine at supper, and she will go to bed and sleep well; +to-morrow she will have forgotten all about it."</p> + +<p>And Estelle was most kind and considerate when they got down to Sloane +Street. She helped Nina off with her things; she stirred up the fire; +she put a bottle of white wine on the table, where supper was already +laid; she drew in Nina's chair for her. Then Mrs. Grey came up, to see +that her children, as she called them, were all right; and she was +easily induced to stay for a little while, for a retired actress is +always eager to hear news of the theatre; so she and Miss Girond fell to +talking between themselves. Nina sat silent; her eyes seemed heavy and +tired; she only pretended to touch the food and wine before her.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, Nina," her friend said, when Mrs. Grey had gone, "if +you will have nothing to eat or to drink, you must go to bed and see +what a sound night's rest will do for you. I am going to sit up a little +while to read, but I shall not disturb you."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, then, Estelle," said Nina, rather languidly; "you have been +so kind to me!"</p> + +<p>They kissed each other; then Nina opened the folding-doors, and +disappeared into her own room, while Estelle took up her book. It was +"Les Vacances de Camille" she had got hold of; but she did not turn the +pages quickly; there was something else in her mind. She was thinking of +Nina. She was troubled about her, in a vague kind of way. She had never +seen Nina look like that before, and she was puzzled and a little +concerned.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in this hushed stillness, she heard, or fancied she heard, a +slight sound that startled her; it came from the adjoining room. +Stealthily she arose and approached the door; she put her ear close and +listened; yes, she had not been mistaken—Nina<!-- Page 258 --><span class="pagenum">{258}</span> was sobbing bitterly. +Estelle did not hesitate a moment; she boldly opened the door and went +in; and the first thing she beheld was Nina, just as she had left the +other room, now lying prone on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, +while in vain she tried to control the violence of her grief.</p> + +<p>"Nina!" she cried, in alarm.</p> + +<p>Nina sprang up—she thrust out both trembling hands, as if wildly +seeking for help, and Estelle was not slow to seize them.</p> + +<p>"Nina, what is it?" she exclaimed, frightened by the haggard face and +streaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Estelle!—Estelle!" said Nina, in a low voice that simply tore the +heart of this faithful friend of hers. "It is nothing! It is +only that my life is broken—my life is broken—and I have no +mother—<i>Poverina!</i>—she would have said to me—"</p> + +<p>Her sobs choked her speech; she withdrew her trembling hands; she threw +herself again on the bed, face downward, and burst into a wild fit of +weeping. Estelle knew not what to do; she was terrified.</p> + +<p>"Nina, what has happened?" she cried again.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing!—it is nothing!—it is nothing!" she said, between her +passionate sobs. "I have made a mistake; I am punished—O God, can you +not kill me!—I do not wish to live—"</p> + +<p>"Nina!" said Estelle, and the girl bent down and put her cheek close to +her friend's, and she tenderly placed both her hands on the masses of +beautiful blue-black hair. "Nina—tell me!"</p> + +<p>In time the violent sobbing ceased, or partially ceased; Nina rose, but +she clung to Estelle's hand and kissed it passionately.</p> + +<p>"You have been so kind, so affectionate to me, Estelle! To-morrow you +will know—perhaps. I will leave you a letter. I am going away. If you +forget me—well, that is right; if you do not forget me, do not think +bad of—of poor Nina!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean, Nina," said Estelle, who was herself +whimpering by this time; "but I won't let you go away. No, I will not. +You do not know what you say. It is madness—to-morrow morning you will +reflect—to-morrow morning you will tell me, and rely on me as a +friend."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow morning all will be right, Estelle," Nina said, again +kissing the hand that she clung to. "Pardon me that I<!-- Page 259 --><span class="pagenum">{259}</span> have kept you +up—and disturbed you. Go away to your bed, Estelle—to-morrow morning +all will be right!"</p> + +<p>Very reluctantly Estelle was at length persuaded to leave; and as she +left she turned off the gas in the sitting-room. A few minutes +thereafter Nina, still dressed as she had come home from the theatre, +entered the room, re-lit the gas, and noiselessly proceeded to clear a +portion of the table, on which she placed writing materials. Then she +went into her bedroom and fetched a little drawer in which she kept her +valuables; and the first thing she did was to take out an old-fashioned +gold ring she had brought with her from Naples. She put the ring in an +envelope, and (while her eyelids were still heavy with tears, and her +cheeks wan and worn) she wrote outside—"<i>For Estelle</i>."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h4>AN AWAKENING.</h4> + + +<p>London is a dreary-looking city on a Sunday morning, especially on a +Sunday morning in November; people seem to know how tedious the hours +are going to be, and lie in bed as long as they decently can; the +teeming and swarming capital of the world looks as if it had suddenly +grown lifeless. When Lionel got up, there was a sort of yellow darkness +in the air; hardly a single human being was visible in the Green Park +over the way; a solitary saunterer, hands deep in the pockets of his +overcoat, who wandered idly along the neglected pavement, had the +appearance of having been out all night, and of not knowing what to do +with himself, now that what passed for daylight had come. All of a +sudden there flashed into the brain of this young man standing by the +French window a yearning to get away from this dark and dismal +town—there came before him a vision of clear air, of wind-swept waves, +with an after-church promenade of fashionable folk in which he might +recognize the welcome face of many a friend. He looked at his watch; +there was yet time; he would hurry through his breakfast and catch the +10.45 to Brighton.</p> + +<p>But was there nothing else prompting this unpremeditated resolve to get +away down to Victoria station? Not some secret<!-- Page 260 --><span class="pagenum">{260}</span> hope that he might +perchance descry Lady Cunyngham and her daughter among the crowd +swarming on to the long platform? They had not definitely told him at +the theatre that they were returning the next morning; but was it not +just possible—or, rather, extremely probable? And surely he might +presume on their mutual acquaintance so far as to get into the same +railway-carriage and have some casual chatting with them on the way +down? He had been as attentive as possible to them on the previous +evening; and they had seemed pleased. And he had tried to arouse in Miss +Honnor's mind some recollection of the closer relationship which had +existed between her and him in the solitudes of far Strathaivron.</p> + +<p>When he did arrive at Victoria station he found the people pouring in in +shoals; for now was the very height of the Brighton season; besides +which there were plenty of Londoners glad to escape, if only for a day, +from the perpetual fog and gloom. And yet, curiously enough, although +the carriages were being rapidly filled, he took no trouble about +securing a seat. After he had gone down the whole length of the train, +he turned, and kept watching the new arrivals as they came through the +distant gate. The time for departure was imminent; but he did not seem +anxious about getting to Brighton. And at last his patience, or his +obstinacy, was rewarded; he saw two figures—away along there—that he +instantly recognized; even at a greater distance he could have told that +one of these was Honnor Cunyngham, for who else in all England walked +like that? The two ladies were unattended by either man or maid; and as +they came along they seemed rather concerned at the crowded condition of +the train. Lionel walked quickly forward to meet them. There was no time +for the expression of surprise on their part—only for the briefest +greeting.</p> + +<p>"I must try to get you seats," said he, "but the train appears to be +very full, and the guards are at their wits' end. I say!" he called to a +porter. "Look here; this train is crammed, and the people are pouring in +yet; what are they going to do?"</p> + +<p>"There's a relief train, sir," said the porter, indicating a long row of +empty carriages just across the platform.</p> + +<p>"You are sure those are going?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then we can get in now?"<!-- Page 261 --><span class="pagenum">{261}</span></p> + +<p>The man looked doubtful; but Lionel soon settled that matter by taking +the two ladies along to a Pullman car, where the conductor at once +allowed them to pass. It is true that as soon as the public outside +perceived that these empty carriages were also going, they took +possession without more ado; but in the meantime Lionel and his two +companions had had their choice of places, so that they were seated +together when the train started.</p> + +<p>"It was most fortunate we met you," Lady Cunyngham said, bending very +friendly eyes on the young man. "I do so hate a crowded train; it +happens so seldom in travelling in England that one is not used to it. +Are you going down to Brighton for any time, Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Honnor Cunyngham, almost reproachfully, "you forget what +Mr. Moore's engagements are."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, with a smile, "it is rather a cruel question. My +glimpses of the sea and sky are few and far between. The heavens that I +usually find over my head are made of canvas; and the country scenes I +wander through are run on wheels."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think," said Miss Honnor to him (and it seemed so +cheerful to be away from the London gloom and out here in the clearer +air; to find himself sitting so near this young lady, able to regard her +dress, listening to her voice, sometimes venturing to meet the +straightforward glance of her calm eyes—all this was a wondrous and +marvellous thing)—"don't you think you enjoy getting away from town all +the more keenly? I shall never forget you in Strathaivron; <i>you</i> were +never bored like some of the other gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Each and every day was one to be marked by a white stone," he said, +with an earnestness hardly befitting railway-carriage conversation.</p> + +<p>"The wet ones, too?" she asked, pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Wet or dry, what was the difference?" he made bold to say. "What did I +care about the rain if I could go down to the Aivron or away up to the +Geinig with you and old Robert?"</p> + +<p>"You certainly were very brave about it," she said, in the most friendly +way; "you never once grumbled when the sandwiches got damp—not once."</p> + +<p>And so the three of them kept gayly and carelessly talking and chatting +together, as the long train thundered away to the south; while ever and +anon they could turn their eyes to that<!-- Page 262 --><span class="pagenum">{262}</span> changing phantasmagoria of the +outer world that went whirling by the windows. It was rather a +wild-looking day, sometimes brightening with a wan glare of sunlight, +but more often darkening until the country looked like a French +landscape, in its sombre tones of gray and black and green. Yet, +nevertheless, there was a sort of picturesqueness in the brooding sky, +the russet woods, the purple hedges, and the new-ploughed furrows; while +now and again a distant mansion, set on a height, shone a fair yellow +above its terraced lawn. Scattered rooks swept down the wind and settled +in a field. The moorhens had forsaken the ruffled water of the ponds and +sought shelter among the withered sedge. Puffs of white steam from the +engine flew across and were lost in the leafless trees. Embankments +suddenly showed themselves high in the air, and as suddenly dipped +again; then there were long stretches of coppice, with red bracken, and +a sprinkling of gold on the oaks. To Lionel the time went by all too +quickly; before he had said the half of what he wanted to say, behold! +here they were at Preston Park.</p> + +<p>"You are at least remaining over until to-morrow?" Lady Cunyngham asked +him.</p> + +<p>"Well, no," said he, "I did not think of coming down until this morning, +and so I had made no arrangements. I should think it hardly likely there +would be a vacant bedroom at the Orleans Club at this time of year—no, +in any case, I must get back by the 8.40 to-night."</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime," she asked again, "have you any engagement?"</p> + +<p>"None. I dare say I shall have a stroll along the sea-front, and then +drop in for lunch at the Orleans."</p> + +<p>"You might as well come down now and lunch with us," said she, simply.</p> + +<p>Lionel's face brightened up amazingly; he had been looking forward to +saying good-bye at the station with anything but joy.</p> + +<p>"I should be delighted—if I am not in the way," was his prompt answer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Honnor and I are entirely by ourselves at present," said this +elderly lady with the silver-white hair. "We are expecting Lady Adela +and her sisters this week, however; and perhaps my son will come down +later on."</p> + +<p>"Are they back from Scotland?"<!-- Page 263 --><span class="pagenum">{263}</span></p> + +<p>"They arrive to-morrow, I believe."</p> + +<p>"And Lady Adela's novel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know anything about that," said she, with a good-humored +smile. "Surely she can't have written another novel already!"</p> + +<p>When they got into the station, a footman was awaiting them, but they +had no bags or baggage of any description; they walked a little way +along the platform and entered the carriage; presently they were driving +away down to the sea-front. What Honnor Cunyngham thought of the +arrangement, it is impossible to say, but the invitation was none of her +giving: no doubt it was merely a little compliment in acknowledgment of +Mr. Moore's kindness of the preceding night. However, when the barouche +pulled up in front of a house in Adelaide Crescent, Mr. Moore had his +own proposal to make.</p> + +<p>"It seems so pleasant down there," said he, looking towards the wide +stretches of greensward and the promenade along the sea-wall, where the +people, just come out of church, were strolling to and fro; "every one +appears to be out—don't you think we should have a little walk before +going in?"</p> + +<p>Honnor Cunyngham said nothing; it was her mother who at once and +good-naturedly assented; and when they had descended from the carriage +they forthwith made their way down to mix in this idle throng. It was +quite a bright and pleasant morning here—a stiff southwesterly breeze +blowing—a considerably heavy sea thundering in and springing with jets +of white spray into the air—the sunlight shining along the yellow +houses of Brunswick Terrace, where there were cheerful bits of green +here and there in the balconies. Then the crowd was rather more gayly +dressed than an English crowd usually is; for women allow themselves a +little more latitude in the way of color during the Brighton season, and +on such a morning there was ample excuse for a display of sunshades. And +was it merely a wish to breathe the fresh-blowing wind and to listen to +the hissing withdrawal and recurrent roar of the waves that had induced +Lionel to ask his two companions to join in this slow march up and down? +Young men have their little vanities and weaknesses, like other folk. +Rumor had on more than one occasion coupled his name with that of some +fair damsel; what if he were to say now, "Well, if you will talk, here +is one worth talking about."<!-- Page 264 --><span class="pagenum">{264}</span> He was conscious on this shining morning +that Miss Cunyngham—the more beautiful daughter of a beautiful +mother—was looking superb; he remembered what Miss Georgie had said +about Honnor's proud and graceful carriage. He knew a good many of the +people in this slow-moving assemblage; and he was not sorry they should +see him talking to this tall and handsome young Englishwoman—who also +appeared to have a numerous acquaintanceship.</p> + +<p>"Why, you seem to know everybody, Mr. Moore?" she said to him, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"You would think all London was here this morning—it's really +astonishing!" he made answer.</p> + +<p>Occasionally they stopped to have a chat with more particular friends; +and then Lionel would remain a little bit aside; though once or twice +Lady Cunyngham chose to introduce him, and that pleased him, he hardly +knew why. But at last she said,</p> + +<p>"Well, I think we must be getting home. Properly speaking we have no +right to be in the prayer-book brigade at all, for we have not been to +church this morning."</p> + +<p>Not unlikely the squire of these two ladies was rather loath to leave +this gay assemblage; but he was speedily consoled, for, to his +inexpressible joy, he found, when they got in-doors, that there was no +one else coming to lunch—these three were to be quite by themselves. +And of what did they not talk during this careless, protracted, idling +meal? Curiously enough, it was Nina, not Miss Burgoyne, who appeared to +have chiefly impressed the two visitors on the preceding evening; and +when Lady Cunyngham discovered that she was an old companion and +fellow-student of Lionel's, she was much interested, and would have him +tell her all about his experiences in Naples. And again Miss Honnor +recurred to the difference between amateur and professional acting, that +seemed to have struck her so forcibly the previous night.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf264" id="illusf264"></a> +<img src="images/illusf264.jpg" alt=""'Why, you seem to know everybody, Mr. Moore!' she said +to him, with a smile."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>'Why, you seem to know everybody, Mr. Moore!' she said +to him, with a smile.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Moore," said she, "you must have an astonishing amount of +good-nature and tolerance. If I had complete command of any art, and saw +a band of amateurs attempting something in it and not even conscious of +their own amateurishness, I don't know whether I should be more inclined +to laugh or to be angry. I used to be amused, up there in Strathaivron, +<!-- Page 265 --><span class="pagenum">{265}</span>with the confidence Georgie Lestrange showed in singing a duet with +you—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but Miss Lestrange sings very well," said he. "And, you know, if +Lady Adela and her sisters perform a piece like "The Chaplet"—well, +that is a Watteau-like sort of thing—Sèvres china—force or passion of +any kind isn't wanted—it's all artificial, and confessedly so. And +then, when the professional actor finds himself acting with amateurs, I +dare say he modifies himself a little—"</p> + +<p>"Becomes an amateur, in short," she said.</p> + +<p>"In a measure. Otherwise he would be a regular bull in a china shop. And +surely, when you get a number of people in a remote place like +Strathaivron, the efforts of amateurs to amuse them should be encouraged +and approved. I thought it was very unselfish of them—very kind—though +they generally succeeded in sending Lord Fareborough to bed. By the way, +Miss Cunyngham, did Lord Fareborough ever get a stag?"</p> + +<p>For it was observable that this young man, whenever he got the chance, +was anxious to lead away the conversation from the theatre and all +things pertaining thereunto, and would rather talk about Strathaivron +and salmon-fishing and Miss Honnor's plans with regard to the coming +year.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she said, "he never went out but that once, and then he nearly +killed himself, according to his own account. We never quite knew what +happened; there was some dark mystery that Roderick wouldn't explain; +and, you know, Lord Fareborough himself is rather short-tempered. He +ought not to have gone out—a man who has imagined himself into that +hypochondriacal state. However, it has given him an excuse for thinking +himself a greater invalid than ever; and he has got it into his head now +that we all of us persuaded him to try a day's stalking—a conspiracy, +as it were, to murder him. There was some accident at one of the fords, +I believe. He came home early. I never heard of his having fired at a +stag at all." And then she added, with a smile. "Mr. Moore, what made +you send me such a lot of salmon-flies?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," he said, "I thought you ought to have a good stock." How +could he tell her of his vague hope that the Jock Scotts and Blue +Doctors might serve for a long time to recall him to her memory?<!-- Page 266 --><span class="pagenum">{266}</span></p> + +<p>"I suppose you have got the stag's head by now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed; and tremendously proud of it I am," he responded, +eagerly. "You know I should never have gone deer-stalking but for you. I +made sure I was going to make a fool of myself—"</p> + +<p>"I remember you were rather sensitive, or anxious not to miss, perhaps," +she said, in a very gentle way. "I thought of it again last night, when +I saw you so completely master in your own sphere—so much at home—with +everything at your command—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, very much at home," he answered her, with just a touch of +bitterness. "Perhaps it is easy to be at home—in harlequinade—though +you may not quite like it." And then once more he refused to talk of the +theatre. "I am going to send old Robert some tobacco at Christmas," said +he.</p> + +<p>"I heard of what you did already in that way," she said, smiling. "Do +you know that you may spoil a place by your extravagance? I should think +all the keepers and gillies in Strathaivron were blessing your name at +this very moment."</p> + +<p>"And you go up in the spring, you said?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is the real fishing-time. My brother Hugh and I have it all +to ourselves then; Lady Adela and the rest of them prefer London."</p> + +<p>And then it was almost in his heart to cry out to her, "May not I, too, +go up there, if but for a single week—for six clear-shining days in the +springtime?" Ben More, Suilven, Canisp—oh, to see them once again!—and +the windy skies, and Geinig thundering down its rocky chasm, and Aivron +singing its morning song along the golden gravel of its shoals! what did +he want with any theatre?—with the harlequinade in which he was losing +his life? Could he not escape? Euston station was not so far away—and +Invershin? It seemed to him as though he had already shaken himself +free—that a gladder pulsation filled his veins—that he was breathing a +sweeter air. The white April days shone all around him; the silver and +purple clouds went flying overhead; here he was by the deep, brown pools +again, with the gray rocks and the overhanging birch-woods and the long +shallows filling all the world with that soft, continuous murmur. As for +his singing?—oh, yes, he could sing—he could sing, if needs were,<!-- Page 267 --><span class="pagenum">{267}</span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"O lang may his lady-love</div> +<div class="versei1">Look frae the Castle Doune,</div> +<div class="verse">Ere she see the Earl o' Moray</div> +<div class="versei1">Come sounding through the toun"—</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="noind">but there is no gaslight here—there are no painted faces—he has not to +look on at the antics of a clown, with shame and confusion in his +heart—</p> + +<p>The wild fancy was suddenly snapped in twain; Lady Cunyngham rose; the +two younger people did likewise.</p> + +<p>"Now, I know you gentlemen like a cigar or cigarette after luncheon," +she said to Lionel, "and we are going to leave you quite by +yourself—you will find us in the drawing-room when you please."</p> + +<p>Of course he would not hear of such a proposal; he opened the door for +them, and followed them up-stairs; what were cigars or cigarettes to him +when he had such a chance of listening to Honnor Cunyngham's low, +modulated voice, or watching for a smile in the calmly observant hazel +eyes? Indeed, in the drawing-room, as Miss Honnor showed him a large +collection of Assiout ware which had been sent her by an English officer +in Egypt (by what right or title, Lionel swiftly asked himself, had any +English officer made bold to send Miss Cunyngham a hamperful of these +red-clay idiotcies?), this solitary guest had again and again to remind +himself that he must not outstay his welcome. And yet they seemed to +find a great deal to talk about; and the elder of the two ladies was +exceedingly kind to him; and there was a singular fascination in his +finding himself entirely <i>en famille</i> with them. But alas! Even if he or +they had chosen to forget, the early dusk of the November afternoon was +a sufficient warning; the windows told him he had to go. And go he did +at last. He bade them good-bye; with some friendly words still dwelling +in his ears he made his way down the dim stairs and had the door opened +for him; then he found himself in this now empty and hopeless town of +Brighton, that seemed given over to the low, multitudinous murmur of +that wide waste of waves.</p> + +<p>He did not go along to the Orleans Club; his heart and brain were too +busy to permit of his meeting chance acquaintances. He walked away +towards Shoreham till a smart shower made him turn. When he got back to +the town the lamps were lit,<!-- Page 268 --><span class="pagenum">{268}</span> throwing long, golden reflections on the +wet asphalt, but the rain had ceased; so he continued to pace absently +along through this blue twilight, hardly noticing the occasional dark +figures that passed. What was the reason, then, of this vague +unrest—this unknown longing—this dissatisfaction and almost despair? +Had he not been more fortunate than he could have hoped for? He had met +Miss Honnor and her mother in the morning, and had been with them all +the way down; they had been most kind to him; he had spent the best part +of the day with them; they had parted excellent friends; looking back, +he could not recall a single word he would have liked unsaid. Then a +happy fancy struck him: the moment he got up to town he would go and +seek out Maurice Mangan. There was a wholesome quality in Mangan's +saturnine contempt for the non-essential things of life; Mangan's clear +penetration, his covert sympathy, his scorn or mock-melancholy, would +help him to get rid of these vapors.</p> + +<p>When Lionel returned to town a little after ten o'clock that night he +walked along to Mangan's rooms in Victoria Street, and found his friend +sitting in front of the fire alone.</p> + +<p>"Glad you've looked in, Linn."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't seem to be busy, old chap; who ever saw you before +without a book or a pipe?"</p> + +<p>"I've been musing, and dreaming dreams, and wishing I was a poet," said +this tall, thin, languid-looking man, whose abnormally keen gray eyes +were now grown a little absent. "It's only a fancy, you know—perhaps +something could be made of it by a fellow who could rhyme—"</p> + +<p>"But what is it?" Lionel interposed.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the other, still idly staring into the fire before him, "I +think I would call it 'The Cry of the Violets'—the violets that are +sold in bunches at the head of the Haymarket at midnight. Don't you +fancy there might be something in it—if you think of where they come +from—the woods and copses, children playing, and all that—and of what +they've come to—the gas-glare and drunken laughter and jeers. I would +make them tell their own story—I would make them cry to Heaven for +swift death and oblivion before the last degradation of being pinned on +to the flaunting dress." And then again he said: "No, I don't suppose +there's any thing in it; but I'll tell you what made me think of it. +This morning, as we were coming<!-- Page 269 --><span class="pagenum">{269}</span> back from Winstead church—you know how +extraordinarily mild it has been of late, and the lane going down to the +church is very well sheltered—I found a couple of violets in at the +roots of the hedge—within a few inches of each other, indeed—and I +gave them to Miss Francie, and she put them in her prayer-book and +carried them home. I thought the violets would not object to that, if +they only knew."</p> + +<p>"So you went down to Winstead this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And how are the old people?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well."</p> + +<p>"And Francie?"</p> + +<p>"Very busy—and very happy, I think. If she doesn't deserve to be, who +does?" he continued, rousing himself somewhat from his absent manner. "I +suppose, now, there is no absolutely faultless woman; and yet I +sometimes think it would puzzle the most fastidious critic of human +nature to point out any one particular in which Miss Francie could be +finer than she is; I think it would. It is not my business to find +fault; I don't want to find fault; but I have often thought over Miss +Francie—her occupations, her theories, her personal disposition, even +her dress—and I've wondered where the improvement was to be suggested. +You see, she might be a very good woman, and yet have no sense of humor; +she might be very charitable, and also a little vainglorious about it; +she might have very exalted ideas of duty, and be a trifle hard on those +who did not come up to her standards; but in Miss Francie's case these +qualifications haven't to be put in at all. She always seems to me to be +doing the right thing, and just in the right way—with a kind of fine +touch that has no namby-pambiness about it. Oh, she can be firm, too; +she can scold them well enough, those children—when she doesn't laugh +and pat them on the shoulder the minute after."</p> + +<p>"This is, indeed, something, as coming from you, Maurice!" Lionel +exclaimed. "Has it been left for you to discover an absolutely perfect +human being?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't for you to find fault with her, anyway," the other said, +rather sharply. "She's fond enough of you."</p> + +<p>"Who said I was finding fault with her?—not likely I am going to find +fault with Francie!" Lionel replied, with sufficient<!-- Page 270 --><span class="pagenum">{270}</span> good-humor. "Well, +now that you have discovered an absolutely faultless creature, you might +come to the help of another who is only too conscious that he has plenty +of faults, and who is so dissatisfied with himself and his surroundings +that he is about sick of life altogether."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the light tone in which he introduced the subject, +Mangan looked up quickly, and regarded the younger man with those +penetrating gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been to-day, Linn?"</p> + +<p>"Brighton."</p> + +<p>"Among the dukes and duchesses again? Ah, you needn't be angry—I +respect as much as anybody those whom God has placed over us—I haven't +forgotten my catechism—I can order myself lowly and reverently to all +my betters. But tell me what the matter is. You sick of life?—I wonder +what the gay world of London would think of that!"</p> + +<p>And therewithal Lionel, in a somewhat rambling and incoherent fashion, +told his friend of a good many things that had happened to him of +late—of his vague aspirations and dissatisfactions—of Miss Cunyngham's +visit to the theatre, and his disgust over the music-hall clowning—of +his going down to Brighton that day, and his wish to stand on some other +footing with those friends of his—winding up by asking, to Mangan's +surprise, how long it would take to study for the bar and get called, +and whether his training—the confidence acquired on the stage—might +not help in addressing a jury.</p> + +<p>"So the idol has got tired of being worshipped," Mangan said, at last. +"It is an odd thing. I wonder how many thousands of people there are in +London—not merely shop-girls—who consider you the most fortunate +person alive—in whose imagination you loom larger than any saint or +soldier, any priest or statesman, of our own time. And I wonder what +they would say if they knew you were thinking of voluntarily abdicating +so proud and enviable a position. Well, well!—and the reason for this +sacrifice? Of course, you know it is a not uncommon thing for women to +give up their carriages and luxuries and fine living, and go into a +retreat, where they have to sweep out cells, and even keep strict +silence for a week at a time, which, I suppose, is a more difficult +business. The reason in their case is clear enough; they are driven to +all that by their spiritual needs;<!-- Page 271 --><span class="pagenum">{271}</span> they want to have their souls washed +clean by penance and self-denial. But you," he continued, in no +unfriendly mood, but with his usual uncompromising sincerity, "whence +comes your renunciation? It is simply that a woman has turned your head. +You want to find yourself on the same plane with her; you want to be +socially her equal; and to do that you think you should throw off those +theatrical trappings. You see, my dear Linn, if I have remembered my +catechism, you have not; you have forgotten that you must learn and +labor truly to get your own living, and do your duty in that state of +life unto which it has pleased God to call you. You want to change your +state of life; you want to become a barrister. What would happen? The +chances are entirely against your being able to earn your own living—at +least for years; but what is far more certain is that your fashionable +friends—whose positions and occupations you admire—would care nothing +more about you. You are interesting to them now because you are a +favorite of the public, because you play the chief part at the New +Theatre. What would you be as a briefless barrister? Who would provide +you with salmon-fishing and deer-stalking then? If you aspired to marry +one of those dames of high degree, what would be your claims and +qualifications? You say you would almost rather be a gillie in charge of +dogs and ponies. A gillie in charge of dogs and ponies doesn't enjoy +many conversations with his young mistress; and if he made bold to +demand any closer alliance Pauline would pretty soon have that Claude +kicked off the premises—and serve him right. If you had come to me and +said, 'I am too well off; I am being spoiled and petted to death; the +simplicity and dignity of life is being wholly lost in all this +fashionable flattery, this public notoriety and applause; and to recover +myself a little—as a kind of purification—I am going to put aside my +trappings; I will go and work as a hod-carrier for three months or six +months; I will live on the plainest fare; I will bear patiently the +cursing the master of the gang will undoubtedly hurl at me; I will sleep +on a straw mattress'—then I could have understood that. But what is it +you renounce?—and why? You think you would recommend yourself better to +your swell friends if you dropped the theatre altogether—"</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to hire a hall?" said Lionel, gloomily.<!-- Page 272 --><span class="pagenum">{272}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, nobody likes being preached at less than I do myself," Mangan said, +with perfect equanimity, "but you see I think I ought to tell you, when +you ask me, how I regard the situation. And, mind you, there is +something very heroic—very impracticably heroic, but magnanimous all +the same—in your idea that you might abandon all the popularity and +position you have won as a mere matter of sentiment. Of course you won't +do it. You couldn't bring yourself to become a mere nobody—as would +happen if you went into chambers and began reading up law-books. And you +wouldn't be any nearer to salmon-fishing and deer-forests that way, or +to the people who possess these by birth and inheritance. The trouble +with you, Linn, my boy, as with most of us, is that you weren't born in +the purple. It is quite true that if you were called to the bar you +could properly claim the title of esquire, and you would find yourself +not further down than the hundred and fiftieth or hundred and sixtieth +section in the tables of precedence; but if you went with this +qualification to those fine friends of yours, they would admit its +validity, and let you know at the same time you were no longer +interesting to them. Harry Thornhill, of the New Theatre, has a free +passport everywhere; Mr. Lionel Moore, of the Middle Temple, wouldn't be +wanted anywhere."</p> + +<p>"You are very worldly-wise to-night, Maurice."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see you make a sacrifice that wouldn't bring you what +you expect to gain by it," Mangan said. "But, as I say, you won't make +any such sacrifice. You have had your brain turned by a pretty pair of +eyes—perhaps by an elegant figure—and you have been troubled and +dissatisfied and dreaming dreams."</p> + +<p>"If that is your conclusion and summing-up of the whole matter," Lionel +said, with studied indifference, "perhaps you will offer me a drink, and +I'll have a cigarette, and we can talk about something on which we are +likely to agree."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I beg your pardon," Mangan said, with a laugh; and he went and +brought forth what modest stores he had, and he was quite willing that +the conversation should flow into another channel.</p> + +<p>And little did Lionel know that at this very moment there was something +awaiting him at his own rooms that would (far more effectually than any +reasoning and plain speaking) banish from<!-- Page 273 --><span class="pagenum">{273}</span> his mind, for the moment at +least, all those restless aspirations and vague regrets. When eventually +he arrived in Piccadilly and went up-stairs, he was not expecting any +letters, this being Sunday; and as there was on the table only a small +parcel, he would probably have left that unheeded till the morning (no +doubt it was a pair of worked slippers, or a couple of ivory-backed +brushes, or something of the kind) but that in passing he happened to +glance at the note on the top of it, and he observed that the +handwriting was foreign. He took it up carelessly and opened it; his +carelessness soon vanished. The message was from Mlle. Girond, and it +was in French:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="sc">Dear Mr. Moore</span>,—To-day Mrs. Grey and I have called twice at your + apartments, but in vain, and now I leave this letter for you. It is + frightful, what has happened. Nina has gone, no one knows where; we + can hear nothing of her. This morning when I came down to her room + she was gone; there was a letter for me, one for Mr. Lehmann, one + for Miss Constance, asking her to be ready to sing to-morrow night, + another for Mrs. Grey, with money for the apartments until the end + of the month, and also there was this little packet for you. In her + letter to me she asks me to see them all delivered. During the + night she must have made these arrangements; in the morning she is + gone! I am in despair; I know not what to do. Will you have the + goodness to come down to-morrow as soon as possible?</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="sc">Estelle</span>."</p> + +</div> + +<p>And then mechanically he drew a chair to the table, and sat down and +pulled the small package towards him; perhaps the contents might help to +explain this extraordinary thing that had occurred. But the moment that +he took the lid off the pasteboard box he was more bewildered than ever; +for the first glimpse told him that Nina had returned to him all the +little presents he had made to her in careless moments.</p> + +<p>"Nina!" he said, under his voice, in a tone of indignant reproach.</p> + +<p>Yes, here was every one of them, from the enclasped loving-cup to the +chance trinkets he had purchased for her just as they happened to +attract his eye. He took them all out; there was no letter, no message +of any kind. And then he asked himself, almost angrily, what sort of mad +freak was this. Had the wayward and petulant Nina—forgetting all the +suave and gracious demeanor she had been teaching herself since she came +to England—had she run away in a fit of temper, breaking her engagement +at the theatre, and causing alarm and anxiety to her friends,<!-- Page 274 --><span class="pagenum">{274}</span> all about +nothing? For he and she had not quarrelled in any way whatsoever, as far +as he knew. One fancy, at least, never occurred to him—or, if it +occurred to him, it was dismissed in a moment—that Nina might have had +a secret lover; that she had honestly wished to return these presents +before making an elopement. It was quite possible that Nicolo Ciana, if +he had heard of Nina's success in England, might have pursued her, and +sought to marry so very eligible a helpmeet; but if the young man with +the greasy hair and the sham jewelry and the falsetto voice had really +come to England, Lionel knew who would have been the first to bid him +return to his native shores and his <i>zuccherelli</i>. Had not Nina +indignantly denied that he had ever dared to address her as "Nenna mia," +or that his perpetual "Antoniella, Antonià," in any way referred to her? +No; Lionel did not think that Nicolo Ciana had much to do with Nina's +disappearance.</p> + +<p>And then, as he regarded this little box of useless jewelry, another +wild guess flashed through his brain, leaving him somewhat breathless, +almost frightened. Was it possible that Nina had mistaken these gifts +for love-gifts, had discovered her mistake, and, in a fit of wounded +pride, had flung them back and fled forever from this England that had +deceived her? He was not vain enough to think there could be anything +more serious, that Nina might be breaking her heart over what had +happened to her; but it was quite enough if he had unconsciously led her +to believe that he was paying her attentions. He looked at that +loving-cup with some pricking of conscience; he had to confess that such +a gift was capable of misconstruction. It had never occurred to him that +she might regard it as some kind of mute declaration—as a pledge of +affection between him and her that necessitated no clearer +understanding. He had seen the two tiny goblets in a window; he had been +taken by the pretty silver-gilt ornamentation; he had been interested in +the old-fashioned custom; and he had lightly imagined that Nina would be +pleased—that was all. And now that he thought of it, he had to confess +that he had been indiscreet. It is true he had given Nina those presents +from time to time in a careless and haphazard fashion that ought not to +have been misunderstood—only, as he had to remind himself, Nina must +have perceived that he did not give similar presents to Miss Burgoyne, +or Estelle Girond,<!-- Page 275 --><span class="pagenum">{275}</span> or anybody else in the theatre. And was Nina now +thinking that he had treated her badly?—Nina, who had been always his +sympathizing friend, his gentle adviser, and kind companion. Was there +any one in the world that he less wished to harm? He supposed she must +have been angry when she returned these jewels and gew-gaws; clearly she +was too proud to send him any other message. And now she would be away +somewhere, where he could not get hold of her to pet her into a +reconciliation again; no doubt there was some hurt feeling of injury in +her heart—perhaps she was even crying.</p> + +<p>"Poor Nina!" he said to himself, little dreaming of the true state of +affairs. "I hope it isn't so? but if it is so, here have I, through mere +thoughtlessness, wounded her pride, and, what is more, interfered with +her professional career. I suppose she'll go right away back to old +Pandiani; and they'll be precious glad to get her now at Malta, after +her success in England. Perhaps some day we shall hear of her coming +over here again, as a famous star in grand opera; that will be her +revenge. But I never thought Nina would want to be revenged on me."</p> + +<p>And yet he was uneasy; there was something in all this he did not +understand. He began to long for the coming of the next day, that he +might go away down to Sloane Street and hear what Miss Girond had to +tell him. Why, for example, he asked himself, had Nina taken this step +so abruptly—so entirely without warning? How and when had she made the +discovery that she had mistaken the intention of those friendly little +acts of kindness and his constant association with her? Then he tried to +remember on what terms he had last parted from her. It was at the +theatre, as he patiently summoned up each circumstance. It was at the +theatre, on the preceding night. She had come to him in the wings, +observing that he looked rather vexed, and she had given him comforting +and cheerful words, as was her wont. Surely there was no anger in her +mind against him then. But thereafter? Well, he had seen no more of +Nina. When Miss Cunyngham had come behind the scenes, he had forgotten +all about Nina. And then suddenly he remembered that he must have been +standing close by the prompter's box, absorbed in talking to Miss +Cunyngham, when Nina would have to come up to go on the stage. Had she +passed them? Had she suspected? Had she, in her proud and petted way, +resented<!-- Page 276 --><span class="pagenum">{276}</span> this intimacy, and resolved to throw back to him the harmless +little gifts he had bestowed on her? Poor Nina! she had always been so +wilful—so easily pleased, so easily offended—but of late he had rather +forgotten that, for she had been bearing herself with what she regarded +as an English manner; and indeed their friendship had been so constant +and unvarying, so kind and considerate on both sides, that there had +been no opportunity for the half-vexed, half-laughing quarrels of +earlier days. He would seek out this spoiled child (he said to himself) +and scold her into being good again. And yet, even as he tried to +persuade himself that all would still be well, he could not help +recalling the fierce vehemence with which Nina had repudiated the +suggestion that perhaps she might let some one else drink out of this +hapless loving-cup that now lay before him. "I would rather have it +dashed to pieces and thrown into the sea!" she had said, with pale face +and quivering lips and eyes bordering on tears. He remembered that he +had been a little surprised at the time—not thinking what it all might +mean.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h4>A CRISIS.</h4> + + +<p>When he went down to Sloane Street in the morning, he found Estelle +eagerly awaiting him. She received him in Nina's small parlor; Mrs. Grey +had just gone out. A glance round the room did not show him any +difference, except that a row of photographs (of himself, mostly, in +various costumes) had disappeared from the mantelshelf.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is all this about?" he said, somewhat abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, do not blame me too quick!" Estelle said, with tears springing to +her clear blue eyes. "Perhaps I am to blame—perhaps when I see her in +such trouble on Saturday night, I should entreat her to tell me why; but +I said, 'To-night I will not worry her more; to-morrow morning I will +talk to her; we will go for a long walk together? Nina will tell me all +her sorrow.' Then the morning comes, and she is gone away; what can I +do? Twice I go to your apartment—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not blaming you at all, Miss Girond," he said, at<!-- Page 277 --><span class="pagenum">{277}</span> once and +quite gently. "If anybody is to blame, I suppose it's myself, for I +appear to have quarrelled with Nina without knowing it. Of course you +understood that that packet you left yesterday contained the various +little presents I have given her from time to time—worthless bits of +things—but all the same her sending them back shows that Nina has some +ground of offence. I'm very sorry; if I could only get hold of her I +would try to reason with her; but she was always sensitive and proud and +impulsive like that. And then to run away because of some fancied +slight—"</p> + +<p>Estelle interrupted him with a little gesture of impatience, almost of +despair.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are wrong, you are wrong," she said. "It is far more serious +than that. It is no little quarrel. It is a pain that stabs to the +heart—that kills. You will see Nina never again to make up a little +quarrel. She has taken her grief away with her. I myself, when I first +saw her troubled at the theatre, I also made a mistake—I thought she +was hysteric—"</p> + +<p>"At the theatre?" said he, with some sudden recalling of his own +surmise.</p> + +<p>"You did not regard her, perhaps, towards the end of her part, on +Saturday night?" said Estelle. "I thought once she would fall on the +stage. On the way home I think she was crying—I did not look. Then she +is in this room—oh, so silent and miserable—as one in despair, until I +persuade her to go to sleep until the morning, when she would tell me +her sorrow. Then I was reading; I heard something; I went to the door +there—it was Nina crying, oh, so bitterly; and when I ran to her, she +was wild with her grief. 'My life is broken, Estelle, my life is +broken!' she said—"</p> + +<p>But here Estelle herself began to sob, and could not get on with her +story at all; she rose from her chair and began to pace up and down.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you—it was terrible—"</p> + +<p>And terrible it was for him, too, to have this revelation made to him. +Now he knew it was no little quarrel that had sent Nina away; it was +something far more tragic than that; it was the sudden blighting of a +life's hopes.</p> + +<p>"Estelle," said he, quite forgetting, "you spoke of a letter she had +left for you; will you show it to me?"<!-- Page 278 --><span class="pagenum">{278}</span></p> + +<p>She took it from her pocket and handed it to him. There was no sign of +haste or agitation in these pages; Nina's small and accurate handwriting +was as neat and precise as ever; she even seemed to have been careful of +her English, as she was leaving this her last message, in the dead +watches of the night:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="sc">Dear Estelle</span>" [Nina wrote],—"Forgive me for the trouble I cause + you; but I know you will do what I ask, for the sake of our + friendship of past days. I leave a letter for Mr. Lehmann, and one + for Miss Constance, and a packet for Mr. Moore; will you please + have them all sent as soon as possible? I hope Mr. Lehmann will + forgive me for any embarrassment, but Miss Constance is quite + perfect in the part, and if she gets the letter to-day it will be + the longer notice. I enclose a ring for you, Estelle; if you wear + it, you will sometimes think of Nina. For it is true what I said to + you when you came into my room to-night—I go away in the morning. + I have made a terrible mistake, an illusion, a folly, and, now that + my eyes are opened, I will try to bear the consequences as I can; + but I could not go on the stage as well; it would be too bad a + punishment; I could not, Estelle. I must go, and forget—it is so + easy to say forget! I go away without feeling injured towards any + one; it was my own fault, no one was in fault but me. And if I have + done wrong to any one, or appear ungrateful, I am sorry; I did not + wish it. Again I ask you to say to Mr. Lehmann, who has been so + kind to me in the theatre, that I hope he will forgive me the + trouble I cause; but I <i>could not</i> go on with my part just now.</p> + +<p> "Shall I ever see you again, Estelle? It is sad, but I think not; + it is not so easy to forget as to write it. Perhaps some day I send + you a line—no, perhaps some day I send you a message; but you will + not know where I am; and if you are my friend you will not seek to + know. Adieu, Estelle! I hope you will always be happy, as you are + good; but even in your happiest days you will sometimes give a + thought to poor Nina."</p></div> + +<p>He sat there looking at the letter, long after he had finished reading +it; there was nothing of the petulance of a spoiled child in this +simple, this heartbroken farewell. And Nina herself was in every phrase +of it—in her anxiety not to be a trouble to any one—her gratitude for +very small kindnesses—her wish to live in the gentle remembrance of her +friends.</p> + +<p>"But why did no one stop her?—why did no one remonstrate?" he asked, in +a sort of stupefaction.</p> + +<p>"Who could, then?" said Mlle. Girond, returning to her seat and clasping +her hands in front of her. "As soon as the housemaid appears in the +morning, Nina asks her to come into the room; the money is put into an +envelope for Mrs. Grey; the not great luggage is taken quiet down the +stair, so that no one is<!-- Page 279 --><span class="pagenum">{279}</span> disturbed. Everything is arranged; you know +Nina was always so—so business-like—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the fool of a housemaid should have called Mrs. Grey!" he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"But why, Mr. Moore?" Estelle continued. "She only thought that Nina was +so considerate—no one to be awakened—and then a cab is called, and +Nina goes away—"</p> + +<p>"And of course the housemaid didn't hear what direction was given to the +cabman!"</p> + +<p>"No; it is a misfortune," said Estelle, with a sigh. "It is a +misfortune, but she is not so much in fault. She did not conjecture—she +thought Nina was going to catch an early train—that she did not wish to +disturb any one. All was in order; all natural, simple; no one can blame +her. And so poor Nina disappears—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, disappears into the world of London, or into the larger world, +without friends, without money—had she any money, Miss Girond?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes!" Estelle exclaimed. "You did not know? Ah, she was so +particular; always exact in her economies, and sometimes I laughed at +her; but always she said perhaps some day she would have to play the +part of the—the—benevolent fairy to some poor one, and she must save +up—"</p> + +<p>"Had she a bank account?"</p> + +<p>Estelle nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"Then she could not have got the money yesterday, if she wished to +withdraw it; she must have been in London this morning!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Estelle. "But then! Look at the letter. She says if I am +her friend, I will not seek to know where she is."</p> + +<p>"But that does not apply to me," he retorted—while his brain was filled +with all kinds of wild guesses as to whither Nina had fled.</p> + +<p>"You are not her friend?" Estelle said, quietly.</p> + +<p>"If I could only see her for three minutes!" he said, in his despair, as +he rose and went to the window. "Why should she go away from her friends +if she is in trouble? Besides ourselves and the people in the theatre, +she knows no one in this country. If she goes away back to her +acquaintances in Italy,<!-- Page 280 --><span class="pagenum">{280}</span> she will not say a word; she will have no +sympathy, no distraction of any kind; and all the success she has gained +here will be as good as lost. It is like Nina to say she blames no one; +but her sending me back those bits of jewelry tells me who is to +blame—"</p> + +<p>Estelle hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Can I say?" she said, in rather low tones, and her eyes were cast down. +"Is it not breaking confidence? But Nina was speaking of you—she took +me into the shop in Piccadilly to show me the beautiful gold cup—and +when I said to her, 'It is another present soon—it is a wedding-ring +soon he will give you—'"</p> + +<p>"Then it is you who have been putting those fancies into her head!" he +said, turning to her.</p> + +<p>"I? Not I!" answered Estelle, with a quick indignation. "It is you! Ah, +perhaps you did not think—perhaps you are accustomed to have every +ones—to have every one—give homage to the great singer—you amuse the +time—what do you care? I put such things into her head? No!—not at +all! But you! You give her a wishing-cup—what is the wish? You come +here often—you are very kind to her—oh, yes, very kind, and Nina is +grateful for kindness—you sing with her—what do you call them?—songs +of love. Ah, yes, the <i>chansons amoureuses</i> are very beautiful—very +charming—but sometimes they break hearts."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I had no idea of anything of the kind," he said—for to be +rated by the little boy-officer was a new experience. "But I am going to +try to find Nina—whatever you may choose to do."</p> + +<p>"I respect her wish," said Mlle. Girond, somewhat stiffly. However, the +next moment she had changed her mood. "Mr. Moore, if you were to find +her, what then?" she asked, rather timidly.</p> + +<p>"I should bring her back to her friends," he answered, simply enough.</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"I should want to see her as happy and contented as she used to be—the +Nina we used to know. I should want to get her back to the theatre, +where she was succeeding so well. She liked her work; she was interested +in it; and you know she<!-- Page 281 --><span class="pagenum">{281}</span> was becoming quite a favorite with the public. +Come, Miss Girond," he said, "you needn't be angry with me; that won't +do any good. I see now I have been very thoughtless and careless; I +ought not to have given her that loving-cup; I ought not to have given +her any of those trinkets, I suppose. But it never occurred to me at the +time; I fancied she would be pleased at the moment, that was all."</p> + +<p>"And you did not reflect, then," said Estelle, regarding him for a +second, "what it was that may have brought Nina to England at the +beginning?—no?—what made her wish to play at the New Theatre? Ah, a +man is so blind!"</p> + +<p>"Brought Nina to England?" he repeated, rather bewildered.</p> + +<p>"But these are only my conjectures," she said, quickly. "No, I have no +secrets to tell. I ask myself what brings Nina to England, to the New +Theatre, to the companionship with her old friend—I ask myself that, +and I see. But you—perhaps it is not your fault that you are blind; you +have so many ladies seeking for favor you have no time to think of this +one or that, or you are grown indifferent, it may be. Poor Nina! she +that was always so proud, too; it is herself that has struck herself; a +deep wound to her pride; that is why she goes away, and she will never +come back. No, Mr. Moore, she will never come back. I asked you what you +would do if you were to find her—it is useless. She will never come +back; she is too proud."</p> + +<p>Estelle looked at her watch.</p> + +<p>"Soon I must go in to the theatre. There was a note from Mr. Lehmann +this morning; he wishes me to go over some parts with Miss Constance, to +make sure."</p> + +<p>"What hour have you to be there?" he said, taking up his hat.</p> + +<p>"Half-past eleven."</p> + +<p>"I will walk in with you, if you like," he said; "there will be time. +And I want to see that Lehmann isn't put to any inconvenience; for, you +know, I introduced Nina to the New Theatre."</p> + +<p>On their way into town Estelle was thoughtful and silent; while Lionel +kept looking far ahead, as if he expected to descry Nina coming round +some street-corner or in some passing cab. But at last his companion +said to him,</p> + +<p>"You had no quarrel, then, with Nina, on the Saturday night?"<!-- Page 282 --><span class="pagenum">{282}</span></p> + +<p>"None. On the contrary, the last time she spoke to me was in the most +kindly way," he said.</p> + +<p>"Then why does she resolve to send you back those presents?" Estelle +asked. "Why is it she knows all at once that her life is broken? You +have no conjecture at all?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, with a little hesitation, "it is a difficult thing to +speak of. If Nina were looking forward as you think—if she mistook the +intention of those trinkets I gave her—well, you know, there was a +young lady and her mother, two friends of mine, who came to the theatre +on Saturday night, and I dare say Nina passed while I was talking to the +young lady in the wings—and—and Nina may have imagined something. I +can only guess—it is possible—"</p> + +<p>"Now I know," said Estelle, rather sadly. "Poor Nina! And still you +think she would come back if you could find her? Her pride makes her fly +from you; and you think you would persuade her? Never, never! She will +not come back—she would drown herself first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk like that!" he said, with frowning brows; and both +relapsed into silence and their own thoughts.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lehmann did not seem much put about by this defection on the part of +one of his principal singers.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity," he said to Lionel. "She had a fresh voice; she was +improving in her stage-business; and the public liked her. What on earth +made her go off like this?"</p> + +<p>"She left no explanation with me," Lionel said, honestly enough. "But in +her letter to Miss Girond she hopes you won't be put to any +inconvenience. By the way, if Miss Ross owes you any forfeit, I'll +settle that up with you."</p> + +<p>"No, there's no forfeit in her agreement; it wasn't considered +necessary," the manager made answer. "Of course I am assuming that it's +all fair and square; that she hasn't gone off to take a better +engagement—"</p> + +<p>"You needn't be afraid of that," Lionel said, briefly; and, as Miss +Constance here made her appearance, he withdrew from the empty stage, +and presently had left the building.</p> + +<p>He thought he would walk up to the Restaurant Gianuzzi in Rupert Street, +and make inquiries there. But he was not very hopeful. For one thing, if +Nina were desirous of concealment or of getting free away, she would not +go to a place where, as he<!-- Page 283 --><span class="pagenum">{283}</span> knew, she had lodged before; for another, he +had disapproved of her living there all by herself, and Nina never +forgot even his least expression of opinion. When he asked at the +restaurant if a young lady had called there on the previous day to +engage a room, he was answered that they had no young-lady visitor of +any kind in the house; he was hardly disappointed.</p> + +<p>But as he walked along and up Regent Street (here were the +well-remembered shops that Nina and he used to glance into as they +passed idly on, talking sometimes, sometimes silent, but very well +content in each other's society) he began to ask himself whether in +truth he ought to seek out Nina and try to intercept her flight, even if +that were yet possible. Estelle's questions were significant. What would +he do, supposing he could induce Nina to come back? At present, he +vaguely wished to restore the old situation—to have Nina again among +her friends, happy in her work at the theatre, ready to go out for a +stroll with him if the morning were fine, he wanted his old comrade, who +was always so wise and prudent and cheerful, whom he could always please +by sending her down a new song, a new waltz, an Italian illustrated +journal, or some similar little token of remembrance. But if Estelle's +theory were the true one, <i>that</i> Nina was gone forever, never to return; +her place was vacant now, never to be refilled; and somewhere or +other—perhaps hidden in London, perhaps on her way back to her native +land—there was a woman, proud, silent, and tearless, her heart +quivering from the blow that he had unintentionally dealt. How could he +face <i>that</i> Nina? What humble explanations and apologies could he offer? +To ask her to come back would of itself be an insult. Her wrongs were +her defence? she was sacred from intrusion, from expostulation and +entreaty.</p> + +<p>At the theatre that evening he let the public fare as it liked, so far +as his part in the performance was concerned. He got through his duties +mechanically. The stage lacked interest; the wings were empty; the long, +glazed corridor conveyed a mute reproach. As for the new Clara, Miss +Constance did fairly well; she had not much of a voice, but she was as +bold as brass, and her "cheek" seemed to be approved by the audience. At +one point Estelle came up to him.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a change for no Nina to be in the theatre? But there is one +that is glad—oh, very glad! Miss Burgoyne rejoices!"—and<!-- Page 284 --><span class="pagenum">{284}</span> Estelle, as +she passed on, made use of a phrase in French, which, perhaps +fortunately, he did not understand.</p> + +<p>After the performance, he went up to the Garden Club—he did not care to +go home to his own rooms and sit thinking. And the first person he saw +after he passed into the long coffee-room was Octavius Quirk, who was +seated all by himself devouring a Gargantuan supper.</p> + +<p>"This is luck," Lionel said to himself. "Maurice's Jabberwock will begin +with his blatherskite nonsense—it will be something to pass the time."</p> + +<p>But on the contrary, as it turned out, the short, fat man with the +unwholesome complexion was not at this moment in the humor for frothy +and windy invective about nothing; perhaps the abundant supper had +mollified him; he was quite suave.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Moore," said he, "haven't seen you since you came back from +Scotland. It was awfully kind of Lady Adela to send me a haunch of +venison."</p> + +<p>"It would serve you for one meal, I suppose," Lionel thought; he did not +say so.</p> + +<p>"I dine with them to-morrow night," continued Mr. Quirk, complacently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed," said Lionel? Lady Adela seemed rather in a hurry, +immediately on her return to town, to secure her tame critic.</p> + +<p>"Very good dinners they give you up there at Campden Hill," +Mr. Quirk resumed, as he took out a big cigar from his case. +"Excellent—excellent—and the people very well chosen, too, if it +weren't for that loathsome brute, Quincey Hooper. Why do they tolerate a +fellow like that—the meanest lick-spittle and boot-blacker to any +Englishman who has got a handle to his name, while all the time he is +writing in his wretched Philadelphia rag every girding thing he can +think of against England. Comparison, comparison, continually—and far +more venomous than the foolish, feeble sort of stuff which is only +Anglophobia and water; and yet Hooper hasn't the courage to speak out +either—it's a morbid envy of England that is afraid to declare itself +openly and can only deal in hints and innuendoes. What can Lady Adela +see in a fellow like that? Of course he writes puffing paragraphs about +her and sends them to her; but what good are they to her, coming from +America? She wants to be<!-- Page 285 --><span class="pagenum">{285}</span> recognized as a clever woman by her own set. +She appeals to the <i>dii majorum gentium</i>; what does she care for the +verdict of Washington or Philadelphia or New York?"</p> + +<p>Well, Lionel had no opinion to express on this point; on a previous +occasion he had wondered why these two augurs had not been content to +agree, seeing that the wide Atlantic rolled between their respective +spheres of operation.</p> + +<p>"I have been favored," resumed Mr. Quirk, more blandly, "with a sight of +some portions of Lady Adela's new novel."</p> + +<p>"Already?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't nearly finished yet; but she has had the earlier chapters +set up in type, so that she could submit them to—to her particular +friends, in fact. You haven't seen them?" asked Mr. Quirk, lifting his +heavy and boiled-gooseberry eyes and looking at Lionel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," was the answer. "My judgment is of no use to her; she is aware +of that. I hope you were pleased with what you saw of it. Her last novel +was not quite so successful as they had hoped, was it?"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow!" Mr. Quirk exclaimed, in astonishment (for he could not +have the power of the log-rollers called in question). "Not successful? +Most successful!—most successful! I don't know that it produced so much +money—but what is that to people in their sphere?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not much," said Lionel, timidly (for what did he know about +such esoteric matters?). "I suppose the money they might get from a +novel would be of little consideration—but it would show that the book +had been read."</p> + +<p>"And what, again, do they care for vulgar popularity?—the approbation +of the common herd—of the bovine-headed multitude? No, no, it is the +verdict of the polished world they seek—it is fame—<i>éclat</i>—it is +recognition from their peers. It may be only <i>un succès d'estime</i>—all +the more honorable! And I must say Lady Adela is a very clever woman; +the pains she takes to get 'Kathleen's Sweethearts' mentioned even now +are wonderful. Indeed, I propose to give her an additional hint or two +to-morrow. Of course you know —— is doomed?" asked Mr. Quirk, naming a +famous statesman who was then very seriously ill.</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Gout at the heart; hopeless complications; he<!-- Page 286 --><span class="pagenum">{286}</span> can't possibly +last another ten days. Very well," continued Mr. Quirk, with much +satisfaction, as if Providence were working hand in hand with him, "I +mean to advise Lady Adela to send him a copy of 'Kathleen's +Sweethearts.' Now do you understand? No? Why, man, if there's any luck, +when he dies and all the memoirs come out in the newspapers, it will be +mentioned that the last book the deceased statesman tried to read was +Lady Adela Cunyngham's well-known novel. Do you see? Good business? Then +there's another thing she must absolutely do with her new book. These +woman-suffrage people are splendid howlers and spouters; let her go in +for woman-suffrage thick and thin—and she'll get quoted on a hundred +dozen of platforms. That's the way to do it, you know! Bless you, the +publishers' advertisements are no good at all nowadays!"</p> + +<p>Lionel was not paying very much heed; perhaps that was why he rather +indifferently asked Mr. Quirk whether he himself was in favor of +extending the suffrage to women.</p> + +<p>"I?" cried Mr. Quirk, with a boisterous horse-laugh. "What do I care +about it? Let them suffer away as much as ever they like!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they're used to that, aren't they?" said Lionel.</p> + +<p>"What I want to do is to put Lady Adela up to a dodge or two for getting +her book talked about; that's the important and immediate point, and I +think I can be of some service to her," said Mr. Quirk? and then he +added, more pompously, "I think she is willing to place herself entirely +in my hands."</p> + +<p>Happily at this moment there came into the room two or three young +gentlemen, intent upon supper and subsequent cards, who took possession +of the farther end of the table; and Lionel was glad to get up and join +the new-comers, for he felt he could not eat in the immediate +neighborhood of this ill-favored person. He had his poached eggs and a +pint of hock in the company of these new friends; and, after having for +some time listened to their ingenuous talk—which was chiefly a +laudation of Miss Nellie Farren—he lit a cigarette and set out for +home.</p> + +<p>So it was Octavius Quirk who was now established as Lady Adela's +favorite? It was he who was shown the first sheets of the new novel; it +was he who was asked to dinner immediately on the return of the family +from Scotland; it was he who was<!-- Page 287 --><span class="pagenum">{287}</span> to be Lady Adela's chief counsellor +throughout the next appeal to the British public? And perhaps he advised +Lady Sybil, also, about the best way to get her musical compositions +talked of; and might not one expect to find, in some minor exhibition, a +portrait of Octavius Quirk, Esq., by Lady Rosamund Bourne? It seemed a +gruesome kind of thing to think of these three beautiful women paying +court to that lank-haired, puffy, bilious-looking baboon. He wondered +what Miss Georgie Lestrange thought of it; Miss Georgie had humorous +eyes that could say a good deal. And Lord Rockminster—how did Lord +Rockminster manage to tolerate this uncouth creature?—was his +good-natured devotion to his three accomplished sisters equal even to +that?</p> + +<p>Lionel did not proceed to ask himself why he had grown suddenly jealous +of a man whom he himself had introduced to Lady Adela Cunyngham. Yet the +reason was not far to seek. Before his visit to Scotland, it would have +mattered little to him if any one of his lady friends—or any half dozen +of them, for the matter of that—had appeared inclined to put some other +favorite in his place; for he had an abundant acquaintance in the +fashionable world; and, indeed, had grown somewhat callous to their +polite attentions. But Lady Adela and her two sisters were relations of +Honnor Cunyngham; they were going down to Brighton this very week; he +was anxious (though hardly knowing why) to stand well in their opinion +and be of importance in their eyes. As he now walked home he thought he +would go and call on Lady Adela the following afternoon; if she were +going down to that house in Adelaide Crescent, there would be plenty of +talk among the women-folk; his name might be mentioned.</p> + +<p>Next morning there was no further word of Nina. When he had got his +fencing over, he went along to Sloane Street, but hardly with any +expectation of news. No, Estelle had nothing to tell him; Nina had gone +away—and wished to remain undiscovered.</p> + +<p>"Poor Nina!" said Estelle, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>Somewhat early in the afternoon he went up to Campden Hill. Lady Adela +was at home. He noticed that the man-servant who ushered him into the +drawing-room was very slow and circumspect about it, as if he wished to +give ample warning to<!-- Page 288 --><span class="pagenum">{288}</span> those within; and, indeed, just as he had come +into the hall, he had fancied he heard a faint shriek, which startled +him not a little. When he now entered the room he found Miss Georgie +Lestrange standing in the middle of the floor, while Lady Adela was +seated at a small writing-table a little way off. They both greeted him +in the most friendly fashion; and then Miss Georgie (a little +embarrassed, as he imagined) went towards the French window and looked +out into the wintry garden.</p> + +<p>"You have come most opportunely, Mr. Moore," said Lady Adela, in her +pleasant way. "I'm sure you'll be able to tell us: how high would a +woman naturally throw her arms on coming suddenly on a dead body?"</p> + +<p>He was somewhat staggered.</p> + +<p>"I—I'm sure I don't know."</p> + +<p>"You see, Georgie has been so awfully kind to me this morning," Lady +Adela continued. "I have arrived at some very dramatic scenes in my new +story, and she has been good enough to act as my model; I want to have +everything as vivid as possible; and why shouldn't a writer have a model +as well as a painter; I hope to have all the attitudes strictly +correct—to describe even the tone of her shriek when she comes upon the +dead body of her brother. Imagination first, then actuality of detail; +Rose tells me that Mr. Mellord, after he has finished a portrait, won't +put in a blade of grass or a roseleaf without having it before him. If +there's to be a crust of bread on the table, he must have the crust of +bread."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but Mr. Moore," said Miss Georgie, coming suddenly back from the +window—and she was blushing furiously, up to the roots of her pretty +golden-red hair, and covertly laughing at the same time, "my difficulty +is that I try to do my best as the woman who unexpectedly sees her dead +brother before her; but I've got nothing to come and go on. I never saw +a dead body in my life; and it would hardly do to try it with a real +dead body—"</p> + +<p>"Georgie, don't be horrid!" Lady Adela said, severely. "Here is Mr. +Moore, who can tell you how high the hands should be held, and whether +they should be clenched or open."</p> + +<p>"Well, Lady Adela," he said, in his confusion (for he was in mortal +terror lest she should ask him to get up and posture before her), "the +fact is that on the stage there are so many ways<!-- Page 289 --><span class="pagenum">{289}</span> of expressing fear or +dismay that no two people would probably adopt the same gestures. Would +you have her hands above her head? Wouldn't it be more natural for her +to have them about the height of her shoulders—the elbows drawn tightly +back—her palms uplifted as if to shut away the terrible sight?—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" said Lady Adela, eagerly; and she quickly scribbled some +notes on the paper before her. "The very thing!—the very thing!"</p> + +<p>"But don't you think," he ventured to say, "that that would look rather +mechanical—rather stagey, in fact? I know nothing about writing; but I +should think you would want to deal mostly with the expression of the +woman's face—"</p> + +<p>"I want to have it all!" the anxious authoress exclaimed. "I want to +have attitudes—gestures—everything; to make the picture vivid. I must +have the actual tone of her shriek—"</p> + +<p>"Which Mr. Moore heard as he came in," Miss Georgie said, as a kind of +challenge.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I thought I heard a slight cry," he admitted, gravely.</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much, Mr. Moore," said Lady Adela, with her most charming +smile, as she began to fold up her notes. "The little piece of realism +you have suggested will come in admirably; and I think I've done enough +for to-day—thanks to Georgie here, who has just been an angel of +patience."</p> + +<p>Tea followed, and some idle talk, during which Lionel learned that Lady +Adela and her sisters were going down to Brighton the following day. He +incidentally mentioned Octavius Quirk's name; whereupon his hostess, who +was a sharp and a shrewd woman when she was not dabbling in literature, +instantly and graciously explained to him that she had been +corresponding a good deal with Octavius Quirk of late, over her new +work. She informed him, further, that Octavius Quirk was coming to dine +there that evening—what a pity it was that Mr. Moore was engaged every +evening at the theatre! When Lionel left, she had persuaded him that he +was just as much a favorite as ever; he could very well understand that +she had cultivated Octavius Quirk's acquaintance only in his capacity as +a kind of pseudo-literary person.</p> + +<p>Day after day of this lonely week passed; Lionel, all unknown to +himself, was marching onward to his fate. On the Saturday<!-- Page 290 --><span class="pagenum">{290}</span> there were +two performances of "The Squire's Daughter;" at night he felt very +tired—which was unusual with him; that, or some other palpable excuse, +was sufficient to take him down to Victoria station on the Sunday +morning. He had forgotten, or put aside, all Maurice Mangan's +cool-blooded presentation of his case; undefined longings were in his +brain; the future was to be quite different from the past—and somehow +Honnor Cunyngham was the central figure in these mirage-like visions. He +had formed no definite plans; he had prepared no persuasive appeal; the +only and immediate thing he knew was that he wished to be in the same +place with her, breathing the same air with her, with the chance of +catching a distant glimpse of her, even if he were himself to remain +unseen. Would she be out walking along the sea-front after church? +Surely so, when she had Lady Adela and her sisters as her guests. And if +not, he would call in the afternoon; how well he remembered the rather +dusky drawing-room and its curious scent of sweet-briar or some similar +perfume. A hushed half-hour there would be something to be treasured up +and conned over again and again in subsequent recollection. Would she be +sitting near the window, half-shadowed by the curtains? Or standing in +front of the fire, perhaps, absently gazing into it, her tall and +elegant figure outlined by the crimson flames?</p> + +<p>When he arrived at Brighton he walked rapidly away down to the King's +Road, and there he moderated his pace, keeping his eyes alert. The +people were beginning to come out from the various churches and many of +them, before going in-doors, joined that slow promenade up and down the +greensward farther west. But, look where he might, there was no sign of +Lady Cunyngham and her daughter, nor of Lady Adela and her two sisters. +They would have been easily distinguishable, he thought. That they were +in Brighton, he had no doubt; but apparently they were nowhere in this +throng; so, rather downhearted, he retraced his steps to the Orleans +Club, where he passed an hour or two with such acquaintances as he met +there.</p> + +<p>He was more fortunate in the afternoon. When he went along to Adelaide +Crescent, Lady Cunyngham and her daughter were both at home; and it was +with a sense of joyous relief—and yet with a touch of disquietude +too—that he found himself ascending the soft-carpeted stairs. When he +was shown into<!-- Page 291 --><span class="pagenum">{291}</span> the drawing-room, he found only one occupant there—it +was Honnor Cunyngham herself, who was standing by a big portfolio set on +a brass stand, and apparently engaged in arranging some large +photographs. She turned and greeted him very pleasantly and without any +surprise; she went to two low settles coming out at right angles from the +fireplace and sat down, while he took a seat opposite her; if he was +rather nervous and bewildered, at finding himself thus suddenly face to +face with her and alone with her, she was quite calm and self-possessed.</p> + +<p>"Mother has just gone up-stairs; she will be here presently," Miss +Honnor said. "But what a pity my sisters did not know you were coming +down. After church they all went off to visit an old lady, a great +friend of theirs, who can't get out-of-doors nowadays; and so I suppose +they stayed on so as to keep her company. However, I have no doubt they +will be here before long. What a pleasant thing it must be for you," she +added, "to be able to run down to Brighton for a day after a week's hard +work at the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, in a half-bitter kind of fashion. "It is a pleasant +thing to get away from the theatre—anywhere. I think I am becoming +rather sick of the theatre and all its associations."</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Moore," she said, with a smile, "it is surprising to hear +you say so—you of all men."</p> + +<p>"What comes of it? You play the fool before a lot of idle people, +until—until—your nature is subdued to what it works in, I suppose. +What service do you do to any human being?—of what use are you in the +world?"</p> + +<p>"Surely you confer a benefit on the public when you provide them with +innocent amusement," she ventured to say—she had not considered this +subject much, if at all.</p> + +<p>"But what comes of it? They laugh for an hour or two and go home. It is +all gone—like a breath of wind—"</p> + +<p>"But isn't mere distraction a useful and wholesome thing?" she +remonstrated again, "I know a great philosopher who is exceedingly fond +of billiards, and very eager about the game too; but he doesn't expect +to gain any moral enlightenment from three balls and a bit of stick. +Distraction, amusement, is necessary to human beings; we can't always be +thinking of the problems of life."<!-- Page 292 --><span class="pagenum">{292}</span></p> + +<p>"They talk of the divine power of song!" he continued. "Well, what I +want to do is this. I can sing a little; and I want to know that this +gift I have from Nature hasn't been entirely thrown away—scattered to +the winds and lost. Here in Brighton they are always getting up morning +or afternoon concerts for charitable purposes; and I wish, Miss Honnor, +when you happen to be interested in any of these, you would let me know; +I should be delighted to run down and volunteer my services. I should be +just delighted. It would be something saved. If I were struck down by an +illness, and had to lie thinking, I could say to myself that I had done +this little scrap of good—not much for a man to do, but I suppose all +that could be expected from a singer."</p> + +<p>She could not understand this strange disparagement of himself and his +profession; and she may have been vaguely afraid of the drift of these +confidences; at all events, when she had thanked him for his generous +offer, she rose and went to the portfolio.</p> + +<p>"There are some things here that I think will interest you, Mr. Moore," +she said. "They only arrived last night, and I was just putting them +away when you came in."</p> + +<p>He went to the portfolio; she took out two or three large photographs +and handed them to him; the first glance showed him what they +were—pictures of the Aivron and the Geinig valleys, with the rocks and +pools and overhanging woods he knew so well. He regarded them for an +instant or two.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what first made me long to get away from the theatre?" he +said, in a low voice. "It was those places there. It was +Strathaivron—and you."</p> + +<p>"I, Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>And now he had to go on; he had taken his fate in his hands; there was +some kind of despairing recklessness in his brain; his breath came and +went quickly and painfully as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must tell you now, whatever comes of it. I must tell you the +truth—you may think it madness—I cannot help that. What I want to do +is to give up the theatre altogether. I want to let all that go, with a +past never to be regretted—never to be recalled. I want to make for +myself a new future—if you will share it with me."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore!"<!-- Page 293 --><span class="pagenum">{293}</span></p> + +<p>Their eyes met; hers frightened, his eagerly and tremblingly expectant.</p> + +<p>"There, now you know the truth. Will you say but one word? Honnor—may I +hope?"</p> + +<p>He sought to take her hand, but she shrank back a step—not in anger, +but apparently quite stupefied.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Mr. Moore," she said, piteously. "What have I done? How +could I imagine you were thinking of any such thing? And—and on my +account—that you should dream of making such a sacrifice—giving up +your reputation and your position—"</p> + +<p>Where was his acting now?—where the passionate appeal he would have +made on the stage? He stood stock-still—his eyes bent earnestly on +hers—and he spoke slowly:</p> + +<p>"It is no sacrifice. It is nothing. I wish for another life—but with +you—with you. Have you one word of hope to give me?"</p> + +<p>He saw his answer already.</p> + +<p>"I cannot—I cannot," she said, with downcast eyes, and obviously in +such deep distress that his heart smote him.</p> + +<p>"It is enough," said he. "I—I was a fool to deceive myself with such +imaginings—that are far beyond me. You will forgive me, Miss Honnor; I +did not wish to cause you any pain; why, what harm is done except that I +have been too presumptuous and too frank—and you will forget that. Tell +me you forgive me!"</p> + +<p>He held out his hand; she took it for a moment; and for another moment +he held hers in a firm grasp.</p> + +<p>"If I could tell you," he said, in a low voice, "what I thought of +you—what every one thinks of you—you might perhaps understand why I +have dared to speak."</p> + +<p>She withdrew her hand quickly; her mother was at the door. When Lady +Cunyngham came into the room, her daughter was apparently turning over +those photographs and engravings. Lionel went forward to the elder lady +to pay his respects; there was a brief conversation, introduced by Miss +Honnor, about Mr. Moore's generous proposal to sing at any charitable +concert they might be interested in; and then, as soon as he could, +Lionel said good-bye, left the house, and passed into the outer +world—where the dusk of the December afternoon was coming down over the +far wastes of sea.<!-- Page 294 --><span class="pagenum">{294}</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h4>AN INVOCATION.</h4> + + +<p>All his vague, wild, impracticable hopes and schemes had suddenly +received their death-blow; but there was nothing worse than that; he +himself (as he imagined) had been dealt no desperate wound. For one +thing, flattered and petted as this young man had been, he was neither +unreasoning nor vain; that a woman should have refused to marry him did +not seem to him a monstrous thing; she was surely within her right in +saying no; while, on the other hand, he was neither going to die of +chagrin nor yet to plan a melodramatic revenge. But the truth was that +he had never been passionately in love with Honnor Cunyngham. Passionate +love he did not much believe in; he associated it with lime-light and +crowded audiences and the odor of gas. Indeed, it might almost be said +that he had been in love not so much with Honnor Cunyngham as with the +condition of life which she represented. He had grown restless and +dissatisfied with his present state; he had been imagining for himself +another sort of existence—but always with her as the central figure of +those fancied realms; he had been dreaming dreams—of which she had +invariably formed part. And now he had been awakened (somewhat abruptly, +perhaps, but that may have been his own fault); and there was nothing +for it but to summon his common-sense to his aid, and to assure himself +that Honnor Cunyngham, at least, was not to blame.</p> + +<p>And yet sometimes, in spite of himself, as he smoked a final cigarette +at midnight in those rooms in Piccadilly, a trace of bitterness would +come into his reveries.</p> + +<p>"I have been taught my place, that's all," he would say to himself. +"Maurice was right—I had forgotten my catechism. I wanted to play the +gardener's son, or Mordaunt to Lady Mabel; and I can't write poetry, and +I'm not in the House of Commons. I suppose my head was a little +bewildered by the kindness and<!-- Page 295 --><span class="pagenum">{295}</span> condescension of those excellent people. +They are glad to welcome you into their rooms—you are a sort of +curiosity—you sing for them—they're very civil for an hour or two—but +you must remember to leave before the footmen proceed to shut the +hall-door. Well, what's to be done? Am I to rush away to the wars, and +come back a field-marshal? Am I to make myself so obnoxious in +Parliament that the noble earl will give me his daughter in order to +shut my mouth? Oh, no; they simplify matters nowadays; 'as you were' is +the word of command; go back to the theatre; paint your face and put on +your finery; play the fool along with the rest of the comic people, and +we'll come and look at you from the stalls; and if you will marry, why, +then, keep in your own sphere, and marry Kate Burgoyne!"</p> + +<p>For now—when he was peevish and discontented and restless, or even sick +at heart, he hardly knew why—there was no Nina to solace and soothe him +with her gentle companionship, her wise counsel, her bright and cheerful +and wayward good-humor. Apparently he had as many friends and +acquaintances as before, and yet he was haunted by a curious sense of +solitude. Of a morning he would go out for a stroll along the familiar +thoroughfares—Bond Street, Conduit Street, Regent Street, where he knew +all the shops at which Nina used to linger for a moment, to glance at a +picture or a bonnet—and these seemed altogether different now. He could +not have imagined he should have missed Nina so much. Instead of dining +in his rooms at five o'clock and thereafter walking down to Sloane +Street to have a cup of tea with Nina and Mlle. Girond before they all +three set out for the theatre, he spent most of his afternoons at the +Garden Club, where there was a good deal of the game of poker being +played by young gentlemen in the up-stairs rooms. And sometimes he +returned thither after the performance, seeking anew the distraction of +card-playing and betting, until he became notorious as the fiercest +plunger in the place. Nobody could "bluff" Lionel Moore; he would "call" +his opponent if he himself had nothing better than a pair of twos; and +many a solid handful of sovereigns he had to pay for that privilege of +gazing.</p> + +<p>Day after day went by, and still there was no word of Nina; at times he +was visited by sudden sharp misgivings that terrified him. The heading +of a paragraph in a newspaper would<!-- Page 296 --><span class="pagenum">{296}</span> startle his eyes; and then he would +breathe again when he found that this poor wretch who had grown weary of +the world was unknown to him. Every evening, when Mlle. Girond came into +the theatre, she was met by the same anxious, wondering question; and +her reply was invariably the same.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it very strange?" he asked of Estelle. "Nina said she +would write to you or send you a message—I suppose as soon as all her +plans were made. I hope nothing has happened to her," he added, as a +kind of timid expression of his own darker self-questionings.</p> + +<p>"Something—something terrible?" said Estelle. "Ah, no. We should hear. +No; Nina will make sure we cannot reach her—that she is not to be seen +by you or me—then perhaps I have a message. Oh, she is very proud; she +will make sure; the pain in her heart, she will hide it and hide +it—until some time goes, and she can hold up her head, with a brave +face. Poor Nina!—she will suffer—for she will not speak, no, not to +any one."</p> + +<p>"But look here, Miss Girond," he exclaimed, "if she has gone back to her +friends in Italy, that's all right; but if she is in this country, +without any occupation, her money will soon be exhausted—she can't have +had so very much. What will become of her then? Don't you think I should +put an advertisement in the papers—not in my name, but in yours—your +initials—begging her at least to let you know where she is?"</p> + +<p>Estelle shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, it is useless. Perhaps I understand Nina a little better than you, +though you know her longer. She is gentle and affectionate and very +grateful to her friends; but under that there is firmness—oh, yes. She +has firmness of mind, although she is so loving; when she has decided to +go away and remain, you will not draw her back, no, not at all! She will +remain where she wishes to be; perhaps she decides never to see any of +us again. Well, well, it is pitiable, but for us to interfere, that is +useless."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not so sure of that," he said. "As you say, I have known Nina +longer than you have; if I could only learn where she is, I am quite +sure that I could persuade her to come back."</p> + +<p>"Very well—try!" said Estelle, throwing out both hands. "I<!-- Page 297 --><span class="pagenum">{297}</span> say +no—that she will not say where she is. And your London papers, how will +they find her? Perhaps she is in a small English village—perhaps in +Paris—perhaps in Naples—perhaps in Malta. For me, no. She said, 'If +you are my friend, you will not seek to discover where I have gone.' I +am her friend; I obey her wish. When she thinks it is right, she will +send me a message. Until then, I wait."</p> + +<p>But if Nina had gone away—depriving him of her pleasant +companionship, her quick sympathy, her grave and almost matron-like +remonstrances—there was another quite ready to take her place. Miss +Burgoyne did not at all appear to regret the disappearance from the +theatre of Antonia Rossi. She was kinder to this young man than ever; +she showered her experienced blandishments upon him, even when she +rallied him about his gloomy looks or listless demeanor. All the time he +was not on the stage, and not engaged in dressing, he usually spent in +her sitting-room; there were cigarettes and lemonade awaiting him; and +when she herself could not appear, at all events she could carry on a +sort of conversation with him from the inner sanctuary; and often she +would come out and finish her make-up before the large mirror while she +talked to him.</p> + +<p>"They tell me you gamble," she said to him on one occasion, in her blunt +way.</p> + +<p>"Not much," he said.</p> + +<p>"What good do you get out of it?" she asked again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it is a sort of distraction. It keeps people from thinking."</p> + +<p>"And what have you to think about?" continued Grace Mainwaring, +regarding herself in the glass. "What dreadful crimes have you to +forget? You want to drown remorse, do you? I dare say you ought; but I +don't believe it all the same. You men don't care what you do, and poor +girls' hearts get broken. But gambling! Well, I imagine most men have +one vice or another, but gambling has always seemed to me the stupidest +thing one could take to. Drink kills you, but I suppose you get some fun +out of it. What fun do you get out of gambling? Too serious, isn't it? +And then the waste of money. The fact is, you want somebody to take care +of you, Master Lionel; and a fine job she'll have of it, whoever +undertakes it!"<!-- Page 298 --><span class="pagenum">{298}</span></p> + +<p>"Why should it be a she," he asked, "assuming that I am incapable of +managing my own affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Because it is the way of the world," she answered, promptly. "And you, +of all people, need somebody to look after you. Why should you have to +take to gambling, at your time of life? You're not shamming <i>ennui</i>, are +you, to imitate your swell acquaintances? <i>Ennui!</i> I could cure their +<i>ennui</i> for them, if they'd only come to <i>me</i>!" she added, somewhat +scornfully.</p> + +<p>"A cure for <i>ennui</i>?" he said. "That would be valuable; what is it?"</p> + +<p>"I'd tell them to light a wax match and put it up their nostril and hold +it there till it went out," she answered, with some sharpness.</p> + +<p>"It would make them jump, anyway, wouldn't it?" he said, listlessly.</p> + +<p>"It would give them something to claim their very earnest attention for +at least a fortnight," Miss Burgoyne observed, with decision; and then +she had to ask him to open the door, for it was time for her to get up +to the wings.</p> + +<p>Christmas was now close at hand, and one evening when Harry Thornhill, +attired in his laced coat and ruffles, silken stockings and buckled +shoes, went as usual into Miss Burgoyne's room, he perceived that she +had, somewhere or other, obtained a piece of mistletoe, which she had +placed on the top of the piano. As soon as Grace Mainwaring knew he was +there, she came forth from the dressing-room and went to the big mirror, +kicking out her resplendent train of flounced white satin behind her, +and proceeding to judge of the general effect of her powder and patches +and heavily-pencilled eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going for Christmas?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Into the country," he answered.</p> + +<p>"That's no good," said the brilliant-eyed white little bride, still +contemplating herself in the glass, and giving a finishing touch here +and there. "The country's too horrid at this time of year. We are going +to Brighton, some friends and I, a rather biggish party; and a whole +heap of rooms have been taken at a hotel. That will be fun, I promise +you. A dance in the evening. You'd better come; I can get you an +invitation."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I couldn't very well. I am going to play the good<!-- Page 299 --><span class="pagenum">{299}</span> boy, and +pass one night under the parental roof. It isn't often I get the +chance."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would tell me where to hang up that piece of mistletoe," she +said, presently.</p> + +<p>"I know where I should like to hang it up," he made answer, with a sort +of lazy impertinence.</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Just over your head."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"You would see."</p> + +<p>She made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I shouldn't see anything of the kind," she retorted, +confidently. "I should see nothing of the kind. You haven't acquired the +right, young gentleman. On the stage Harry Thornhill may claim his +privileges—or make believe; but off the stage he must keep his +distance."</p> + +<p>That significant phrase about his not having acquired the right was +almost a challenge. And why should he not say, "Well, give me the +right!" What did it matter? It was of little concern what happened to +him. As he lay back in his chair and looked at her, he guessed what she +would do. He imagined the pretty little performance. "Well, give me the +right, then!" Miss Burgoyne turns round from the mirror. "Lionel, what +do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean: let us be engaged lovers off the stage as well as +on." She hangs down her head. He goes to her and kisses her—without any +mistletoe; she murmurs some doubt and hesitation, in her maiden shyness; +he laughingly reassures her; it is all over, in half a dozen seconds. +And then? Why, then he has secured for himself a sufficiently +good-natured life-companion; it will be convenient in many ways, +especially when they are engaged at the same theatre; he will marry in +his own sphere, and everybody be satisfied. If he has to give up his +bachelor ways and habits, she will probably look after a little +establishment as well as another; where there is no frantic passion on +either side, there will be no frantic jealousy; and, after all, what is +better than peace and quiet and content?</p> + +<p>Was he too indolent, then, to accept this future that seemed to be +offered to him?<!-- Page 300 --><span class="pagenum">{300}</span></p> + +<p>"Isn't it rather odd to go to a Brighton hotel for Christmas?" he said, +at random.</p> + +<p>"It's the swagger thing to do, don't you know?" said Miss Burgoyne, +whose phraseology sometimes made him wince. "It's the latest fad among +people who have no formal family ties. I can imagine it will be the +jolliest thing possible. Instead of the big family gathering, where half +the relations hate the sight of the other half, you have all nice +people, picked friends and acquaintances; and you go away down to a +place where you can have your choice of rooms, where you have every +freedom and no responsibility, where you can have everything you want +and no trouble in getting it. Instead of foggy London, the sea; and at +night, instead of Sir Roger de Coverley with a lot of hobbledehoys, you +have a charming little dance, on a good floor, with capital partners. +Come, Master Lionel, change your mind; and you and I will go down +together on Christmas morning in the Pullman. Most of the others are +there already; it's only one or two poor professionals who will have to +go down on Christmas-day."</p> + +<p>But Lionel shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Duty—duty," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Duty!" said she, contemptuously. "Duty is a thing you owe to other +people, which no one ever thinks of paying to you." And therewith this +profound moralist and epigrammatist tucked up her white satin train and +waited for him to open the door, so that she might make her way to the +stage, he humbly following.</p> + +<p>On the Christmas morning the display of parcels, packets, and envelopes, +large and small, spread out on the side-table in his sitting-room was +simply portentous; for the fashionable world of London had had no +intimation yet that their favorite singer was ill-disposed towards them, +and had even at times formed sullen resolutions of withdrawing +altogether from their brilliant rooms. As he quite indifferently turned +the packages and letters over, trying to guess at the name of the sender +by the address, he said to himself,</p> + +<p>"They toss you those things out of their bounty as they fling a shilling +to a crossing-sweeper because it is Christmas-day."</p> + +<p>But here was one that he opened, recognizing the handwriting of his +cousin Francie; and Francie had sent him a very pretty<!-- Page 301 --><span class="pagenum">{301}</span> pair of blue +velvet slippers, with his initials worked by herself in thread of gold. +That was all right, for he had got for Miss Francie a little present +that he was about to take down with him—a hand-bag in green lizard-skin +that might be useful to her when she was going on her numerous errands. +It was different with the next packet he opened (also recognizing the +writing), for this was a paper-weight—an oblong slab of crystal set in +silver, with a photograph of the sender showing through, and the +inscription at the foot, "To Lionel Moore, from his sincere friend, +K.B." And he had never thought of getting anything for Miss Burgoyne! +Well, it was too late now; he would have to atone for his neglect of her +when he returned to town. Meanwhile he recollected that just about now +she would be getting down to Victoria station <i>en route</i> to Brighton; +and, indeed, had it not been for the duty he owed the old people, he +would have been well content to be going with her. The last time he had +been in a Pullman car on the way to Brighton it was with other +friends—or acquaintances; he knew his place now, and was resigned. So +he continued opening these parcels and envelopes carelessly and somewhat +ungratefully, merely glancing at the various messages, until it was time +to bethink him of setting forth.</p> + +<p>But first of all, when the cab had been summoned and his portmanteau put +on the top, he told the man to drive to a certain number in Sloane +Street; he thought he would call for a minute on Mrs. Grey and Miss +Girond and wish them a pleasant Christmas. Estelle, when she made her +appearance, knew better what had brought him hither.</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is so kind of you to send me the pretty work-case—thank you, +thank you very much; and Mrs. Grey is so proud of the beautiful +lamp—she will tell you in a moment when she comes in. And if there is +something we might have liked better—pardon, it is no disfavor to the +pretty presents, not at all—it is what you would like, too, I am +sure—it is a message from Nina. Yes, I expected it a little—I was +awake hour after hour this morning—when the postman came I ran down the +stairs—no! no word of any kind."</p> + +<p>He stood silent for a minute.</p> + +<p>"I confess I had some kind of fancy she might wish to send you just a +line or a card—any sort of reminder of her existence—on<!-- Page 302 --><span class="pagenum">{302}</span> +Christmas-day; for she knows the English custom," he said, rather +absently. "And there is nothing—nothing of any kind, you say. Well, I +have written to Pandiani."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the <i>maestro</i>?—yes?"</p> + +<p>"You see, I knew it was no use writing to her friends," he continued, +"for, if she were with them, she would tell them not to answer. But it +is different with Pandiani. If she has got any musical engagement in +Naples, or if she has gone to Malta, he would know. It seems hard that +at Christmas-time we should be unable to send a message to Nina."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she is sure that we think of her," Estelle said, rather sadly. +"I did not know till she was gone that I loved her so much and would +miss her so much; because sometimes—sometimes she reproved me—and we +had little disagreements—but all the same she was so kind—and always +it was for your opinion I was corrected—it was what you would think if +I did this or that. Ah, well, Nina will take her own time before she +allows us to know. Perhaps she is not very happy."</p> + +<p>Nor had Mrs. Grey any more helpful counsel or conjecture to offer; so, +rather downheartedly, he got into the hansom again and set out for +Victoria station, where he was to meet Maurice Mangan.</p> + +<p>Maurice he found in charge of a bewildering number of variously sized +packages, which seemed to cause him some anxiety, for there was no sort +of proper cohesion among them.</p> + +<p>"Toys for Francie's children, I'll bet," said Lionel.</p> + +<p>"Well, how otherwise could I show my gratitude?" Mangan said. "You know +it's awfully good of your people, Linn, to ask a poor, solitary devil +like me to join their Christmas family party. It's almost too much—"</p> + +<p>"I should think they were precious glad to get you!" Lionel made answer, +as he and his friend took their seats in one of the carriages.</p> + +<p>"And I've got a little present for Miss Francie herself," continued +Mangan, opening his bag, and taking therefrom a small packet. He +carefully undid the tissue-paper wrappers, until he could show his +companion what they contained; it was a copy of "Aurora Leigh," +bound in white vellum, and on the cover were stamped two tiny +violets,-green-stemmed and purple-blossomed.<!-- Page 303 --><span class="pagenum">{303}</span></p> + +<p>"'Aurora Leigh,'" said Lionel—not daring, however, to take the dainty +volume in his hands. "That will just suit Miss Savonarola. And what are +the two violets, Maurice—what do they mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was merely a little device of my own," Mangan said, evasively.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that these are your handiwork?" Lionel asked, +looking a little closer.</p> + +<p>"Ob, no. I merely drew them, and the binder had them stamped in color +for me."</p> + +<p>"And what did that cost?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet."</p> + +<p>"And don't care—so long as it's for Francie. And yet you are always +lecturing me on my extravagance!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it's Christmas-time," Mangan said; "and I confess I like +Christmas and all its ways. I do. I seem to feel the general excitement +throughout the country tingling in me too; I like to see the children +eagerly delighted, and the houses decorated with evergreens, and the old +folk pleased and happy with the enthusiasm of the youngsters. If I've +got to drink an extra glass of port, I'm there; if it's Sir Roger de +Coverley, I'm there; I'll do anything to add to the general +<i>Schwärmerei</i>. What the modern <i>littérateur</i> thinks it fine to write +about Christmas being all sham sentiment is simply insufferable bosh. +Christmas isn't in the least bit played out—though the magazinist may +be, or may pretend to be. I think it's a grand thing to have a season +for sending good wishes, for recollection of absent friends, for letting +the young folk kick up their heels. I say, Linn, I hope there's going to +be some sunlight down there. I am longing to see a holly-tree in the +open air—the green leaves and scarlet berries glittering in the +sunlight. Oh, I can tell you an autumn session of Parliament is a +sickening thing—when the interminable speeches and wranglings drag on +and on until you think they're going to tumble over into Christmas-day +itself. There's fog in your brain as well as in your throat, and you +seem to forget there ever was an outer world; you get listless and +resigned, and think you've lived all your life in darkness. Well, just a +glimmer of sunshine, that's all I bargain for—just a faint glimmer—and +a sight of the two holly-trees by the gate of the doctor's house."<!-- Page 304 --><span class="pagenum">{304}</span></p> + +<p>What intoxication had got into the head of this man? Whither had fled +his accustomed indifference and indolence, his sardonic self-criticism? +He was like a school-boy off for the holidays. He kept looking out of +the window—with persistent hope of the gray sky clearing. He was +impatient of the delay at the various stations. And when at length they +got out and found the doctor's trap awaiting them, and proceeded to get +up the long and gradual incline that leads to Winstead village, he +observed that the fat old pony, if he were lent for a fortnight to a +butcher, would find it necessary to improve his pace.</p> + +<p>When they reached the doctor's house and entered, they found that only +the old lady was at home; the doctor had gone to visit a patient; Miss +Francie was, as usual, away among her young convalescents.</p> + +<p>"It has been a busy time for Francie," Mrs. Moore said. "She has been +making so many different things for them. And I don't like to hear her +sewing-machine going so late at night."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you let her do it?" Lionel said, in his impetuous way. "Why +don't you get in somebody to help her? Look here, I'll pay for that. You +call in a seamstress to do all that sewing, and I'll give her a +sovereign a week. Why should Francie have her eyes ruined?"</p> + +<p>"Lionel is like the British government, Mrs. Moore," Mangan said, with a +smile. "He thinks he can get over every difficulty by pulling out his +purse. But perhaps Miss Francie might prefer carrying out her charitable +work herself."</p> + +<p>So Maurice Mangan was arrogating to himself, was he, the right of +guessing Francie's preferences?</p> + +<p>"Well, mother, tell me where I am likely to find her. I am going to pull +her out of those fever-dens and refuges for cripples. Why, she ought to +know that's all exploded now. Slumming, as a fad, had its day, but it's +quite gone out now—"</p> + +<p>"Do you think it is because it is fashionable, or was fashionable, that +Miss Francie takes an interest in those poor children?" Maurice asked, +gently.</p> + +<p>Lionel was nearly telling him to mind his own business; why should he +step in to defend Cousin Francie?</p> + +<p>"She said she was going across the common to old Widow Jackson's," his +mother answered him, "and you may find her either there or on the way to +the village."<!-- Page 305 --><span class="pagenum">{305}</span></p> + +<p>"Widow Jackson's?" he repeated, in doubt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know it," Mangan said, cheerfully. And again Lionel was somewhat +astonished. How had Maurice Mangan acquired this particular knowledge of +Francie's surroundings? Perhaps his attendance at the House of Commons +had not been so unintermittent as he had intimated?</p> + +<p>There were still further surprises in store for Master Lionel. When at +length they encountered Miss Francie—how pretty she looked as she came +along the pathway through the gorse, in her simple costume of dark gray, +with a brown velvet hat and brown tan gloves!—it was in vain that he +tried to dissuade her from giving up the rest of the afternoon to her +small <i>protégés</i>. In the most natural way in the world she turned to +Maurice Mangan—and her eyes sought his in a curiously straightforward, +confiding fashion that caused Lionel to wonder.</p> + +<p>"On Christmas-day, of all the days of the year!" she said, as if +appealing to Maurice. "Surely, surely, I must give up Christmas-day to +them! Oh, do you know, Mr. Mangan, there never was a happier present +than you thought of for the little blind boy who got his leg broken—you +remember? He learned almost directly how to do the puzzle; and he gets +the ring off so quickly that no one can see how it is done; and he +laughs with delight when he finds that any neighbor coming in can only +growl and grumble—and fail. I'm going there just now; won't you come? +And mind you be very angry when you can't get the ring off; you may use +any language you like about your clumsiness—poor little chap, he has +heard plenty of that in his time."</p> + +<p>Maurice needed no second invitation; this was what he had come for; he +had found the sunlight to lighten up the Christmas-day withal; his face, +that was almost beautiful in its fine intellectuality, showed that +whenever she spoke to him. Lionel, of course, went with them.</p> + +<p>And again it was Maurice Mangan whom Miss Francie addressed, as they +walked along to the village.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, in all this blessed place, I can't find a copy of Mrs. +Hemans's poems; and I wanted you to read 'The Arab to his Horse'—is +that the title?—at my school-treat to-morrow. They would all understand +that. Well, we must get something else; for we're to make a show of +being educational and instructive<!-- Page 306 --><span class="pagenum">{306}</span> before the romping begins. I think +the 'Highland Schottische' is the best of any for children who haven't +learned dancing; they can all jump about somehow—and the music is +inspiriting. The vicar's daughters are coming to hammer at the piano. +Oh, Mr. Mangan," she continued, still appealing to him, "do you think +you could tell them a thrilling folk-story?—wouldn't that be better?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you want me to do something, Francie?" said Lionel, perhaps a +little hurt.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean—"</p> + +<p>"The only thing I'm fit for—I'll sing them a song, if you like. 'My +Pretty Jane'—no, that would hardly do—'The Death of Nelson' or 'Rule +Britannia'—"</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't there be rather a risk, Lionel? If you were to miss your +train—and disappoint a great audience in London?" she said, gently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll take my chance of that? I'm used to it," he said, "I'll have +Dick and the pony waiting outside. Oh, yes, I'll sing something for +them."</p> + +<p>"It will be very kind of you," she said.</p> + +<p>And again, as they went to this or that cottage, to see that the small +convalescent folk were afforded every possible means of holding high +holiday (how fortunate they were as compared with thousands of similar +unfortunates, shivering away the hopeless hours in dingy courts and +alleys, gin clutching at every penny, that might have got food for their +empty stomachs or rags for their poor shrunken limbs!), it was to +Maurice Mangan that Francie chiefly talked, and, indeed, he seemed to +know all about those patient little sufferers, and the time they had +been down here, and when they might have to be sent back to London to +make way for their successors. There was also a question as to which of +their toys they might be permitted to carry off with them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't deprive them of one," Mangan said, distinctly. "I've +brought down a heap more this morning."</p> + +<p>"Again—again?" she said, almost reproachfully; but the gentle gray eyes +looked pleased, notwithstanding.</p> + +<p>Well, that Christmas evening was spent in the doctor's house with much +quiet enjoyment; for the old people were proud to have their only son +with them for so long a time; and Francie<!-- Page 307 --><span class="pagenum">{307}</span> seemed glad to have the +various labors of the day over; and Maurice Mangan, with quite unwonted +zest, kept the talk flowing free. Next morning was chiefly devoted to +preparations for the big entertainment to be given in the school-room; +and in due course Lionel redeemed his promise by singing no fewer than +four songs—at the shyly proffered request of the vicar's pretty +daughters; thereafter, leaving Maurice to conduct the gay proceedings to +a close, he got out and jumped into the trap and was driven off to the +station. He arrived at the New Theatre in plenty of time; the odor of +consumed gas was almost a shock to him, well as he was used to it, after +the clear air of Winstead.</p> + +<p>And did he grudge or envy the obvious interest and confidence that +appeared to have sprung up between his cousin and his friend? Not one +bit. Maurice had always had a higher appreciation of Francie and her +aims and ideals than he himself had, much as he liked her; and it was +but natural she should turn to the quarter from which she could derive +most sympathy and practical help. And if Maurice's long-proclaimed +admiration for Miss Savonarola should lead to a still closer bond +between those two—what then?</p> + +<p>It was not jealousy that had hold of Lionel Moore's heart just at this +time; it was rather a curious unrest that seemed to increase as day by +day went by without bringing any word of Nina. Had she vouchsafed the +smallest message, to say she was safe and well, to give him some notion +of her whereabouts, it might have been different; but he knew not which +way to turn, north, south, east, or west; at this season of kindly +remembrance he could summon up no sort of picture of Nina and her +surroundings. If only he had known, he kept repeating to himself. He had +been so wrapped up in his idle dreams and visions that, all unwittingly, +he had spurned and crushed this true heart beating close to his side. +And as for making amends, what amends could now be made; He only wanted +to know that Nina was alive—and could forgive.</p> + +<p>As he sat by himself in the still watches of the night, plunged in +silent reverie, strange fancies began to fill his brain. He recalled +stories in which he had read of persons separated by great distances +communicating with each other by some species of spiritual telegraphy; +and a conviction took possession of<!-- Page 308 --><span class="pagenum">{308}</span> him that now, if ever—now as the +old year was about to go out and the new year come in—he could call to +Nina across the unknown void that lay between them, and that she would +hear and perchance respond. Surely, on New-Year's Eve, Nina would be +thinking of her friends in London; and, if their earnest and anxious +thoughts could but meet her half-way, might there not be some sudden +understanding, some recognition, some glad assurance that all was well? +This wild fancy so grew upon him that when the last day of the year +arrived it had become a fixed belief; and yet it was with a haunting +sense of dread—a dread of he knew not what—that he looked forward to +the stroke of twelve.</p> + +<p>He got through his performance that night as if he were in a dream, and +hurried home; it was not far from midnight when he arrived. He only +glanced at the outside of the letters awaiting him; there was no one +from her; not in that way was Nina to communicate with him, if her hopes +for the future, her forgiveness for what lay in the past, were to reach +him at all. He drew a chair to the table and sat down, leaving the +letters unheeded.</p> + +<p>The slow minutes passed; his thoughts went wandering over the world, +seeking for what they could not find. And how was he to call to Nina +across the black gulf of the night, wheresoever she might be? Suddenly +there leaped into his recollection an old German ballad he used to sing. +It was that of the three comrades who were wont to drink together, until +one died, and another died, and nevertheless the solitary survivor kept +the accustomed tryst, and still, sitting there alone, he had the three +glasses filled, and still he sang aloud, "<i>Aus voller Brust</i>." There +came an evening; as he filled the cups, a tear fell into his own; yet +bravely he called to his ghostly companions, "I drink to you, my +brothers—but why are you so mute and still?" And behold! the glasses +clinked together; and the wine was slowly drunk out of all the three, +"<i>Fiducit! du wackerer Zecher!</i>"—it was the loyal comrade's last +draught. And now Lionel, hardly knowing what he was doing—for there +were such wild desires and longings in his brain—went to a small +cabinet hard by and brought forth the loving-cup he had given to Nina. +They two were the last who had drunk out of it. And if now, if once +again, on this last night of all the nights of the year, he were to<!-- Page 309 --><span class="pagenum">{309}</span> +repeat his challenge, would she not know? He cared not in what form she +might appear—Nina could not be other than gentle—silent she might be, +but surely her eyes would shine with kindness and forgiveness. He was +not aware of it, but his fingers were trembling as he took the cup in +twain, and put the two tiny goblets on the table and filled them with +wine. Nay, in a sort of half-dazed fashion he went and opened the door +and left it wide—might there not be some shadowy footfall on the empty +stair! He returned to the table and sat down; it was almost twelve; he +was shivering a little—the night was cold.</p> + +<p>All around him the silence appeared to grow more profound; there was +only the ticking of a clock. As minute after minute passed, the suspense +became almost unendurable; something seemed to be choking him; and yet +his eyes would furtively and nervously wander from the small goblets +before him to the open door, as if he expected some vision to present +itself there, from whatsoever distant shore it might come.</p> + +<p>The clock behind him struck a silver note, and instantly this vain +fantasy vanished; what was the use of regarding the two wine-filled cups +when he knew that Nina was far and far away? He sprang to his feet and +went to the window, and gazed out into the black and formless chaos +beyond.</p> + +<p>"Nina!" he called, "Nina!—Nina!" as if he would pierce the hollow +distance with this passionate cry.</p> + +<p>Alas! how could Nina answer? At this moment, over all the length and +breadth of England, innumerable belfries had suddenly awakened from +their sleep, and ten thousand bells were clanging their iron tongues, +welcoming in the new-found year. Down in the valleys, where white mists +lay along the slumbering rivers; far up on lonely moorlands, under the +clear stars; out on the sea-coasts, where the small red points of the +windows were face-to-face with the slow-moaning, inarticulate main; +everywhere, over all the land, arose this clamor of joy-bells; and how +could Nina respond to his appeal? If she had heard, if she had tried to +answer, her piteous cry was swallowed up and lost; heart could not speak +to heart, whatever message they might wish to send, through this +universal, far-pulsating jangle and tumult.</p> + +<p>But perhaps she had not heard at all? Perhaps there was<!-- Page 310 --><span class="pagenum">{310}</span> something more +impassable between her and him than even the wide, dark seas and the +night?</p> + +<p>He turned away from the window. He went back to the chair; he threw his +arms on the table before him—and hid his face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h4>ENTRAPPED.</h4> + + +<p>There were two young gentlemen standing with their backs to the fire in +the supper-room of the Garden Club. They were rather good-looking young +men, very carefully shaven and shorn, gray-eyed, fair-moustached; and, +indeed, they were so extremely like each other that it might have been +hard to distinguish between them but that one chewed a toothpick and the +other a cigarette. Both were in evening dress, and both still wore the +overcoat and crush-hat in which they had come into the club. They could +talk freely, without risk of being overheard; for the members along +there at the supper-table were all listening, with much laughter, to a +professional entertainer, who, unlike the proverbial clown released from +the pantomime, was never so merry and amusing as when diverting a select +little circle of friends with his own marvellous adventures.</p> + +<p>"It's about time for Lionel Moore to make his appearance," said one of +the two companions, glancing at the clock.</p> + +<p>"I would rather have anybody else, if it comes to that," said the other, +peevishly. "Moore spoils the game all to bits. You never know where to +have him—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's just where he finds his salvation," continued he of the +toothpick. "Mind you, that wild play has its advantages. He gets caught +now and again, but he catches you at times. You make sure he is +bluffing, you raise him and raise him, then you call him—and find he +has three aces! And I will say this for Moore—he's a capital loser. He +doesn't seem to mind losing a bit, so long as you keep on. You would +think he was a millionaire; only a millionaire would have an eye on +every chip, I suppose. What salary do they give him at the New Theatre?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf310" id="illusf310"></a> +<img src="images/illusf310.jpg" alt=""He threw his arms on the table before him, and hid his +face"" /> +<h5><b>"<i>He threw his arms on the table before him, and hid his +face</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"Fifty pounds a week, I've heard say; but people tell such <!-- Page 311 --><span class="pagenum">{311}</span>lies. Even +fifty pounds a week won't hold out if he goes on like that. What I +maintain is that it isn't good poker. For one thing, I object to +'straddling' altogether; it's simply a stupid way of raising the stakes; +of course, the straddler has the advantage of coming in last, but then +look at the disadvantage of having to bet first. No, I don't object to +betting before the draw; that's sensible; there's some skill and +judgment in that; but straddling is simply stupid. You ought to make it +easy for every one to come in; that's the proper game; frighten them out +afterwards if you can." And then he added, gloomily, "That fellow Moore +is a regular bull in a china-shop."</p> + +<p>"I suspect he has been raking over a few of your chips, Bertie," his +companion said, with a placid grin.</p> + +<p>Just as he was speaking, Lionel entered the room, and, having ordered +some supper, took a seat at the table. One of those young gentlemen, +throwing away his toothpick, came and sat down opposite him.</p> + +<p>"Big house to-night, as usual?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Full," was the answer. "I dare say when the archangel blows his trump, +"The Squire's Daughter" will still be advertised in the bills all over +the town. I don't see why it should stop before then."</p> + +<p>"It would be a sudden change for the company, wouldn't it?" the young +man on the other side of the table said. "Fancy, now, a music-hall +singer—no disrespect to you, Moore—I mean a music-hall comic—fancy +his finding himself all at once in heaven; don't you think he'd feel +deuced awkward? He wouldn't be quite at home, would he?—want to get +back to Mr. Chairman and the chorus in the gallery, eh, what?—'pon my +soul, it would make a capital picture if you could get a fellow with +plenty of imagination to do it—quite tragic, don't you know—you'd have +the poor devil's face just full of misery—not knowing where to go or +what to do—"</p> + +<p>"The British public would be inclined to rise and rend that painter," +said Lionel, carelessly; this young man was useful as a poker-player, +but otherwise not interesting.</p> + +<p>Two or three members now came in; and by the time Lionel had finished +his frugal supper there was a chosen band of five ready to go up-stairs +and set to work with the cards. There was some ordering of +lemon-squashes and further cigarettes;<!-- Page 312 --><span class="pagenum">{312}</span> new packs were brought by the +waiter; the players took their places; and the game was opened. With a +sixpenny "ante" and a ten-shilling "limit," the amusement could have +been kept mild enough by any one who preferred it should remain so.</p> + +<p>But the usual thing happened. Now and again a fierce fight would ensue +between two good hands, and that seemed to arouse a spirit of general +emulation and eagerness; the play grew more bold; bets apart from the +game were laid by individual players between themselves. The putting up +of the "ante" became a mere farce, for every one came in as a matter of +course, even if he had to draw five cards; and already the piles of +chips on the table had undergone serious diminution or augmentation—in +the latter case there was a glimmer of gold among the bits of ivory. +There was no visible excitement, however; perhaps a player caught +bluffing might smile a little—that was all.</p> + +<p>Lionel had been pretty fortunate, considering his wild style of play; +but then his very recklessness stood him in good stead when he chanced +to have a fair hand—his reputation for bluffing leading on his +opponents. And then an extraordinary bit of luck had befallen him. On +this occasion the first hand dealt him contained three queens, a seven, +and a five. To make the other players imagine he had either two pairs or +was drawing to a flush, he threw away only one of the two useless +cards—the five, as it chanced; but his satisfaction (which he bravely +endeavored to conceal) may be imagined when he found that the single +card dealt him in its place was a seven—he therefore had a full hand! +When it came to his turn, instead of beginning cautiously, as an +ordinary player would have done, he boldly raised the bet ten shillings. +But that frightened nobody. His game was known; they imagined he had +either two pairs or had failed to fill his flush and was merely +bluffing. When, however, there was another raise of ten shillings from +the opposite side of the table, that was a very different matter; one by +one the others dropped out, leaving these two in. And then it went on:</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll just see your ten shillings and raise you another ten."</p> + +<p>"And another ten."</p> + +<p>"And another ten."</p> + +<p>"And another ten."</p> + +<p>Of course, universal attention was now concentrated on this<!-- Page 313 --><span class="pagenum">{313}</span> duel. +Probably four out of five of the players were of opinion that Lionel +Moore was bluffing; that, at least, was certainly the opinion of his +antagonist, who kept raising and raising without a qualm. At length both +of them had to borrow money to go on with; but still the duel continued, +and still the pile of gold and chips in the middle of the table grew and +increased.</p> + +<p>"And another ten."</p> + +<p>"And another ten."</p> + +<p>Not a word of encouragement or dissuasion was uttered by any one of the +onlookers; they sat silent and amused, wondering which of the two was +about to be smitten under the fifth rib. And at last it was Lionel's +opponent who gave in.</p> + +<p>"On this occasion," said he, depositing his half-sovereign, "I will +simply gaze; what have you got?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I have got a full hand," Lionel answered, putting down his hand +on the table.</p> + +<p>"That is good enough," the other said, stolidly. "Take away the money."</p> + +<p>After this dire combat, the game fell flat a little; but interest was +soon revived by a round of Jack-pots; and here again Lionel was in good +luck. Indeed, when the players rose from the table about three o'clock, +he might have come away a winner of close on £40 had not some reckless +person called out something about whiskey poker. Now whiskey poker is +the very stupidest form of gambling that the mind of man has ever +conceived, though at the end of the evening some folk hunger after it as +a kind of final fillip. Each person puts down a certain sum—it may be a +sovereign, it may be five sovereigns; poker hands are dealt out, the +cards being displayed face upwards on the table; there is no drawing; +whoever has the best hand simply annexes the pool. It looks like a game, +but it is not a game; it is merely cutting the cards; but, as the stakes +can be doubled or trebled each round, the jaded appetite for gambling +finds here a potent and fiery stimulant just as the party breaks up. +Lionel was not anxious to get away with the money he had won. It was he +who proposed to increase the stakes to £10 from each player—which the +rest of them, to their credit be it said, refused to do. In the end, +when they went to get their hats and coats before issuing into the +morning air, some one happened to ask Lionel how he had come off on the +whole night; and he replied that<!-- Page 314 --><span class="pagenum">{314}</span> he did not think he had either won or +lost anything to speak of. He hardly knew. Certainly he did not seem to +care.</p> + +<p>The dawn was not yet. The gas-lamps shone in the murky thoroughfares as +he set out for Piccadilly—alone. The others all went away in hansoms; +he preferred to walk. And even when he reached his rooms, he did not go +to bed at once; he sat up thinking, a prey to a strange sort of +restlessness that had of late taken possession of him. For this young +man's gay and happy butterfly-life was entirely gone. The tragic +disappearance of Nina, followed by the sudden shattering of all his +visionary hopes in connection with Honnor Cunyngham, had left him in a +troubled, anxious, morbid state that he himself, perhaps, could not well +have accounted for. Then the sense of solitariness that he had +experienced when he found that Nina had so unexpectedly vanished from +his ken had been intensified since he had taken to declining invitations +from his fashionable friends, and spending his nights in the aimless +distraction of gambling at the Garden Club. Was there a touch of hurt +pride in his withdrawal from the society of those who in former days +used to be called "the great"? At least he discovered this, that if he +did wish to withdraw from their society, nothing in the world was +easier. They did not importune him. He was free to go his own way. +Perhaps this also wounded him; perhaps it was to revenge himself that he +sought to increase his popularity with the crowd; at night he sang with +a sort of bravado to bring down the house; in the day-time it comforted +him to perceive from a distance in that or the other window a goodly +display of his photographs, which he had learned to recognize from afar. +But in whatever direction these wayward moods drew him or tossed him, +there was ever this all-pervading disquiet, and a haunting regret that +almost savored of remorse, and a sick impatience of the slow-passing and +lonely hours.</p> + +<p>He had given up all hopes of hearing from Nina now or of gaining any +news of her. Pandiani had nothing to tell him. The Signorina Antonia +Rossi had not written to any of her Neapolitan friends, so far as could +be ascertained, since the previous December; certainly she had not +presented herself here in Naples to seek any engagement. The old +<i>maestro</i>, in praying his illustrious and celebrated correspondent to +accept his respectful submissions, likewise begged of him, should +anything be<!-- Page 315 --><span class="pagenum">{315}</span> learned with regard to the Signorina Rossi, to communicate +farther. There was no hope in that quarter.</p> + +<p>But one morning Estelle made a new suggestion.</p> + +<p>"There is something I have recalled; yes, it is perhaps of not great +importance; yet perhaps again," she said. "One day Nina and I, we were +speaking of this thing and the other, and she said it was right and +proper that a young lady should have a <i>dot</i>—what is the English?—no +matter. She said the young lady should bring something towards the—the +management; and she asked how she or I could do that. Then comes her +plan. She was thinking of it before she arrives in England. It was to go +to America—to be engaged for concerts—oh, they pay large, large +salaries, if you have a good voice—and Nina would take engagements for +all the big cities, until she got over to San Francisco, and from there +to Australia—a great tour—a long time—but at the end, then she has +the little fortune, and she is independent, whatever happens. +Marriage?—well, perhaps not, but she is independent. Yes, it was Nina's +plan to go away on that long tour; but she comes to England—she is +engaged at the New Theatre—she practises her little economies—but not +so as it would be in America, and now, now if she wishes to go away for +a long, long time, is it not America? She goes on the long voyage; she +forgets—what she wishes to forget. Her singing, it is constant +occupation; she must work; and they welcome a good voice there—she will +have friends. Do you consider it not possible? Yes, it is possible—for +that is to go entirely away, and there is no danger of any one +interfering."</p> + +<p>"It's just frightful to think of," he said, "if what you imagine is +correct. Fancy her crossing the Atlantic all by herself—landing in New +York unknown to any human being there—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but do you fear for Nina?" Estelle cried. "No, no—she has +courage—she has self-reliance, even in despair—she will have made +preparations for all. Everywhere she has her passport—in her voice. 'I +am Miss Ross, from the New Theatre, London,' she says. 'How do we know +that you are Miss Ross?' 'Give me a sheet of music, then.' Perhaps it is +in a theatre or a concert-room. Nina sings. 'Thank you, mademoiselle, it +is enough; what are the terms you wish for an engagement?' Then it is +finished, and Nina has all her plans made for her by<!-- Page 316 --><span class="pagenum">{316}</span> the management; +and she goes from one town to the other, far away perhaps; perhaps she +has not much time to think of England. So much the better; poor Nina!"</p> + +<p>And for a while he took an eager interest in the American newspapers. +Such of them as he could get hold of he read diligently—particularly +the columns in which concerts and musical entertainments were announced +or reported. But there was no mention of Miss Ross, or of any new singer +whom he could identify with her. Gradually he lost all hope in that +direction also. He did not forget Nina. He could not; but he grew to +think that—whether she were in America, or in Australia, or in whatever +far land she might be—she had gone away forever. Her abrupt +disappearance was no momentary withdrawal; she had sundered their +familiar association, their close comradeship, that was never to be +resumed; according to the old and sad refrain, it was "Adieu for +evermore, my dear, and adieu for evermore!" Well, for him there were +still crowded houses, with their dull thunders of applause; and there +were cards and betting to send the one feverish hour flying after the +other; and there were the lonely walks through the London streets in the +daytime—when the hours did <i>not</i> fly so quickly. He had carefully put +away those trinkets that Nina had returned to him; he would fain have +forgotten their existence.</p> + +<p>And then there was Miss Burgoyne. Miss Burgoyne could be very brisk and +cheerful when she chose; and she now seemed bent on showing Mr. Lionel +Moore the sunnier side of her character. In truth, she was most +assiduously kind to the young man, even when she scolded him about the +life he was leading. Her room and its mild refreshments were always at +his disposal. She begged for his photograph, and, having got it, she +told him to write something very nice and pretty at the foot of it; why +should formalities be used between people so intimately and constantly +associated? On more than one occasion she substituted a real rose (which +was not nearly so effective, however) for the millinery blossom which +Grace Mainwaring had to drop from the balcony to her lover below; and of +course Lionel had to treasure the flower and keep it in water, until the +hot and gassy atmosphere of his dressing-room killed it. Once or twice +she called him Lionel, by way of pretty inadvertence.</p> + +<p>There came an afternoon when the fog that had lain all day<!-- Page 317 --><span class="pagenum">{317}</span> over London +deepened and deepened until in the evening the streets were become +almost impassable. The various members of the company, setting out in +good time, managed to reach the theatre—though there were breathless +accounts of adventures and escapes as this one or that hurried through +the wings and down into the dressing-room corridor; but the public, not +being paid to come forth on such a night, for the most part preferred +the snugness and safety of their own homes, so that the house was but +half filled, and the faces of the scant audience were more dusky than +ever—were almost invisible—beyond the blaze of the footlights. And as +the performance proceeded, Miss Burgoyne professed to become more and +more alarmed. Dreadful reports came in from without. All traffic was +suspended. It was scarcely possible to cross a street. Even the +policemen, familiar with the thoroughfares, hardly dared leave the +pavement to escort a bewildered traveller to the other side.</p> + +<p>When Lionel, having dressed for the last act, went into Miss Burgoyne's +room, he found her (apparently) very much perturbed.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard? It's worse than ever!" she called to him from the inner +apartment.</p> + +<p>"So they say."</p> + +<p>"Whatever am I to do?" she exclaimed, her anxiety proving too much for +her grammar.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think you couldn't do better than stop where you are," Harry +Thornhill made answer, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Stop where I am? It's impossible! My brother Jim would go frantic. He +would make sure I was run over or drowned or something, and be off to +the police-stations."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, he wouldn't? he wouldn't stir out on such a night, if he had +any sense."</p> + +<p>"Not if he thought his sister was lost? That's all you know. There are +some people who do have a little affection in their nature," said Miss +Burgoyne, as she drew aside the curtain and came forth, and went to the +tall glass. "But surely I can get a four-wheeled cab, Mr. Moore? I will +give the man a sovereign to take me safe home. And even then it will be +dreadful. I get so frightened in a bad fog—absolutely terrified—and +especially at night. Supposing the man were to lose his way? Or he might +be drunk? I wish I had asked Jim to come down for<!-- Page 318 --><span class="pagenum">{318}</span> me. There's Miss +Constance's mother never misses a single night; I wonder who she thinks +is going to run away with that puny-faced creature!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you are at all afraid to make the venture alone, I will go with +you," said he. "I don't suppose I can see farther in a fog than any one +else; but if you are nervous about being alone, you'd better let me +accompany you."</p> + +<p>"Will you?" she said, suddenly wheeling round, and bestowing upon him a +glance of obvious gratitude. "That is indeed kind of you! Now I don't +care for all the fogs in Christendom. But really and truly," she +added—"really and truly you must tell me if I am taking you away from +any other engagement."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he said, idly. "I had thought of going up to the Garden +Club for some supper, but it isn't the sort of night for anybody to be +wandering about. When I've left you in the Edgeware Road, I can find my +way to my rooms easily. Once in Park Lane, I could go blindfold."</p> + +<p>And very proud and pleased was Miss Burgoyne to accept his escort—that +is to say, when he had, with an immense amount of trouble, brought a +four-wheeled cab, accompanied by two link-boys with blazing torches, up +to the stage-door. And when they had started off on their unknown +journey through this thick chaos, she did not minimize the fears she +otherwise should have suffered; this was thanking him by implication. As +for the route chosen by the cabman, or rather by the link-boys, neither +he nor she had the faintest idea what it was. Outside they could see +nothing but the gold and crimson of the torches flaring through the +densely yellow fog; while the grating of the wheels against the curb +told them that their driver was keeping as close as he could to the +pavement. Then they would find themselves leaving that guidance, and +blindly adventuring out into the open thoroughfare to avoid some +obstacle—some spectral wain or omnibus got hopelessly stranded; while +there were muffled cries and calls here, there, and everywhere. They +went at a snail's pace, of course. Once, at a corner, the near wheels +got on the pavement; the cab tilted over; Miss Burgoyne shrieked aloud +and clung to her companion; then there was a heavy bump, and the +venerable vehicle resumed its slow progress. Suddenly they beheld a +cluster of dim, nebulous, phantom lights high up in air.<!-- Page 319 --><span class="pagenum">{319}</span></p> + +<p>"This must be Oxford Circus, surely," Lionel said.</p> + +<p>He put his head out of the window and called to the cabman.</p> + +<p>"Where are we now, cabby?"</p> + +<p>"Blessed if I know, sir!" was the husky answer, coming from under the +heavy folds of a cravat.</p> + +<p>"Boy," he called again, "where are we? Is this Oxford Circus?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, sir," responded the sharp voice of the London <i>gamin</i>. "We +ain't 'alf way up Regent Street yet!"</p> + +<p>He shut the window.</p> + +<p>"At this rate, goodness only knows when you'll ever get home," he said +to her. "You should have stopped at the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind," said she, cheerfully. "It's an adventure. It's +something to be talked of afterwards. I shouldn't wonder if the +theatrical papers got hold of it—just the kind of paragraph to go the +round—Harry Thornhill and Grace Mainwaring lost in a fog together. No, +I don't mind. I'm very well off. But fancy some of those poor girls +about the theatre, who must be trying to get home on foot. No +four-wheeled cabs for them; no companion to keep up their spirits. I +sha'n't forget your kindness, Mr. Moore."</p> + +<p>Indeed, Lionel was much more anxious than she was. He would rather have +done without that paragraph in the newspapers. All his senses were on +the rack; and yet he could make out absolutely nothing of his +whereabouts in this formless void of a world, with its opaque +atmosphere, its distant calls, inquiries, warnings, its murky +lamp-lights that only became visible when they were over one's head. +Miss Burgoyne seemed to be well content, to be amused even. She liked to +see her name in the newspapers. There would be a pretty little paragraph +to get quoted in gossippy columns, even if she and her more anxious +fellow-adventurer did not reach home till breakfast-time.</p> + +<p>The link-boys certainly deserved the very substantial reward that Lionel +bestowed on them; for when, after what seemed interminable hours—with +all kinds of stoppages and inquiries in this Egyptian darkness—the cab +came to a final halt, and when Miss Burgoyne had been piloted across the +pavement, she declared that here, indubitably, was her own door. Indeed, +at this<!-- Page 320 --><span class="pagenum">{320}</span> very moment it was opened, and there was a glimmer of a candle +in the passage.</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Moore," she said, distinctly, when Lionel came back after +paying the cabman, "you are not going off like that, certainly not. You +must be starving; you must come up-stairs and have something to eat and +drink." "Jim," she said, addressing her brother, who was standing there, +candle in hand, "have you left any supper for us?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't touched a thing yet," said he. "I've been waiting for you I +don't know how long."</p> + +<p>"There's a truly heroic brother!" exclaimed the young lady, as she +pulled Lionel into the little lobby and shut the door. "What's enough +for two is enough for three. Come along, Mr. Moore; and now you've got +safely into a house, I think you'd much better have Jim's room for the +night—or the morning, rather? I'm sure Jim won't mind taking the sofa."</p> + +<p>"I? Not I!" said her brother, blowing out the candle as they entered the +lamp-lit room.</p> + +<p>It was a pretty room, and, with its blazing fire, looked very warm and +snug after the cold, raw night without. Miss Burgoyne threw off her +cloak and hat, and set to work to supplement the supper that was already +laid on the central table. Her brother Jim—who was a dawdling, +good-natured-looking lad of about fifteen, clad in a marvellous costume +of cricketing trousers, a "blazer" of overpowering blue and yellow +stripes, and an Egyptian fez set far back on his forehead—helped her to +explore the contents of the cupboard; and very soon the three of them +were seated at a comfortable and most welcome little banquet. Indeed, +the charming little feast was almost sumptuous; insomuch that Lionel was +inclined to ask himself whether Miss Burgoyne, who was an astute young +lady, had not foreseen the possibility of this small supper-party before +leaving home in the afternoon. The ousters, for example: did Miss +Burgoyne order a dozen ousters for herself alone every evening?—for her +brother declared that he never touched, and would not touch, any such +thing. Lionel observed that his own photograph, which he had recently +given her, had been accorded the place of honor on the mantel-shelf; +another portrait of him, which she had bought, stood on the piano. But +why these trivial suspicions, when she was so kind and hospitable and +considerate?<!-- Page 321 --><span class="pagenum">{321}</span> She pressed things on him; she herself filled up his +glass; she was as merry as possible, and talkative and good-humored.</p> + +<p>"Just to think we've known each other so long, and you've never been in +my house before!" she said. "That's a portrait of my younger sister +you're looking at—isn't she pretty? It's a pastel—Miss Corkran's. Of +course she is not allowed to sit up for me; only Jim does that; he keeps +me company at supper-time, for I couldn't sit down all by myself, could +I, in the middle of the night? Oh, yes, you must have some more. I know +gentlemen are afraid of champagne in a house looked after by a woman; +but that's all right; that was sent me as a Christmas present by Mr. +Lehmann."</p> + +<p>"It is excellent," Lionel assured her, "but I must keep my head clear if +I am to find my way into Park Lane; after that, it will be easy enough +getting home."</p> + +<p>"But there's Jim's room," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you," he said; "I shall get down there without any +trouble."</p> + +<p>And then she went to a cabinet that formed part of a book-case, and +returned with a cigar-box in her hand.</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of these," she said. "They are some I got when papa +was last in town, and he seemed to think them tolerable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I sha'n't smoke, thanks; no, no, I couldn't think of it!" he +protested. "You'll soon be coming down again to breakfast."</p> + +<p>"To please me, Mr. Moore," she said, somewhat authoritatively. "I assure +you there's nothing in the world I like so much as the smell of cigars."</p> + +<p>What was she going to say next? But he took a cigar and lit it, and +again she filled up his glass, which he had not emptied; and they set to +talking about the Royal Academy of Music, while she nibbled Lychee nuts, +and her brother Jim subsided into a French novel. Miss Burgoyne was a +sharp and shrewd observer; she had had a sufficiently varied career, and +had come through some amusing experiences. She talked well, but on this +evening, or morning, rather, always on the good-natured side; if she +described the foibles of any one with whom she had come in contact, it +was with a laugh. Lionel was inclined to forget that outer world of +thick, cold fog, so warm and pleasant was the bright and pretty room, so +easily the time seemed to pass.<!-- Page 322 --><span class="pagenum">{322}</span></p> + +<p>However, he had to tear himself away in the end. She insisted on his +having a muffler of Jim's to wrap round his throat; both she and her +brother went down-stairs to see him out; and then, with a hasty +good-bye, he plunged into the dark. He had some difficulty in crossing +to the top of Park Lane, for there were wagons come in from the country +waiting for the daylight to give them some chance of moving on; but +eventually he found himself in the well-known thoroughfare, and +thereafter had not much trouble in getting down to his rooms in +Piccadilly. This time he went to bed without sitting up in front of the +fire in aimless reverie.</p> + +<p>This was not the last he was to hear of that adventure. Two days +afterwards the foreshadowed paragraph appeared in an evening paper; and +from thence it was copied into all the weekly periodicals that deal more +or less directly with theatrical affairs. It was headed "'The Squire's +Daughter' in Wednesday Night's Fog," and gave a minute and somewhat +highly colored account of Miss Burgoyne's experiences on the night in +question; while the fact of her having been escorted by Mr. Lionel Moore +was pointed to as another instance of the way in which professional +people were always ready to help one another. That this account emanated +in the first place from Miss Burgoyne herself, there could be no doubt +whatever; for there were certain incidents—as, for example, the cab +wheels getting up on the pavement and the near upsetting of the +vehicle—which were only known to herself and her companion; but Lionel +did not in his own mind accuse her of having directly instigated its +publication. He thought it was more likely one of the advertising tricks +of Mr. Lehmann, who was always trying to keep the chief members of his +company well before the public. It was the first time, certainly, that +he, Lionel, had had his name coupled (unprofessionally) with that of +Miss Burgoyne in the columns of a newspaper; but was that of any +consequence? People might think what they liked. He had grown a little +reckless and careless of late.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf322" id="illusf322"></a> +<img src="images/illusf322.jpg" alt=""And again she filled up his glass, which he had not +emptied."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>And again she filled up his glass, which he had not +emptied.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>But a much more important event was now about to happen which the +theatrical papers would have been glad to get for their weekly gossip, +had the persons chiefly concerned thought fit. Just at this time there +was being formed in London, under distinguished patronage, a +loan-collection of arms and embroideries <!-- Page 323 --><span class="pagenum">{323}</span>of the Middle Ages, and +there was to be a Private View on the Saturday preceding the opening of +the exhibition to the public. Among others, Miss Burgoyne received a +couple of cards of invitation, whereupon she came to Lionel, told him +that her brother Jim was going to see some football match on that day, +explained that she was very anxious to have a look at the precious +needle-work, and virtually asked him to take her to the show. Lionel +hung back; the crowd at this Private View was sure to include a number +of fashionable folk; there might be one or two people there whom he +would rather not meet. But Miss Burgoyne was gently persuasive, not to +say pertinacious; he could not well refuse; finally it was arranged he +should call for her about half past one o'clock on the Saturday, so that +they might have a look round before the crush began in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Trust an actress to know how to dress for any possible occasion! When he +called for her, he found her attired in a most charming costume; though, +to be sure, when she was at last ready to go, he may have thought her +furs a trifle too magnificent for her height. They drove in a hansom to +Bond Street. There were few people in the rooms, certainly no one whom +he knew; she could study those gorgeous treasures of embroidery from +Italy and the East, he could examine the swords and daggers and coats of +mail, as they pleased. And when they had lightly glanced round the +rooms, he was for getting away again; but she was bent on remaining +until the world should arrive, and declared that she had not half +exhausted the interest of the various cases.</p> + +<p>As it chanced, the first persons he saw whom he knew were Miss Georgie +Lestrange and her brother; and Miss Georgie, not perceiving that any one +was with him (for Miss Burgoyne was at the moment feasting her eyes on +some rich-hued Persian stuffs), came up to him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Moore, you have quite disappeared of late," the ruddy-haired +damsel said, quite reproachfully. "Where have you been? What have you +been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you ever read the newspapers, Miss Lestrange?" he said. "I have +been advertised as being on view every night at the New Theatre."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean that. Lady Adela says you have quite forsaken her."<!-- Page 324 --><span class="pagenum">{324}</span></p> + +<p>"Is Lady Adela to be here this afternoon?" he asked, in an off-hand way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly," replied Miss Georgie. "She is going everywhere just +now, in order to put everything into her new novel. It is to be a +perfectly complete picture of London life as we see it around us."</p> + +<p>"That is, the London between Bond Street and Campden Hill?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, all London is too big for one canvas. You must cut it into +sections. I dare say she will take up Whitechapel in her next book."</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne turned from the glass case to seek her companion, and +seemed a little surprised to find him talking to these two strangers. It +was the swiftest glance; but Miss Georgie divined the situation in an +instant.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye for the present," she said, and she and her brother passed on.</p> + +<p>And now he was more anxious than ever to get away. If Lady Adela and her +sisters were coming to this exhibition, was it not highly probable that +Honnor Cunyngham might be of the party? He did not wish to meet any one +of them; especially did he not care to meet them while he was acting as +escort to Miss Burgoyne. There were reasons which he could hardly +define; he only knew that the clicking of the turnstile on the stair was +an alarming sound, and that he regarded each new group of visitors, as +they came into the room, with a furtive apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," Miss Burgoyne said, at length, "let us go." And on the +staircase she again said: "What is it? Are you afraid of meeting the +mamma of some girl you've jilted? Or some man to whom you owe money for +cards? Ah, Master Lionel, when are you going to reform and lead a steady +and respectable life?"</p> + +<p>He breathed more freely when he was outside; here, in the crowd, if he +met any one to whom he did not wish to speak, he could be engaged with +his companion and pass on without recognition. He proposed to Miss +Burgoyne that they should walk home, by way of Piccadilly and Park Lane, +and that young lady cheerfully assented. It was quite a pleasant +afternoon, for London in midwinter. The setting sun shone with a +dull-copper<!-- Page 325 --><span class="pagenum">{325}</span> lustre along the fronts of the tall buildings, and over the +trees of the Green Park hung clouds that were glorified by the +intervening red-hued mists. The air was crisp and cold—what a blessing +it was to be able to breathe!</p> + +<p>Lionel was silent and absorbed; he only said, "Yes?" "Really!" "Indeed!" +in answer to the vivacious chatter of his companion, who was in the most +animated spirits. His brows were drawn down; his look was more sombre +than it ought to have been, considering who was with him. Perhaps he was +thinking of the crowded rooms they had recently left, and of the friends +who might now be arriving there, from whom he had voluntarily isolated +himself. Had they, had any one of them, counselled him to keep within +his own sphere? Well, he had taken that advice; here he was—walking +with Miss Burgoyne!</p> + +<p>All of a sudden that young lady stopped and turned to the window of a +jeweller's shop; and of course he followed. No wonder her eyes +had been attracted; here were all kinds of beautiful things and +splendors—tiaras, coronets, necklaces, pendants, bracelets, earrings, +bangles, brooches—set with all manner of precious stones, the clear, +radiant diamond, the purple amethyst, the sea-green emerald, the mystic +opal, the blue-black sapphire, the clouded pearl. Her raptured vision +wandered from tray to tray, but it was a comparatively trifling article +that finally claimed her attention—a tiny finger-ring set with small +rubies and brilliants.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do look at this!" she said to her companion. "Did you ever see such +a love of a ring?—what a perfect engagement-ring it would make!"</p> + +<p>Then what mad, half-sullen, half-petulant, and wholly reckless impulse +sprang into his brain!</p> + +<p>"Well, will you wear that as an engagement-ring, if I give it to you?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>She looked up, startled, amused, but not displeased.</p> + +<p>"Why, really—really—that <i>is</i> a question to ask!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Come along in and see if it fits your finger—come along!" and +therewith Miss Burgoyne, a little bewildered and still inclined to +laugh, found herself at the jeweller's counter. Was it a joke? Oh, +certainly not. Lionel was quite serious and matter of fact. The tray was +produced. The ring was taken out.<!-- Page 326 --><span class="pagenum">{326}</span> For a moment she hesitated as to +which finger to try it on, but overcame that shyness and placed it on +the third finger of her left hand and said it fitted admirably.</p> + +<p>"Just keep it where it is, then," he said; and then he added a word or +two to the jeweller, whom he knew; and he and his companion left the +shop.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lionel, what an idea!" said Miss Burgoyne, with her eyes bent +modestly on the pavement. "If I had fancied you knew that man, do you +think I would ever have entered the place? What must he think? What +would any one think?—an engagement in the middle of the streets of +London!"</p> + +<p>"Plenty of witnesses to the ceremony, that's all," said he, lightly.</p> + +<p>Nay, was there not a curious sense of possession, now that he walked +alongside this little, bright person in the magnificent furs? He had +acquired something by this simple transaction; he would be less lonely +now; he would mate with his kind. But he did not choose to look far into +the future. Here he was walking along Piccadilly, with a cheerful and +smiling and prettily costumed young lady by his side who had just been +so kind as to accept an engagement-ring from him, and what more could he +want?</p> + +<p>"Lionel," she said, still with modestly downcast eyes, "this mustn't be +known to any human being—no, not to a single human being—not yet, I +mean. I will get a strip of white india-rubber to cover the ring, so +that no one shall be able to see it on the stage."</p> + +<p>Perhaps he recalled the fact that recently she had been wearing another +ring similarly concealed from the public gaze; or perhaps he had +forgotten that little circumstance. What did it matter? Did anything +matter? He only knew he had pledged himself to marry Kate +Burgoyne—enough.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h4>IN DIRER STRAITS.</h4> + + +<p>Now, when a young man, in whatever wayward mood of petulance or defiance +or wounded self-love, chooses to play tricks<!-- Page 327 --><span class="pagenum">{327}</span> with his own fate, he is +pretty sure to discover that sooner or later he has himself to reckon +with—his other and saner self that will arise and refuse to be +silenced. And this awakening came almost directly to Lionel Moore. Even +as he went down to the theatre that same evening, he began to wonder +whether Miss Burgoyne would really be wearing the ring he had given her. +Or would she not rather consider the whole affair a joke?—not a very +clever joke, indeed, but at least something to be put on one side and +forgotten. She had been inclined to laugh at the idea of two people +becoming engaged to each other in the middle of the London streets. A +life-pledge offered and accepted in front of a window in +Piccadilly!—why, such was the way of comic opera, not of the actual +world. Jests of that kind were all very well in the theatre, but they +were best confined to the stage. And would not Miss Burgoyne understand +that on a momentary impulse he had yielded to a fit of half-sullen +recklessness, and would she not be quite ready and willing to release +him?</p> + +<p>But when, according to custom, he went into her room that evening, he +soon became aware that Miss Burgoyne did not at all treat this matter as +a jest.</p> + +<p>"See!" she said to him, with a becoming shyness—and she showed him how +cleverly she had covered her engagement-ring with a little band of +flesh-tinted india-rubber, "No one will be able to see it? and I sha'n't +have to take it off at all. Why, I could play Galatea, and not a human +being would notice that the statue was wearing a ring!"</p> + +<p>She seemed very proud and pleased and happy, though she spoke in an +undertone, for Jane was within earshot. As for him, he did not say +anything. Of course he was bound to stand by what he had done and suffer +the consequences, whatever they might be. When he left the room and went +up-stairs into the wings, it was in a vague sort of stupefaction; but +here were the immediate exigencies of the stage, and perhaps it was +better not to look too far ahead.</p> + +<p>But it was with just a little sense of shame that he found, when the +piece was over, and they were ready to leave the theatre, that Miss +Burgoyne expected him to accompany her on her way home. If only he had +had sufficient courage, he might have said to her,<!-- Page 328 --><span class="pagenum">{328}</span></p> + +<p>"Look here; we are engaged to be married, and I'm not going to back out; +I will fulfil my promise whenever you please. But for goodness' sake +don't expect me to play the lover—off the stage as well as on. +Sweethearting is a silly sort of business; don't we have enough every +evening before the footlights? Let us conduct ourselves as rational +human creatures—when we're not paid to make fools of ourselves. What +good will it do if I drive home with you in this hansom? Do you expect +me to put my arm round your waist? No, thanks; there isn't much novelty +in that kind of thing for Grace Mainwaring and Harry Thornhill."</p> + +<p>And when eventually they did arrive in Edgeware Road, she could not +induce him to enter the house and have some bit of supper with herself +and her brother Jim.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do to-morrow, then?" she asked. "Will you call +for me in the morning and go to church with me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall stir out to-morrow," he said, "I feel rather out +of sorts; and I fancy I may try what a day in bed will do."</p> + +<p>"How can you expect to be well if you sit up all night playing cards?" +she demanded, with reason on her side. "However, there's to be no more +of that now. So you won't come in—not for a quarter of an hour?"</p> + +<p>She rang the bell.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lionel, by the way, do you think Jim should know?" she asked, with +her eyes cast down in maiden modesty.</p> + +<p>"Just as you like," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't seem to take any interest!" she exclaimed, with a pout. +"I wonder what Percy Miles will say when he hears of it. Oh, my +goodness, I'm afraid to think!"</p> + +<p>"What he will say won't matter very much," Lionel remarked, +indifferently.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy! I'm sorry for him," she said, apparently with a little +compunction, perhaps even regret.</p> + +<p>The door was opened by her brother.</p> + +<p>"Sure you won't come in?" she finally asked. "Well, I shall be at home +all to-morrow afternoon, if you happen to be up in this direction. +Good-night!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said he, taking her outstretched hand for a<!-- Page 329 --><span class="pagenum">{329}</span> second; then +he turned and walked away. There had not been much love-making—so far.</p> + +<p>But he did not go straight to his lodgings. He wandered away aimlessly +through the dark streets. He felt sick at heart—not especially because +of this imbroglio into which he had walked with open eyes, for that did +not seem to matter much, one way or the other. But everything appeared +to have gone wrong with him since Nina had left; and the worst of it was +that he was gradually ceasing to care how things went, right or wrong. +At this moment, for example, he ought to have been thinking of the +situation he had created for himself, and resolving either to get out of +it before more harm was done, or to loyally fulfil his contract by +cultivating what affection for Miss Burgoyne was possible in the +circumstances. But he was not thinking of Miss Burgoyne at all. He was +thinking of Nina. He was thinking how hard it was that whenever his +fancy went in search of her—away to Malta, to Australia, to the United +States, as it might be—he could not hope to find a Nina whom he could +recognize. For she would be quite changed now. His imagination could not +picture to himself a Nina grown grave and sad-eyed, perhaps furtively +hiding her sorrow, fearing to encounter her friends. The Nina whom he +had always known was a light-hearted and laughing companion, eagerly +talkative, a smile on her parted lips, affection, kindliness ever +present in her shining, soft, dark eyes. Sometimes silent, too; +sometimes, again, singing a fragment of one of the old familiar +folk-songs of her youth. What was that one with the refrain, "<i>Io te +voglio bene assaje, e tu non pienz' a me</i>"?—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">"La notta tutte dormeno,</div> +<div class="versei1">E io che buò dormire!</div> +<div class="versei1">Pensanno a Nenna mia</div> +<div class="versei1">Mme sent' ascevolì.</div> +<div class="verse">Li quarte d' ora sonano</div> +<div class="versei1">A uno, a doje e tre...</div> +<div class="versei1">Io te voglio bene assaje,</div> +<div class="versei1">E tu non pienz' a me!"</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>—Look, now, at this beautiful morning—the wide bay all of silver and +azure—Vesuvius sending its column of dusky smoke into the cloudless +sky—the little steamer churning up the clear as it starts away from the +quay. Ah, we have escaped<!-- Page 330 --><span class="pagenum">{330}</span> from you, good Maestro Pandiani? there shall +be no grumblings and incessant repetitions to-day? no, nor odors of +onions coming up the narrow and dirty stairs: here is the open world, +all shining, and the sweet air blowing by, and Battista trying to sell +his useless canes, and the minstrels playing "Santa Lucia" most +sentimentally, as though they had never played it before. Whither, then, +Nina? To Castellamare or Sorrento, with their pink and yellow houses, +their terraces and gardens, their vine-smothered bowers, or rather to +the filmy island out yonder, that seems to move and tremble in the heat? +A couple of words in their own tongue suffice to silence the importunate +coral-girls; we climb the never-ending steps; behold, a cool and +gracious balcony, with windows looking far out over the quivering plain +of the sea. Then the soup, and the boiled corn, and the +<i>caccia-cavallo</i>—you Neapolitan girl!—and nothing will serve you but +that orris-scented stuff that you fondly believe to be honest wine. You +will permit a cigarette? Then shall we descend to the beach again, and +get into a boat, and lie down, and find ourselves shot into the Blue +Grotto—find ourselves floating between heaven and earth in a +hollow-sounding globe of azure flame?... Dreams—dreams! <i>"Io te voglio +bene assaje, e tu non pienz' a me!</i>"</p> + +<p>During the first period of Miss Burgoyne's engagement to Lionel Moore, +all went well. Jane, her dresser, had quite a wonderful time of it; her +assiduous and arduous ministrations were received with the greatest +good-nature; now she was never told, if she hurt her mistress in lacing +up a dress, that she deserved to have her face slapped. Miss Burgoyne +was amiability itself towards the whole company, so far as she had any +relations with them: and at her little receptions in the evening she was +all brightness and merriment, even when she had to join in the +conversation from behind the heavy <i>portière</i>. Whether this small +coterie in the theatre guessed at the true state of affairs, it is hard +to say; but at least Miss Burgoyne did not trouble herself much about +concealment. She called her affianced lover "Lionel," no matter who +chanced to be present; and she would ask him to help her to hand the +tea, just as if he already belonged to her. Moreover, she told him that +Mr. Percival Miles had some suspicion of what had happened.</p> + +<p>"Not that I would admit anything definite," said the young<!-- Page 331 --><span class="pagenum">{331}</span> lady. "There +will be time enough for that. And I did not want a scene. But I'm sorry. +It does seem a pity that so much devotion should meet with no requital."</p> + +<p>"Devotion!" said Lionel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course you don't know what devotion is. Your fashionable friends +have taught you what good form is; you are <i>blasé</i>, indifferent; it's +not women, it's cards, that interest you. You have no fresh feeling +left," continued this <i>ingénue</i> of the greenroom. "You have been so +spoiled—"</p> + +<p>"I see he's up at the Garden Club," said Lionel, to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The young gentleman you were just speaking of."</p> + +<p>"Percy Miles? What does he want with an all-night club?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, I suppose he is not likely to get in," she said, turning to +the tall mirror. "Percy is very nice—just the nicest boy I know—but +I'm afraid he is not particularly clever. He has written some verses in +one or two magazines—of course you can't expect me to criticise them +severely, considering who was the 'only begetter' of them—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that has nothing to do with it," Lionel interrupted again. "He is +sure to get in. There's no qualification at the Garden, so long as +you're all right socially. There are plenty such as he in the club +already."</p> + +<p>"But why does he want to get in?" she said, wheeling round. "Why should +he want to sit up all night playing cards? Now tell me honestly, Lionel, +it isn't your doing! You didn't ask him to join, did you? You can't be +treasuring up any feeling of vengeance—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense; I had nothing to do with it. I saw his name in the +candidates' book quite by accident. And the election is by +committee—he'll get in all right. What does he want with it?—oh, I +don't know. Perhaps he has been disappointed in love and seeks for a +little consolation in card-playing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you always sneer at love—because you don't know anything about +it," she said, snappishly. "Or perhaps you are an extinct volcano. I +suppose you have sighed your heart out like a furnace—and for a +foreigner, I'll be bound!"</p> + +<p>Nay, it was hardly to be wondered at that Miss Burgoyne should<!-- Page 332 --><span class="pagenum">{332}</span> be +indignant with so lukewarm and reluctant a lover, who received her coy +advances with coldness, and was only decently civil to her when they +talked of wholly indifferent matters. The mischief of it was that, in +casting about for some key to the odd situation, she took it into her +head to become jealous of Nina; and many were the bitter things she +managed to say about foreigners generally, and about Italians in +particular, and Italian singers, and so forth. Of course Miss Ross was +never openly mentioned, but Lionel understood well enough at whom these +covert innuendoes were hurled; and sometimes his eyes burned with a fire +far other than that which should be in a lover's eyes when contemplating +his mistress. Indeed, it was a dangerous amusement for Miss Burgoyne to +indulge in. It was easy to wound; it might be less easy to efface the +memory of those wounds. And then there was a kind of devilish ingenuity +about her occult taunts. For example, she dared not say that doubtless +Miss Nina Ross had gone away back to Naples, and had taken up with a +sweetheart, with whom she was now walking about; but she described the +sort of young man calculated to capture the fancy of an Italian girl.</p> + +<p>"The seedy swell of Naples or Rome—he is irresistible to the Italian +girl," she said, on one occasion. "You know him; his shirt open at the +neck down almost to his chest—his trousers tight at the knee and +enormously wide at the foot—a poncho-looking kind of cloak, with a +greasy Astrachan collar—a tall French hat, rather shabby—a face the +color of paste—an odor of cigarettes and garlic—dirty hands—and a +cane. I suppose the theatre is too expensive, so he goes to the public +gardens, and strolls up and down, and takes off his hat with a sweep to +people he pretends to recognize; or perhaps he sits in front of a +<i>café</i>, with a glass of cheap brandy before him, an evening journal in +his hands, and a toothpick in his mouth."</p> + +<p>"You seem to have made his very particular acquaintance," said he, with +a touch of scorn. "Did he give you his arm when you were walking +together in the public gardens?"</p> + +<p>"Give <i>me</i> his arm?" she exclaimed. "I would not allow such a creature +to come within twenty yards of me! I prefer people who use soap."</p> + +<p>"What a pity it is they can't invent soap for purifying the mind!" he +said, venomously; and he went out, and spoke no more to her during the +rest of that evening.<!-- Page 333 --><span class="pagenum">{333}</span></p> + +<p>Matters went from bad to worse: for Miss Burgoyne, finding nothing else +that could account for his habitual depression of spirits, his +occasional irritability and obvious indifference towards herself, made +bold to assume that he was secretly, even if unconsciously, fretting +over Nina's absence; and her jealousy grew more and more angry and +vindictive, until it carried her beyond all bounds. For now she began to +say disparaging or malicious things about Miss Ross, and that without +subterfuge. At last there came a climax.</p> + +<p>She had sent for him (for he did not invariably go into her room before +the beginning of the last act, as once he had done), and, as she was +still in the inner apartment, he took a chair, and stretched out his +legs, and flicked a spot or two of dust from his silver-buckled shoes.</p> + +<p>"What hour did you get home <i>this</i> morning?" she called to him, in +rather a saucy tone.</p> + +<p>"I don't know exactly."</p> + +<p>"And don't care. You are leading a pretty life," she went on, rather +indiscreetly, for Jane was with her. "Distraction! Distraction from +what? You sit up all night; you eat supper at all hours of the morning; +you get dyspepsia and indigestion; and of course you become +low-spirited—then there must be distraction. If you would lead a +wholesome life you wouldn't need any distraction."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't worry!" he said, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"What's come over that Italian friend of yours—that Miss Ross?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"You've never heard anything of her?"</p> + +<p>"No—nothing."</p> + +<p>"Don't you call that rather cool on her part? You introduce her to this +theatre, you get her an engagement, you befriend her in every way, and +all of a sudden she bolts, without a thank you!"</p> + +<p>"I presume Miss Ross is the best judge of her own actions," said he, +stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't be so touchy!" said Grace Thornhill, as she came forth +in all the splendor of her bridal array, and at once proceeded to the +mirror. "But I can quite understand your not liking having been treated +in that fashion. People often<!-- Page 334 --><span class="pagenum">{334}</span> are deceived in their friends, aren't +they? And there's nothing so horrid as ingratitude. Certainly she ought +to have been grateful to you, considering the fuss you made about +her—the whole company remarked it!"</p> + +<p>He did not answer; he did not even look her way; but there was an angry +cloud gathering on his brows.</p> + +<p>"No; very ungrateful, I call it," she continued, in the same dangerously +supercilious tone. "You take up some creature you know nothing about and +befriend her, and even make a spectacle of yourself through the way you +run after her, and all at once she says, 'Good-bye? I've had enough of +you'—and that's all the explanation you have!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, leave Miss Ross alone, will you?" he said, in accents that might +have warned her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she was unheeding; perhaps she was stung into retort; at all +events, she turned and faced him.</p> + +<p>"Leave her alone?" she said, with a flash of defiance in her look. "It +is you who ought to leave her alone! She has cheated you—why should you +show temper? Why should you sulk with every one, simply because an +Italian organ-grinder has shown you what she thinks of you? Oh, I +suppose the heavens must fall, because you've lost your pretty +plaything—that made a laughing-stock of you? You don't even know where +she is—I can tell you!—wandering along in front of the pavement at +Brighton, in a green petticoat and a yellow handkerchief on her head, +and singing to a concertina! That's about it, I should think; and very +likely the seedy swell is waiting for her in their lodgings—waiting for +her to bring the money home!"</p> + +<p>Lionel rose; he said not a word; but the pallor of his face and the fire +in his eyes were terrible to see. Plainly enough she saw them; but she +was only half-terrified; she seemed aroused to a sort of whirlwind of +passion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, say it!" she cried. "Why don't you say it? Do you think I don't see +it in your eyes? '<i>I hate you!</i>'—that's what you want to say; and you +haven't the courage—you're a man, and you haven't the courage!"</p> + +<p>That look did not depart from his face; but he stood in silence for a +second, as if considering whether he should speak. His self-control +infuriated her all the more.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I care?" she exclaimed, with panting breath.<!-- Page 335 --><span class="pagenum">{335}</span> "Do you +think I care whether you hate me or not—whether you go sighing all day +after your painted Italian doll? And do you imagine I want to wear this +thing—that it is for this I will put up with every kind of insult and +neglect? Not I!"</p> + +<p>She pulled the bit of india-rubber from her finger; she dragged off the +engagement-ring and dashed it on the floor in front of his feet—while +her eyes sparkled with rage, and the cherry-paste hardly concealed the +whiteness of her lips.</p> + +<p>"Take it—and give it to the organ-grinder!" she called, in the madness +of her rage.</p> + +<p>He did not even look whither the ring had rolled. Without a single word +he quite calmly turned and opened the door and passed outside. Nay, he +was so considerate as to leave the door open for her; for he knew she +would be wanted on the stage directly. He himself went up into the +wings—in his gay costume of satin and silk and powdered wig and +ruffles.</p> + +<p>Had the audience only known, during the last act of this comedy, what +fierce passions were agitating the breasts of the two chief performers +in this pretty play, they might have looked on with added interest. How +could they tell that the gallant and dashing Harry Thornhill was in his +secret heart filled with anger and disdain whenever he came near his +charming sweetheart? how could they divine that the coquettish Grace +Mainwaring was not thinking of her wiles and graces at all, but was on +the road to a most piteous repentance? The one was saying to himself, +"Very well, let the vixen go to the devil; a happy riddance!" and the +other was saying, "Oh, dear me, what have I done?—why did he put me in +such a passion?" But the public in the stalls were all unknowing. They +looked on and laughed, or looked on and sat solemn and stolid, as +happened to be their nature; and then they slightly clapped their +pale-gloved hands, and rose and donned their cloaks and coats. They had +forgotten what the piece was about by the time they reached their +broughams.</p> + +<p>Later on, at the stage-door, whither a four-wheeler had been brought for +her, Miss Burgoyne lingered. Presently Lionel came along. He would have +passed her, but she intercepted him; and in the dusk outside she thrust +forth her hand.</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive me, Lionel? I ask your forgiveness," she said, in an +undertone that was suggestive of tears. "I don't<!-- Page 336 --><span class="pagenum">{336}</span> know what made me say +such things—I didn't mean them—I'm very sorry. See," she continued, +and in the dull lamp-light she showed him her ungloved hand, with the +engagement-ring in its former place—"I have put on the ring again. Of +course, you are hurt and offended; but you are more forgiving than a +woman—a man should be. I will never say a word against her again; I +should have remembered how you were companions before she came to +England; and I can understand your affection for her, and your—your +regret about her going away. Now will you be generous?—will you forgive +me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, that's all right," he said—as he was bound to say.</p> + +<p>"But that's not enough. Will you come now and have some supper with Jim +and me, and we'll talk about everything—except that one thing?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks, I can't; I have an engagement," he made answer.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a moment. Then she offered him her hand again.</p> + +<p>"Well, at all events, bygones are to be bygones," she said. "And +to-morrow I'm going to begin to knit a woollen vest for you, that you +can slip on before you come out. Good-night, dearest!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night," he said; and he opened the door of the cab for her and +told the cabman her address; then—rather slowly and absently—he set +out for the Garden Club.</p> + +<p>The first person he beheld at the Garden Club was Octavius Quirk—of +course at the supper-table.</p> + +<p>"Going to Lady Adela's on the 3d?" said the bilious-looking Quirk, in a +gay manner.</p> + +<p>"I should want to be asked first," was Lionel's simple rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the other, complacently, "I heard you had not been much there +lately. A charming house—most interesting—quite delightful to see +people of their station so eagerly devoted to the arts. Music, painting, +literature—all the elegancies of life—and all touched with a light and +graceful hand. You should read some of Lady Adela's descriptions in her +new book—not seen it?—no?—ah, well, it will be out before long for +the general world to read. As I was saying, her descriptions of places +abroad are simply charming—charming. There's where the practised +traveller comes in; no heavy and laborious work; the striking<!-- Page 337 --><span class="pagenum">{337}</span> +peculiarities hit off with the most delicate appreciation: the <i>fine +fleur</i> of difference noted everywhere. Your bourgeois goes and rams his +bull's head against everything he meets; he's in wonderment and ecstacy +almost before he lands; he stares with astonishment at a fisherwoman on +Calais pier and weeps maudlin tears over the masonry of the Sainte +Chapelle. Then Lady Adela's style—marvellous, marvellous. I give you my +word as an expert! Full of distinction; choice; fastidious; penetrated +everywhere by a certain <i>je ne sais quoi</i> of dexterity and aptitude; +each word charged with color, as a critic might say. You have not seen +any of the sheets?" continued Mr. Quirk, with his mouth full of steak +and olives. "Dear me! You haven't quarrelled with Lady Adela, have you? +I did hear there was some little disappointment that you did not get +Lady Sybil's 'Soldiers' Marching Song' introduced at the New Theatre; +but I dare say the composer wouldn't have his operetta interfered with. +Even you are not all-powerful. However, Lady Adela is unreasonable if +she has taken offence: I will see that it is put right."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't trouble you—thanks!" said Lionel, rather coldly; and then, +having eaten a biscuit and drank a glass of claret and water, he went +up-stairs to the card-room.</p> + +<p>There were two tables occupied—one party playing whist, the other +poker; to the latter Lionel idly made his way.</p> + +<p>"Coming in, Moore?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'll come in. What are you playing?"</p> + +<p>"Usual thing: sixpenny ante and five-shilling limit."</p> + +<p>"Let's have it a shilling ante and a sovereign limit," he proposed, as +they made room for him at the table, and to this they agreed, and the +game began.</p> + +<p>At first Lionel could get no hands at all, but he never went out; +sometimes he drew four cards to an ace or a queen, sometimes he took the +whole five; while his losses, if steady, were not material. Occasionally +he bluffed, and got a small pot; but it was risky, as he was distinctly +in a run of bad luck. At last he was dealt nine, ten, knave, queen, ace, +in different suite. This looked better.</p> + +<p>"How many?" asked the dealer.</p> + +<p>"I will take one card, if you please," he said, throwing away the ace.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the card, as he put it into his hand: it was a<!-- Page 338 --><span class="pagenum">{338}</span> king; he +had a straight. Then he watched what the others were taking. The player +on his left also asked for one—a doubtful intimation. His next neighbor +asked for two—probably he had three of a kind. The dealer threw up his +cards. The age had already taken three—no doubt he had started with the +common or garden pair.</p> + +<p>It was Lionel's turn to bet.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I will just go five shillings on this little lot."</p> + +<p>"I will see your five shillings and go a sovereign better," said his +neighbor.</p> + +<p>"That's twenty-five shillings for me to come in," said he who had taken +two cards. "Well, I'll raise you another sovereign."</p> + +<p>The age went out.</p> + +<p>"Two sovereigns against me," said Lionel "Very well, then, I'll just +raise you another."</p> + +<p>"And another."</p> + +<p>This frightened the third player, who incontinently retired. There were +now left in only Lionel and his antagonist, and each had drawn but one +card. Now the guessing came in. Had the player been drawing to two +pairs, or to fill a flush or a straight; had he got a full hand; or was +he left with his two pairs; or, again, had he failed to fill, and was he +betting on a perfectly worthless lot? At all events the two combatants +kept hammering away at each other, until there was a goodly pile of gold +on the table, and the interest of the silent onlookers was +proportionately increased. Were both bluffing and each afraid to call +the other? Or was it that cruel and horrible combination—a full hand +betting against four of a kind?</p> + +<p>"I call you," said Lionel's enemy, at length, as he put down the last +sovereign he had on the table.</p> + +<p>"A straight," was Lionel's answer, as he showed his cards.</p> + +<p>"Not good enough, my boy," said the other, as he calmly ranged a flush +of diamonds before him.</p> + +<p>"Take away the money, Johnny," said Lionel, as if it were a matter of no +moment. "Or wait a second; I'll go you double or quits."</p> + +<p>But here there was an almost general protest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what's the use of that, Moore? It was the duke who<!-- Page 339 --><span class="pagenum">{339}</span> brought that +nonsense in, and it ought to be stopped; it spoils the game. Stick to +the legitimate thing. When you once begin that stupidity, there's no +stopping it."</p> + +<p>However, the player whom Lionel had challenged had no mind to deny him.</p> + +<p>"For the whole pot, or for what you put in?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Either—whichever you like," Lionel said, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"We'll say the whole pot, then: either I give you what's on the table, +or you double it," the lucky young gentleman made answer, as he +proceeded to count the sovereigns and chips—there was £28 in all. "Will +you call to me? Very well. What do you say this is?"—spinning a +sovereign.</p> + +<p>"I say it's a head," Lionel replied.</p> + +<p>"You've made a mistake, then—very sorry," said the other, as he raked +in his own money.</p> + +<p>"I owe you twenty-eight pounds, Johnny," Lionel said, without more ado; +and he took out his note-book and jotted it down. Then they went on +again.</p> + +<p>Now the game of poker is played in calm; happy is he who can preserve a +perfectly expressionless face through all its vicissitudes. But the game +of whiskey-poker (which is no game) is played amid vacuous excitement +and strong language and derisive laughter—especially towards four in +the morning. The whole of this little party seemed ready to go; in fact, +they had all risen and were standing round the table; but nevertheless +they remained, while successive hands were dealt, face upwards. At first +only a sovereign each was staked, then two, then three, then four, then +five—and there a line was drawn. But in staking five sovereigns every +time, with four to one against you, a considerable amount of money can +be lost; and Lionel had been in ill-luck all the sitting. He did not, +however, seem to mind his losses, so long as the fierce spirit of +gambling could be kept up; and it was with no desperate effort at +recovering his money that he was always for increasing the stakes. He +would have sat down at the table and gone on indefinitely with this +frantic plunging, but that his companions declared they must go +directly; at last three of them solemnly swore they would have only one +round more. There were then left in only Lionel and the young fellow who +had won his £28 early in the evening.</p> + +<p>"Johnny, I'll go you once for twenty pounds," Lionel said.<!-- Page 340 --><span class="pagenum">{340}</span></p> + +<p>"Done with you."</p> + +<p>"I say, you fellows," protested one of the bystanders, "you'll smash up +this club—you'll have the police shutting it up as a gambling-hell. +Besides, you're breaking the rules; you'll have the committee expelling +you."</p> + +<p>"What rules?" Lionel's opponent asked, wheeling round.</p> + +<p>"The amount of the stakes, for one thing; and playing after three +o'clock, for another," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you ten pounds there's no limit as to time in the rules of +this club—I mean as regards card-playing," the young man said, boldly.</p> + +<p>"I take you."</p> + +<p>The bell was rung; a waiter was sent to fetch a List of Members; and +then he who had accepted the bet read out these solemn words:</p> + +<p>"Rule XIX. No higher stakes than guinea points shall ever be played for, +nor shall any card or billiard playing be permitted in the club after 3 +A.M."</p> + +<p>"There's your confounded money; what a fool of a club to let you stay +here all night if you like, and to stop card-playing at three!" He +turned to Lionel. "Well, Moore, what did you say: twenty pounds? I'll +just make it thirty, if you like, and see if I can't get back that ten."</p> + +<p>"Right with you, Johnny."</p> + +<p>The young man dealt the two hands: he found he had a pair of fours, +Lionel nothing but a king. The winner took over the loser's I.O.U. for +the £30, and then said,</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I'll go you double or quits."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly," said Lionel, "if you like. But I don't think you +should. You are the winner; stick to what you've got."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll give you a chance to get it all back," the young man said; and +this time Lionel dealt the cards. And again the latter lost—having to +substitute an I.O.U. for £60 for its predecessor.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I'll give you one more chance," the winner said, with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"I'm hanged if you shall, Johnny!" said one of the bystanders; and he +had the courage to intervene and snatch up the cards. "Come away to your +beds, boys, and stop that nonsense!<!-- Page 341 --><span class="pagenum">{341}</span> You've lost enough, Moore; and this +fellow would go on till Doomsday."</p> + +<p>But that insatiate young man was not to be beaten, after all. When they +were separating in the street below he drew Lionel aside.</p> + +<p>"Look here, old man, why should we be deprived of our final little +flutter? I want to give you a chance of getting back the whole thing."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, my good fellow," Lionel said, with a smile. "Why don't you +keep the money and rest content? Do you think I grudge it to you?"</p> + +<p>"Come—an absolutely last double or quits," said the other, and he +pulled out a coin from his pocket and put it between his two palms. +"Heads or tails?—and then go home happy!"</p> + +<p>"Well, since you challenge me, I'll go this once more, and this once +more only. I call a tail."</p> + +<p>The upper hand was removed: in the dull lamp-light the dusky gold coin +was examined.</p> + +<p>"It's a head," said Lionel, "so that's all right, and it's you who are +to go home happy. I'll settle up with you to-morrow evening. Do you want +this hansom?—I don't: I think I'd rather walk. Good-night, Johnny."</p> + +<p>It was a long price to pay for a few hours of distraction and +forgetfulness; still, he had had these; and the loss of the money, <i>per +se</i>, did not affect him much. He walked away home. When he reached his +rooms, there were some letters for him lying on the table; he took them +and looked at them; he noticed one handwriting that used to be rather +more familiar. This letter he opened first.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="right"><span class="sc">Aivron Lodge, Campden Hill</span>, <i>Feb.</i> 23.</p> + +<p> "<span class="sc">My dear Mr. Moore</span>,—It is really quite shocking the way you have + neglected us of late, and I, at least, cannot imagine any reason. + Perhaps we have both been in fault. My sisters and I have all been + very busy, in our several ways; and then it is awkward you should + have only the one Sunday evening free. But there, let <i>bygones</i> be + <i>bygones</i>, and come and dine with us on Sunday, March 3, at 8. + Forgive the short notice; I've had some trouble in trying to secure + one, or two people whom I don't know very well, and I couldn't fix + earlier. The fact is, I want it to be an <i>intellectual</i> little + dinner; and who could represent music and the drama so fitly as + yourself? I want only people with brains at it—perhaps you + wouldn't include Rockminster in that category, but I must have him + to help me, as my husband is away in Scotland looking after his + beasts. Now do be good-natured, dear Mr. Moore, and say you will + come.<!-- Page 342 --><span class="pagenum">{342}</span></p> + +<p> "And I am going to try your goodness another way. You remember + speaking to me about a friend of yours who was connected with + newspapers, and who knew some of the London correspondents of the + provincial journals? Could you oblige me with his address and the + correct spelling of his name? I presume he would not consider it + out of the way if I wrote to him as being a friend of yours, and + enclosed a card of invitation. I want to have <i>all</i> the + <i>talents</i>—that is, all of them I can get to come and honor the + house of a mere novice and beginner. I did not catch either your + friend's surname or his Christian name.</p> + +<span class="tablenum"><span class="sc">Adela Cunyngham</span>."</span> +<p class="maxind">Ever yours sincerely,</p> + +</div> + +<p>He tossed the letter on to the table.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," he said to himself, "how much of that is meant for me, and +how much for Maurice Mangan and newspaper paragraphs."</p> + +<p>But it was high time to get to bed; and that he did without any serious +fretting over his losses at the Garden Club. These had amounted, on the +whole gamble, to nearly £170; which might have made him pause. For did +he not owe responsibilities elsewhere? If he went on at this rate (he +ought to have been asking himself) whence was likely to come the money +for the plenishing of a certain small household—an elegant little +establishment towards which Miss Kate Burgoyne was no doubt now looking +forward with pleased and expectant eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h4>IN A DEN OF LIONS, AND THEREAFTER.</h4> + + +<p>When Maurice Mangan, according to appointment, called at Lionel's rooms +on the evening of Lady Adela Cunyngham's dinner-party, he was surprised +to find his friend seated in front of the fire, wrapped up in a +dressing-gown.</p> + +<p>"Linn, what's the matter with you?" he exclaimed, looking at him. "Are +you ill? What have you been doing to yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," was the answer. "I have been rather worried and out of +sorts lately, that is all. And I can't go to that dinner to-night, +Maurice. Will you make my excuses for me, like a good fellow? Tell Lady +Adela I'm awfully sorry—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I sha'n't do anything of the sort," Mangan said, promptly. "Do +you think I am going to leave you here all by yourself? You know why I +accepted the invitation: mere curiosity;<!-- Page 343 --><span class="pagenum">{343}</span> I wanted to see you among +those people—I wanted to describe to Miss Francie how you looked when +you were being adored—"</p> + +<p>"My dear chap, you would have seen nothing of the sort," Lionel said. +"To-night there is to be a shining galaxy of genius, and each particular +star will be eager to absorb all the adoration that is going. Authors, +actors, painters, musicians—that kind of people; kid-gloved Bohemia."</p> + +<p>"Come, Linn; rouse yourself, man," his friend protested. "You'll do no +good moping here by the fire. There's still time for you to dress; I +came early in case you might want to walk up to Campden Hill. And you +shouldn't disappoint your friends, if this is to be so great an +occasion."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're right," Lionel said, and he rose wearily, "though I +would twenty times rather go to bed. You can find a book for yourself, +Maurice; I sha'n't keep you many minutes," and with that he disappeared +into his dressing-room.</p> + +<p>A four-wheeler carried them up to Campden Hill; a welcome glow of light +shone forth on the carriage-drive and the dark bushes. As they entered +and crossed the wide hall, they were preceded by a young lady whose name +was at the same moment announced at the door of the drawing-room—"Miss +Gabrielle Grey."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really," said Mangan to his companion, as they were leaving their +coats and hats. "I always thought 'Gabrielle Grey' was the pseudonym of +an elderly clergyman's widow, or somebody of that kind."</p> + +<p>"But who is Miss Gabriel Grey?"</p> + +<p>"You mean to say you have never even heard of her? Oh, she writes +novels—very popular, too, and very deservedly so, for that kind of +thing—excellent in tone, highly moral, and stuffed full of High-Church +sentiment; and I can tell you this, Linn, my boy, that for a lady +novelist to have plenty of High-Church sentiment at her command is about +equivalent to holding four of a kind at poker—and that's an +illustration you'll understand. Now come and introduce me to my hostess, +and tell me who all the people are."</p> + +<p>Lady Adela received both Lionel and his friend in the most kindly +manner.</p> + +<p>"What a charming photograph that is of you in evening<!-- Page 344 --><span class="pagenum">{344}</span> dress," she said +to Lionel. "Really, I've had to lock away my copy of it; girls are such +thieves nowadays; they think nothing of picking up what pleases them and +popping it in their pockets." And therewith Lady Adela turned to Mr. +Quirk, with whom she had been talking; and the new-comers passed on, and +found themselves in a corner from whence they could survey the room.</p> + +<p>The first glance revealed to Lionel that, if all the talents were there, +the "quality" was conspicuously absent.</p> + +<p>"I know hardly anybody here," he said, in an undertone, to Mangan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know some of them," was the answer, also in an undertone. "Rather +small lions—I think she might have done better with proper guidance. +But perhaps this is only a beginning. Isn't your friend Quirk a picture? +Who is the remarkably handsome girl just beyond?"</p> + +<p>"That's Lady Adela's sister, Lady Sybil."</p> + +<p>"The composer? I see; that's why she's talking to that portentous old +ass, Schweinkopf, the musical critic. Then there's Miss Gabrielle +Grey—poor thing! she's not very pretty—'I was not good enough for man, +and so am given to'—publishers. By Jove, there's Ichabod—standing by +the door; don't you know him?—Egerton—but they call him Ichabod at the +Garrick. Now, what could our hostess expect to get out of Ichabod? He +has nothing left to him but biting his nails like the senile Pope or +Pagan in the 'Pilgrim's Progress.'"</p> + +<p>"What does he do?"</p> + +<p>"He is a reviewer, <i>et prœterea nihil</i>. Some twenty years ago he wrote +two or three novels, but people wouldn't look at them, and so he became +morose about the public taste and modern literature. In fact, there has +been no English literature—for twenty years; this is his wail and moan +whenever an editor allows him to lift up his voice. It was feeble on the +part of your friend to ask Ichabod; she won't get anything out of him. I +can see a reason for most of the others—those whom I know; but Ichabod +is hopeless."</p> + +<p>Mangan suddenly ceased these careless comments; his attention was +arrested by the entrance of a tall young lady who came in very +quietly—without being announced even.</p> + +<p>"I say, who's that?" he exclaimed, under his breath.<!-- Page 345 --><span class="pagenum">{345}</span></p> + +<p>And Lionel had been startled too; for he had convinced himself ere he +came that Honnor Cunyngham was certain to be in Scotland. But there she +was, as distinguished-looking, as self-possessed as ever; her glance +direct and simple and calm, though she seemed to hesitate for a moment +as if seeking for some one whom she might know in the crowd. From the +fact of her not having been announced, Lionel guessed that she was +staying in the house; perhaps, indeed, she had been in the drawing-room +before. He hardly knew what to do. He forgot to answer his friend's +question. If dinner were to be happily announced now, would it not save +her from some embarrassment if he and she could go in their separate +ways without meeting? and thereafter he could leave without returning to +the drawing-room. Yet, if she were staying in the house, she must have +known that he was coming?</p> + +<p>All this swift consideration was the work of a single second; the next +second Miss Honnor's eyes had fallen upon the young man; and immediately +and in the most natural way in the world she came across the room to +him. It is true that there was a slight touch of color visible on the +gracious forehead when she offered him her hand; but there was no other +sign of self-consciousness; and she said, quite quietly and simply,</p> + +<p>"It is some time since we have met, Mr. Moore; but, of course, I notice +your name in the papers frequently."</p> + +<p>"I hardly expected to see you here to-night," he said, in reply. "I +thought you would be off to Scotland for the salmon-fishing."</p> + +<p>"I go to-morrow night," she made answer.</p> + +<p>At the same moment Lord Rockminster came up, holding a bit of folded +paper furtively in his hand; the faithful brother looked perplexed, for +he had to remember the names of these various strangers; but here at +least were two whom he did know.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore, will you take Miss Cunyngham in to dinner?" he murmured, as +he went by; so that Lionel found there would have been no escape for him +in any case. But now that the first little awkwardness of their meeting +was over, there was nothing else. Miss Cunyngham spoke to him quite +pleasantly and naturally—though she did not meet his eyes much. +Meantime dinner was announced, and Lord Rockminster led the way with a +trim little elderly lady whom Lionel afterwards discovered to be (for +she told him as much) the London correspondent<!-- Page 346 --><span class="pagenum">{346}</span> of a famous Parisian +journal devoted to fashions and the <i>beau monde</i>.</p> + +<p>And here he was, seated side by side with Honnor Cunyngham, talking to +her, listening to her, and with no sort of perturbation whatever. He +began to ask himself whether he had ever been in love with her—whether +he had not rather been in love with her way of life and its +surroundings. He was thinking not so much of her as her departure on the +morrow, and the scenes that lay beyond. Why had he not £10,000 a +year—£5000—nay, £1000 a year—and freedom? Why could he not warm his +soul with the consciousness that the salmon-rods were all packed and +waiting in the hall; that new casting-lines had been put in the +fly-book; that only the short drive up to Euston and a single black +night lay between him and all the wide wonder of the world that would +open out thereafter? Forth from the darkness into a whiter light—a +larger day—a sweeter air; for now we are among the russet beech-hedges, +the deep-green pines, the purple hills touched here and there with snow; +and the far-stretching landscape is shining in the morning sun; and the +peewits are wheeling hither and thither in the blue. Then we are +thundering through rocky chasms and watching the roaring brown torrent +beneath; or panting or struggling away up the lonely altitudes of +Drumouchter; and again merrily racing and chasing down into the spacious +valley of the Spey. And what for the end?—the long, still strath after +leaving Invershin—the penetration into the more secret solitudes—the +peaks of Coulmore and Suilven in the west—and here the Aivron making a +murmuring music over its golden gravel! There is a smell of peat in the +air; there are children's voices about the keepers' cottages; and here +is the handsome old Robert, rejoiced that the year has opened again and +Miss Honnor come back! "Well, Robert, you must come in and have a dram, +and I will show you the tackle I've brought with me." "I am not wishing +for a dram, Miss Honnor, so much as I am glad to see you back again, ay, +and looking so well!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore," she said (and she startled him out of his reverie), "do you +ever give a little dinner-party at your rooms?"</p> + +<p>"Well, seldom," he said. "You see, I have only the one evening in the +week; and I have generally some engagement or other."</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf346" id="illusf346"></a> +<img src="images/illusf346.jpg" alt=""There was a slight touch of color visible on the +gracious forehead when she offered him her hand."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>There was a slight touch of color visible on the +gracious forehead when she offered him her hand.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<!-- Page 347 --><p><span class="pagenum">{347}</span></p> + +<p>"I should like to send you a salmon, if it would be of any use to you," +she went on to say.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much; I would rather see you hook and land it than have +the compliment of its being sent to me twenty times over. I was thinking +this very minute of the Aivron, and your getting down to the ford the +day after to-morrow, and old Robert being there to welcome you. I envy +him—and you. Are you to be all by yourself at the lodge?"</p> + +<p>"For the present, yes," Miss Honnor said. "My brother and Captain +Waveney come at the beginning of April. Of course it is rather hazardous +going just now; the river might be frozen over for a fortnight at a +time; but that seldom happens. And in ordinarily mild weather it is very +beautiful up there—the most beautiful time of the year, I think; the +birch-woods are all of the clearest lilac, and the brackens turned to +deep crimson; then the bent grass on the higher hills—what they call +deer's hair—is a mass of gold. And I don't in the least mind being +alone in the evening—in fact, I enjoy it. It is a splendid time for +reading. There is not a sound. Caroline comes in from time to time to +pile on more peats and sweep the hearth; then she goes out again; and +you sit in an easy-chair with your back to the lamp; and if you've got +an interesting book, what more company do you want? Then it's very early +to bed in Strathaivron; and I've got a room that looks both ways—across +the strath and down; and sometimes there is moonlight making the windows +blue; or if there isn't, you can lie and look at the soft red light +thrown out by the peat, until the silence is too much for you, and you +are asleep before you have had time to think of it. Now tell me about +yourself," she suddenly said. "I hope the constant work and the long and +depressing winter have not told on you. It must have been very +unpleasant getting home so late at night during the fogs."</p> + +<p>He would rather she had continued talking about the far Aivron and the +Geinig; he did not care to come back to the theatre and Kate Burgoyne.</p> + +<p>"One gets used to everything, I suppose," he said.</p> + +<p>"But still it must be gratifying to you to be in so successful a +piece—to be aware of the delight you are giving, evening after evening, +to so many people," Miss Honnor reminded him. "By the way, how is the +pretty Italian girl—the young lady you said you had known in Naples?"<!-- Page 348 --><span class="pagenum">{348}</span></p> + +<p>"She has left the New Theatre," he said, not lifting his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, really. Then I'm sure that must have been unfortunate for the +operetta; for she had such a beautiful voice—she sang so +exquisitely—and besides that there was go much refinement and grace in +everything she did. I remember mother was so particularly struck with +her; we have often spoken of her since; her manner on the stage was so +charming—so gentle and graceful—it had a curious fascination that was +irresistible. And I confess I was delighted with the little touch of +foreign accent; perhaps if she had not been so very pretty, one would +have been less ready to be pleased with everything. And where is she +now, Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," Lionel said, rather unwillingly; he would +rather not have been questioned.</p> + +<p>"And is that how friendships in the theatre are kept up?" Miss Honnor +said, reproachfully. "But it is all very well for us idle folk to talk. +I suppose you are all far too busy to give much time to correspondence."</p> + +<p>"No, we have not much time for letter-writing," he said, absently.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was well for him that he had this companion who could talk to +him in her quiet, low tones; for he was out of spirits and inclined to +be silent; and certainly he had no wish to join in the frothy discussion +which Octavius Quirk had started at the upper end of the table. Mr. +Mellord, the famous Academician, had taken in Lady Adela to dinner; but +she had placed Mr. Quirk on her left hand; and from this position of +authority he was roaring away like any sucking-dove and challenging +everybody to dispute his windy platitudes. Lord Rockminster, down at the +other end, mute and in safety, was looking on at this motley little +assemblage, and probably wondering what his three gifted sisters would +do next. It was hard that he had no Miss Georgie Lestrange to amuse him; +perhaps Miss Georgie had been considered ineligible for admission into +this intellectual coterie. Poor man!—and to think he might have been +dining in solitary comfort at his club, at a quiet little table, with +two candles, and a Sunday paper propped up by the water-bottle! But he +betrayed no impatience; he sat and looked and meditated.</p> + +<p>However, when dinner was over and the ladies had left the<!-- Page 349 --><span class="pagenum">{349}</span> room, he had +to go and take his sister's place, so that he found himself in the thick +of the babble. Mr. Quirk was no longer goring spiders' webs; he was now +attacking a solid and substantial subject—nothing less than the +condition of the British army; and a pretty poor opinion he seemed to +have of it. As it chanced, the only person who had seen service was Lord +Rockminster (at Knightsbridge), but he did not choose to open his mouth, +so that Mr. Quirk had it all his way—except when Maurice Mangan thought +it worth while to give him a cuff or a kick, just by way of reminding +him that he was mortal. Ichabod, in silence, stuck to the port wine. +Quincey Hooper, the American journalist, drew in a chair by the side of +Lord Rockminster and humbly fawned. And meanwhile Quirk, head downward, +so to speak, charged rank and file, and sent them flying; arose again +and swept the heads off officers; and was just about to annihilate the +volunteers when Mangan interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you expect too much," he said, in his slow and half-contemptuous +fashion. "The British soldier is not over well-educated, I admit; but +you needn't try him by an impossible standard. I dare say you are +thinking of ancient days when a Roman general could address his troops +in Latin and make quite sure of being understood; but you can't expect +Tommy Atkins to be so learned. And our generals, as you say, may chiefly +distinguish themselves at reviews; but the reviews they seem to me to be +too fond of are those published monthly. As for the volunteers—"</p> + +<p>"You will have a joke about them, too, I suppose," Quirk retorted. "An +excellent subject for a joke—the safety of the country! A capital +subject for a merry jest; Nero fiddling with Rome in flames—"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon? Nero never did anything of the kind," Mangan +observed, with a perfectly diabolical inconsequence, "for violins +weren't invented in those days."</p> + +<p>This was too much for Mr. Quirk; he would not resume argument with such +a trifler; nor, indeed, was there any opportunity; for Lord Rockminster +now suggested they should go into the drawing-room—and Ichabod had to +leave that decanter of port.</p> + +<p>Now, if Maurice Mangan had come to this house to see how Lionel was +feted and caressed by "the great"—in order that he<!-- Page 350 --><span class="pagenum">{350}</span> might carry the +tale down to Winstead to please the old folk and Miss Francie—he was +doomed to disappointment. There were very few of "the great" present, to +begin with; and those who were paid no particular attention to Lionel +Moore. It was Octavius Quirk who appeared to be the hero of the evening, +so far as the attention devoted to him by Lady Adela and her immediate +little circle was concerned. But Maurice himself was not wholly left +neglected. When tea was brought in, his hostess came over to where he +was standing.</p> + +<p>"Won't you sit down, Mr. Mangan?—I want to talk to you about something +of very great importance—importance to me, that is, for you know how +vain young authors are. You have heard of my new book?—yes, I thought +Mr. Moore must have told you. Well, it's all ready, except the +title-page. I am not quite settled about the title yet; and you literary +gentlemen are so quick and clever with suggestions—I am sure you will +give me good advice. And I've had a number of different titles printed, +to see how they look in type; what do you think of this one? At present +it seems to be the favorite; it was Mr. Quirk's suggestion—"</p> + +<p>She showed him a slip with "North and South" printed on it in large +letters.</p> + +<p>"I don't like it at all," Mangan said, frankly. "People will think the +book has something to do with the American civil war. However, don't +take my opinion at all. My connection with literature is almost +infinitesimal—I'm merely a newspaper hack, you know."</p> + +<p>"What you say about the title is <i>quite</i> right? and I am <i>so</i> much +obliged to you, Mr. Mangan," Lady Adela said, with almost pathetic +emphasis. "The American war, of course; I never thought of that!"</p> + +<p>"What is Ichabod's choice?—I beg your pardon, I mean have you shown the +titles to Mr. Egerton?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid he doesn't approve of any of them," said Lady Adela, sadly +turning over the slips.</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not; good titles went out with good fiction—when he +ceased to write novels a number of years ago. May I look at the others?"</p> + +<p>She handed him the slips.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, there is one that in my poor opinion would be rather +effective—'Lotus and Lily'—a pretty sound—"<!-- Page 351 --><span class="pagenum">{351}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes—perhaps," said Lady Adela, doubtfully, "but then, you see, it has +not much connection with the book. The worst of it is that all the novel +is printed—all but the three title-pages. Otherwise I might have called +my heroine Lily—"</p> + +<p>"But I fear you could not have called your hero Lotus," said Mangan, +gravely. "Not very well. However, it is no use speculating on that now, +as you say. What is the next one?—'Transformation.' Of course you know +that Hawthorne wrote a book under that title, Lady Adela?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, cheerfully. "But there's no copyright in America; so +why shouldn't I take the title if it suits?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated; there seemed to be some ethical point here; but he fell +back on base expediency.</p> + +<p>"It is a mistake for two authors to use the same title—I'm sure it is," +said he. "Look at the confusion. The reviewers might pass over your +novel, thinking it was only a new edition of Hawthorne's book."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's quite true," said Lady Adela, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, here is one," he continued. "'Sicily and South Kensington;' +that's odd; that's new; that might take the popular fancy."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, that is a favorite of my own," Lady Adela said, with a +slight eagerness, "for it really describes the book. You understand, Mr. +Mangan, all the first part is about the South of Italy; and then I come +to London and try to describe everything that is just going on round +about us. I have put <i>everything</i> in; so that really—though I shouldn't +praise myself—but it isn't praise at all, Mr. Mangan, it is merely +telling you what I have aimed at—and really any one taking up my poor +little book some hundred years hence might very fairly assume that it +was a correct picture of all that was going on in the reign of Queen +Victoria. I do not say that it is well done; not at all; that would be +self-praise; but I do think it may have some little historical value. +Modern life is so busy, so hurried, and so complex that it is difficult +to form any impression of it as a whole; I take up book after book, +written by living authors with whom I shouldn't dream of comparing +myself, and yet I see how small a circle their characters work in. You +would think the world consisted of only eight or ten people, and that +there was hardly room for them to move. They never get away from one +another;<!-- Page 352 --><span class="pagenum">{352}</span> they don't mix in the crowd; there is no crowd. But here in my +poor way I am trying to show what a panorama London is; always changing; +occupations, desires, struggles following one another in breathless +rapidity; in short, I want to show modern life as it is, not as it is +dreamed of by clever authors who live in a study. Now that is my excuse, +Mr. Mangan, for being such a dreadful bore; and I am <i>so</i> much obliged +to you for your kind advice about the title; it is so easy for clever +people to be kind—just a word, and it's done. Thank you," said she, as +he took her cup from her and placed it on the table; and then, before +she left him, she ventured to say, with a charming modesty, "I'm sure +you will forgive me, Mr. Mangan, but if I were to send you a copy of the +book, might I hope that you would find ten minutes to glance over it?"</p> + +<p>"I am certain I shall read it with very great interest," said he; and +that was strictly true, for this Lady Adela Cunyngham completely puzzled +him; she seemed so extraordinary a combination of a clever woman of the +world and an awful fool.</p> + +<p>And Lionel? Well, he had got introduced to Miss Gabrielle Grey, whom he +found to be a very quiet, shy, pensive sort of creature, not posing as a +distinguished person at all. He dared not talk to her of her books, for +he did not even know the names of them; but he let her understand that +he knew she was an authoress, and it seemed to please her to know that +her fame had penetrated into the mysterious regions behind the +footlights. She began to question him, in a timid sort of way, about his +experiences—whether stage-fright was difficult to get over—whether he +thought that the immediate and enthusiastic approbation of the public +was a beneficial stimulant—whether the continuous excitement of the +emotional nature tended to render it callous, or, on the other hand, +more sensitive and sympathetic—and so forth. Was she dimly looking +forward to the conquest of a new domain, where the young ladies of the +rectory and the vicarage might be induced fearfully to follow her? But +Lionel did not<!-- Page 353 --><span class="pagenum">{353}</span> linger long in that drawing-room. He got Maurice Mangan +away as soon as he could; they slipped out unobserved—especially as +there were plenty of new-comers now arriving. When they had passed down +through the back garden to the gate, the one lit a cigarette, and the +other a pipe; and together they wended their way towards Kensington +Road and Piccadilly.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Mangan, "I shall have quite a favorable report to carry down +to Winstead. I did not see you treated with any of that unwholesome +adulation I have heard so much of!"</p> + +<p>"I am almost a stranger in the house now," Lionel said, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, various circumstances, of late."</p> + +<p>"They did not even ask you to sing," his friend said, in accents of some +surprise.</p> + +<p>"They dared not. Didn't you see that most of the people were strangers? +How could Lady Adela be sure that she was not wounding somebody's +susceptibilities by having operatic music on a Sunday evening? She knew +nothing at all about half those people; they were merely names to her, +that she had collected round her in order that she might count herself +in among the arts."</p> + +<p>"That ill-conditioned brute Quirk seemed to me to be dominating the +whole thing," said Mangan, rather testily. "It's an awful price to pay +for a few puffs. I wonder a woman like that can bear him to come near +her, but she pets the baboon as if he were a King Charles spaniel. +Linnie, my boy, you're no longer first favorite. I can see that; +self-interest has proved too strong; the flattering little review, the +complimentary little notice, has ousted you. It isn't you who are +privileged to meet my Lady Morgan in the street—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">'And then to gammon her, in the <i>Examiner</i>,</div> +<div class="verse">With a paragraph short and sweet.'</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Well, now, tell me about that very striking-looking girl, or woman, +rather, whom you took in to dinner. I asked you who she was when she +came into the room."</p> + +<p>"That was Miss Honnor Cunyngham."</p> + +<p>"Not the salmon-fishing young lady I have heard you speak of?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why, she didn't look like that," said Mangan, thoughtfully. "Not the +least. She has got a splendid forehead—powerful and clear—and almost +too much character about the square brows<!-- Page 354 --><span class="pagenum">{354}</span> and the calm eyes. I should +have taken her to be a strongly intellectual woman, of the finer and +more reticent type. Well, well, a salmon-fisher!"</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't she be both?"</p> + +<p>"Why, indeed?" said Maurice, absently; and therewith he relapsed (as was +frequently his wont) into silence, and in silence the two friends +pursued their way eastwards to Lionel's rooms.</p> + +<p>But when they had arrived at their destination, when soda-water had been +produced and opened, and when Mangan was lying back in an easy-chair, +regarding his friend, he resumed the conversation.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought going to see those people to-night would have +brightened you up a little," he began, "but you seem thoroughly out of +sorts, Linn. What is the matter? Overwork or worry? I should not think +overwork; I've never seen your theatre-business prove too much for you. +Worry? What about, then?"</p> + +<p>"There may be different things," Lionel said, evasively, as he brought +over the spirit case. "I haven't been sleeping well of late—lying awake +even if I don't go to bed till three or four; and I get a singing in my +ears sometimes that is bothersome. Oh, never mind me; I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"But I'm going to mind you, for you are not all right. Is it money?"</p> + +<p>"No, no."</p> + +<p>"What, then? There is something seriously worrying you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there are several things," Lionel exclaimed, forced at last into +confession. "I can't think what has become of Nina Ross, that's one +thing; if I only knew she was safe and well, I don't think I should mind +the other things. No, not a bit. But there was something about her going +away that I can't explain to you, only I—I was responsible in a sort of +way; and Nina and I were always such good friends and companions. Well, +it's no use talking about that. Then there's another little detail," he +added, with an air of indifference: "I'm engaged to be married."</p> + +<p>Mangan stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Engaged to be married?" he repeated, as if he had not heard aright. "To +whom?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne."<!-- Page 355 --><span class="pagenum">{355}</span></p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne—of the New Theatre?"</p> + +<p>"The same."</p> + +<p>"Are you out of your senses, Linn!" Maurice cried, angrily.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so," he said, and he went to the mantelpiece for a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"How did it come about?" demanded Maurice, again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. It isn't of much consequence, is it?" Lionel +answered, carelessly.</p> + +<p>Then Maurice instantly reflected that, if this thing were really done, +it was not for him to protest.</p> + +<p>"Of course I say nothing against the young lady—certainly not. I +thought she was very pleasant the night I was introduced to her, and +nice-looking too. But I had no idea you were taken in that quarter, +Linn; none—hence the surprise. I used to think you were in the happy +position which Landor declared impossible. What were the lines? I +haven't seen them for twenty years, but they were something like this:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verseineg">'Fair maiden, when I look on thee,</div> +<div class="verse">I wish that I were young and free;</div> +<div class="verse">But both at once, ah, who could be?'</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I thought you were 'both at once'—and very well content. But supposing +you have given up your freedom, why should that vex and trouble you? The +engagement time is said to be the happiest period of a man's life; what +is wrong in your case?"</p> + +<p>Lionel took a turn or two up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will tell you the truth, Maurice," he blurted out, at last. "I +got engaged to her in a fit of restlessness or caprice, or some such +ridiculous nonsense, and I don't regret it; I mean, I am willing to +stand by it; but that is not enough for her, and I can look forward to +nothing but a perpetual series of differences and quarrels. She expects +me to play Harry Thornhill off the stage, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Mangan looked at him for some time.</p> + +<p>"Even between friends," he said, slowly, "there are some things it is +difficult to talk about with safety. Of course you know what an outsider +would say: that you had got into a devil of a mess; that you had +blundered into an engagement with a woman whom you find you don't want +to marry."</p> + +<p>"Well, is there anything uncommon in that?" Lionel demanded.<!-- Page 356 --><span class="pagenum">{356}</span> "Is that +an unusual experience in human life? But I don't admit as much, in my +case. I am quite willing to marry her, so long as she keeps her temper, +and doesn't expect me to play the fool. I dare say we shall get on well +enough, like other people, after the fateful deed is done. In the +meantime," he added, with a forced laugh—"in the meantime, I find +myself now and again wishing I was a sailor brave and bold, careering +round the Cape of Good Hope in a gale of wind, and with no loftier +aspiration in my mind than a pint of rum and a well-filled pipe."</p> + +<p>"Faith, I think that's just where you ought to be," said Mangan, dryly, +"instead of in this town of London, at the present moment. I declare +you've quite bewildered me. If you had told me you were engaged to that +tall salmon-fishing girl—you used to talk about her a good deal, you +know—or to that fascinating young Italian creature—and I've seen +before now how easily the gentle friend and companion can be transformed +into a sweetheart—I should have been ready with all kinds of pretty +speeches and good wishes. But Miss Burgoyne of the New Theatre? Linn, my +boy, I've discovered what's the matter with you, and I can prescribe an +absolutely certain cure."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"The cure? You have partly suggested it yourself. You must go at once +and take your passage in a sailing ship for Australia. You can stay +there for a time and examine the colony; of course you'll write a book +about it, like everybody else. Then you make your way to San Francisco, +and accept a three-months' engagement there. You come on to New York, +and accept a three-months' engagement there. And when you return to +England you will find that all your troubles have vanished, and that you +are once again the Linn Moore we all of us used to know."</p> + +<p>A wild fancy flashed through Lionel's brain; what if in these far +wanderings he were suddenly to encounter Nina? In vain—in vain; Nina +had become for him but a shadow, a ghost, with no voice to call to him +from any sphere.</p> + +<p>"You would have me run away?—I don't see how I can do that," he said, +quietly; and then he abruptly changed the subject. "What did you think +of Lady Adela?"</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell you the truth, I've been wondering whether she<!-- Page 357 --><span class="pagenum">{357}</span> were at +the same time a smart and clever woman and an abject fool, or whether +she were simply smart and clever and thought me an abject fool. It must +be either one or the other. She played the literary <i>ingénue</i> very +well—a little too openly, perhaps. I'm curious about her book—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't judge of her by her book!" Lionel exclaimed. "That isn't +fair. Her book you may very likely consider foolish—not at all. I +suppose her head is a little bit turned by the things that Quirk and +those fellows have been writing about her; but that's only natural. And +if she showed her hand a little too freely in trying to interest you in +her novel, you must remember how eager she is to succeed. You'll do what +you can for her book—won't you, Maurice?"</p> + +<p>Maurice Mangan, on his way home that night, had other things to think of +than Lady Adela's poor little book. He saw clearly enough the +embroilment into which Lionel had landed himself; but he could not see +so clearly how he was to get out of it. One question he forgot to ask: +what had induced that mood of petulance or recklessness, or both +combined, in which Lionel had wilfully and madly pledged all his future +life? However, the thing was done; here was his friend going forward to +a <i>mariage de convenance</i> (where there was very little <i>convenance</i>, to +be sure) with a sort of careless indifference, if not of bravado; while +his bride, on the other hand, might surely be pardoned if she resented, +and indignantly resented, his attitude towards her. What kind of +prospect was this for two young people? Maurice thought that on the very +first opportunity he would go away down to Winstead and talk the matter +over with Francie; who than she more capable of advising in aught +concerning Lionel's welfare?</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding his intercession with Maurice on behalf of Lady Adela's +forthcoming novel, Lionel did not seem disposed to resume the friendly +relations with the people up at Campden Hill which had formerly existed. +He did not even call after the dinner-party. If Mr. Octavius Quirk were +for the moment installed as chief favorite, he had no wish to interfere +with him; there were plenty of other houses open, if one chose to go. +But the fact is, Lionel now spent many afternoons and nearly every +evening at the Garden Club; whist before dinner, poker after supper, +being the established rule. Moreover,<!-- Page 358 --><span class="pagenum">{358}</span> a new element had been +introduced, as far as he was concerned. Mr. Percival Miles had been +elected a member of the club, and had forthwith presented himself in the +card-room, where he at once distinguished himself by his bold and +intrepid play. The curious thing was that, while openly professing a +kind of cold acquaintanceship, it was invariably against Lionel Moore +that he made his most determined stand; with the other players he might +play an ordinarily discreet and cautious game; but when Moore could be +challenged, this pale-faced young man never failed promptly to seize the +opportunity. And the worst of it was that he had extraordinary luck, +both in the run of the cards and in his manœuvres.</p> + +<p>"What is that young whipper-snapper up to?" Lionel said to himself, +after a particularly bad night (and morning) as he sat staring into the +dead ashes of his fireplace. "He wanted to take my life—until my good +angel interfered and saved me. Now does he want to break me financially? +By Jove! they're coming near to doing it among them. I shall have to go +to Moss to-morrow for another £250. Well, what does it matter? The luck +must turn some time. If it doesn't?—if it doesn't?—then there may come +the trip before the mast, as the final panacea, according to Maurice. +Australia?—there would be freedom there, and perhaps forgetfulness."</p> + +<p>As he was passing into his bedroom he chanced to observe a package that +was lying on a chair, and for a second he glanced at the handwriting of +the address. It was Miss Burgoyne's. What could she want with him now? +He cut the string, and opened the parcel; behold, here was the +brown-and-scarlet woollen vest that she had knitted for him with her own +fair hands. Why these impatiently down-drawn brows? A true lover would +have passionately kissed this tender token of affection, and bethought +him of all the hours and half-hours and quarters of an hour during which +she had been employed in her pretty task, no doubt thinking of him all +the time. Alas! the love-gift was almost angrily thrown on to the chair +again—and he went into his own room.<!-- Page 359 --><span class="pagenum">{359}</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h4>PRIUS DEMENTAT.</h4> + + +<p>When Maurice Mangan left the train at Winstead, and climbed out of the +deep chalk cutting in which the station is buried, and emerged upon the +open downs, he found himself in a very different world from that he had +left. Far away behind him lay the great city (even now the dusky dome of +St. Paul's was visible across the level swathes of landscape), with its +miry ways and teeming population and continuous thunder of traffic; +while here were the windy skies of a wild March morning and swaying +trees and cawing rooks and air that was sweet in the nostrils and soft +to the throat. As he light-heartedly strode away across the undulations +of blossoming gorse, fragments of song from his favorite poets chased +one another through his brain; and somehow they were all connected with +the glad opening out of the year—"And then my heart with pleasure +fills, and dances with the daffodils"—"Along the grass sweet airs are +blown, our way this day in spring"—"And in the gloaming o' the wood, +the throssil whistled sweet"—Mangan could sing no more than a crow; but +he felt as if he were singing; there was a kind of music in the long +stride, the quick pulse, the deep inhalations of the delicious air. For +all was going to be well now; he was about to consult Francie as to +Lionel's sad estate. He did not stay to ask himself whether it were +likely that a quiet and gentle girl, living in this secluded +neighborhood, could be of much help in such a matter; it was enough that +he was going to talk it all over with Miss Francie; things would be +clearer then.</p> + +<p>Now, as you go up from Winstead Station to Winstead Village, there is a +strip of coppice that runs parallel with one part of the highway; and +through this prolonged dingle a pathway meanders, which he who is not in +a hurry may prefer to the road. Of course Mangan chose this pleasanter +way, though he<!-- Page 360 --><span class="pagenum">{360}</span> had to moderate his pace now because of the briars; and +right glad was he to notice the various symptoms of the new-born life of +the world—the pale anemones stirred by the warm, moist breeze, the +delicate blossoms of the little wood-sorrel, the budded raceme of the +wild hyacinth; while loud and clear a blackbird sang from a neighboring +bough. He did not expect to meet any one; he certainly did not expect to +meet Miss Francie Wright, who would doubtless be away at her cottages. +But all of a sudden he was startled by the apparition of a rabbit that +came running towards him, and then, seeing him, bolted off at right +angles; and as this caused him to look up from his botanizings, here, +unmistakably, was Miss Francie, coming along through the glade. Her pale +complexion showed a little color as she drew near; but there was not +much embarrassment in the calm, kind eyes.</p> + +<p>"This is indeed a stroke of good-fortune," he said, "for I came down for +the very purpose of having a talk with you all by yourself—about +Lionel. But I did not imagine I should meet you here."</p> + +<p>"I am going down to the station," she said. "I expect a parcel by the +train you must have come by; and I want it at once."</p> + +<p>"May I go with you and carry it for you?" he said, promptly; and of +course she could not refuse so civil an offer. The awkward part of the +arrangement was that they had to go along through this straggling strip +of wood in single file, making a really confidential chat almost an +impossibility; whereupon he proposed, and she agreed, that they should +get out into the highway; and thereafter they went on to the station by +the ordinary road.</p> + +<p>But this task he had undertaken proved to be a great deal more difficult +and delicate than he had anticipated. To have a talk with Francie—that +seemed simple enough; it was less simple, as he discovered, to have to +tell Lionel's cousin that the young man had gone and engaged himself to +be married. Indeed, he beat about the bush for a considerable time.</p> + +<p>"You see," he said, "a young fellow at his time of life, especially if +he has been petted a good deal, is very apt to be wayward and restless, +and likely to get into trouble through the mere impulsiveness, the +recklessness of youth—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mangan," Miss Francie said, with a smile in the quiet<!-- Page 361 --><span class="pagenum">{361}</span> gray eyes, +"why do you always talk of Linn as if he were so much younger than you? +There is no great difference. You always speak as if you were quite +middle-aged."</p> + +<p>"I am worse than middle-aged—I am resigned, and read Marcus Aurelius," +he said. "I suppose I have taken life too easily. Youth is the time for +fighting; there is no fight left in me at all; I accept what happens. +Oh, by the way, when my book on Comte comes out, I may have to buckle on +my armor again; I suppose there will be strife and war and deadly +thrusts; unless, indeed, the Positivists may not consider me worth +answering. However, that is of no consequence; it's about Linn I have +come down; and really, Miss Francie, I fear he is in a bad way, and that +he is taking a worse way to get out of it."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to hear that," she said, gravely.</p> + +<p>"And then he's such a good fellow," Mangan continued. "If he were +selfish or cruel or grasping, one might think that a few buffets from +the world might rather be of service to him; but as it is I don't +understand at all how he has got himself into such a position—or been +entrapped into it; you see, I don't know Miss Burgoyne very well—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne?" she repeated, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne of the New Theatre."</p> + +<p>Then Mangan watched his companion, timidly and furtively—which was a +strange thing for him, for ordinarily his deep-set gray eyes were +singularly intense and sincere.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I ought to tell you at once," he said, slowly, "that—that—the +fact is, Lionel is engaged to be married to Miss Burgoyne."</p> + +<p>"Lionel—engaged to be married?" she said, quickly, and she looked up. +He met her eyes and read them; surely there was nothing there other than +a certain pleased curiosity; she had forgotten that this engagement +might be the cause of her cousin's trouble; she only seemed to think it +odd that Linn was about to be married.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and now I am afraid he regrets his rashness, and is in terrible +trouble over it—or perhaps that is only one of several things. Well, I +had made other forecasts for him," Mangan went on to say, with a little +hesitation. "I could have imagined another future for him. Indeed, at +one time, I thought that if ever he looked out for a wife it would be—a +little nearer home—"<!-- Page 362 --><span class="pagenum">{362}</span></p> + +<p>Her eyes were swiftly downcast; but the next instant she had bravely +raised them and was regarding him.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean me, Mr. Mangan?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He did not answer; he left her to understand. Miss Francie shook her +head, and there was a slight smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she said. "That was never possible at any time. Where was your +clear sight, Mr. Mangan? Of course I am very fond of Linn; I have been +so all my life; and there's nothing I wouldn't do to save him trouble or +pain. But even a stupid country girl may form her ideal—and in my case +Lionel never came anywhere near to that. I know he is good and generous +and manly—he is quite wonderful, considering what he has come through; +but on the other hand—well—oh, well, I'm not going to say anything +against Linn—I will not."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you will not," said Mangan, quietly; and here they reached +the station.</p> + +<p>The parcel had not arrived; there was nothing for it but to retrace +their steps; and on their way across the common they returned to Lionel +and his wretched plight.</p> + +<p>"Surely," said Miss Francie, with a touch of indication in her +voice—"surely, if Miss Burgoyne learns that he is fretting over this +engagement, she will release him at once. No woman could be so shameless +as to keep him to an unwilling bargain—"</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure about that," Mangan made answer. "She may think she +has affection for two, and that all will be well. It is a good match for +her. His position in his profession and in society will be advantageous +to her. Then she may be vain of her conquest—so many different motives +may come in. But the chief point is that Linn doesn't want to be +released from this engagement; he declares he will abide by it—if only +she doesn't expect him to be very affectionate. It is an extraordinary +imbroglio altogether; I am beginning to believe that all the time he has +been in love with that Italian girl whom he knew in Naples, and who was +in the New Theatre for a while, and that now he has made the discovery, +when it is too late, he doesn't care what happens to him. She has gone +away; he has no idea where she is; here he is engaged to Miss Burgoyne, +and quite willing to marry her; and in the meantime he plays cards +heavily to escape from thinking. In fact, he is not taking the<!-- Page 363 --><span class="pagenum">{363}</span> least +care of himself, and you would be surprised at the change in his +appearance already. It isn't like Linn Moore to talk of going to bed +when he ought to be setting out for a dinner-party; and the worst of it +is, he won't pay any heed to what you say to him. But something must be +done; Linn is too good a fellow to be allowed to go to the mischief +without some kind of protest or interference."</p> + +<p>"If you like," said Miss Francie, slowly, "I will go to Miss Burgoyne. +She is a woman; she could not but listen. She cannot want to bring +misery on them both."</p> + +<p>"No," said he, with a little show of authority. "Whatever we may +try—not that. I have heard that Miss Burgoyne has a bit of a temper."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid," said his companion, simply.</p> + +<p>"No, no. If that were the only way, I should propose to go to Miss +Burgoyne myself," he said. "But, you see, the awkward thing is that +neither you nor I have any right to appeal to her, so long as Linn is +willing to fulfil the engagement. We don't know her; we could not +remonstrate as a friend of her own might. If we were to interfere on his +behalf, she would immediately turn to him; and he is determined not to +back out."</p> + +<p>"Then what is to be done, Mr. Mangan?" she exclaimed, in despair.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't quite see at present," he answered her. "I thought I would +talk it over with you, Miss Francie. I thought there might be something +in that; that the way might seem clearer. But I see no way at all, +unless you were to go to him yourself. He would listen to you. Or he +might even listen to me, if I represented to him that you were +distressed at the condition of affairs. At present he doesn't appear to +care what happens to him."</p> + +<p>They had crossed the common; they had come to the foot of the wood; and +they did not go on to the highway, for Miss Francie suggested that the +sylvan path was the more interesting. And so they passed in among the +trees, making their way through the straggling undergrowth, while the +soft March wind blew moist and sweet all around them, and the blackbirds +and thrushes filled the world with their silver melody, and in the more +distant woods the ringdoves crooned. Maurice Mangan followed her—in +silence. Perhaps he was thinking of Lionel;<!-- Page 364 --><span class="pagenum">{364}</span> perhaps he was thinking of +the confession she had made in crossing the common; at all events, he +did not address her; and when she stooped to gather some hyacinths and +anemones he merely waited for her. But as they drew near to the farther +end of the coppice the path became clearer, and now he walked by her +side.</p> + +<p>"Miss Francie," he said (and it was <i>his</i> eyes that were cast down now), +"you were speaking of the ideals that girls in the country may form for +themselves—and girls everywhere, I dare say; but don't you think it +rather hard?"</p> + +<p>"What is?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that you should raise up an impossible standard, and that poor +common human beings, with all their imperfections and disqualifications, +are sent to the right about."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," Miss Francie said, cheerfully. "You don't understand at all. A +girl does not form her ideal out of her own head. She is not clever +enough to do that; or, rather, she is not stupid enough to try to do +that. She takes her ideal from some one she knows—from the finest type +of character she has met; so that it is not an impossible standard, for +one person, at least, has attained to it."</p> + +<p>"And, for the sake of that one, she discards all those unfortunates who, +by their age or appearance or lack of position or lack of distinction, +cannot hope to come near," he said, rather absently. "Isn't that hard? +It makes all sorts of things so hopeless, so impossible. You put your +one chosen friend on this pedestal; and then all the others, who might +wish to win your regard, they know what the result of comparison would +be, and they go away home and hide their heads."</p> + +<p>"I don't see, Mr. Mangan," she said, in a somewhat low voice, and yet a +little proudly too, "why you should fear comparison with any one—no, +not with any one; or imagine that anything could—could displace you in +the regard of your friends."</p> + +<p>He hesitated again—anxious, eager, and yet afraid. At last he said, +rather sadly,</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew something of your ideals, and how far away beyond human +possibility they are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can tell you," she said, plucking up heart of grace, for here was +an easy way out of an embarrassing position. "My ideal woman is Sister +Alexandra, of the East London Hospital.<!-- Page 365 --><span class="pagenum">{365}</span> She was down here last +Sunday—sweeter, more angelic than ever. That is the noblest type of +woman I know. And I was so glad she enjoyed her rare holiday; and when +she went away in the evening we had her just loaded with flowers for her +ward."</p> + +<p>"And the ideal man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Miss Francie, hurriedly, "I hardly know about that. Of +course, when I—when I spoke of Linn a little while ago, I did not wish +to say anything against him—certainly not—no one admires his better +qualities more than I do—but—but there may be other qualities—"</p> + +<p>They were come to the wooden gate opening on to the highway; he paused +ere he lifted the latch.</p> + +<p>"Francie," said he, "do you think that some day you might be induced to +put aside all your high standards and ideals, and—and—in short, accept +a battered old journalist, without money, position, distinction, without +any graces, except this, that gratitude might add something to his +affection for you?"</p> + +<p>Tears sprang into her eyes, and yet there was a smile there, too; she +was not wholly frightened—perhaps she had known all along.</p> + +<p>"Ah, and you don't understand yet, Maurice!" she said, and she frankly +gave him her hand, and her eyes were kind even through her tears. "You +don't understand what I have been saying to you, that a girl's ideal is +one particular person—her ideal is the man or woman whom she admires +and loves the most. Can you not guess?"</p> + +<p>"Francie, you will be my wife?" he said to her, drawing her closer to +him, his hands clasped round her head.</p> + +<p>She did not answer. She was silent for a second or two. And then she +said, with averted eyes,</p> + +<p>"You spoke of gratitude, Maurice. I know who has the most reason to be +grateful—and who will try the hardest to show it."</p> + +<p>So that betrothal was completed; and when they passed out from the +coppice into the whiter air, behold! the wild March skies had parted +somewhat, and there was a shimmer of silver sunlight along the broad +highway between the hedges. It was an auspicious omen—or, at least, +their full hearts may have thought so; and then, again, there was a +wedding chorus all around them from the birds—from the bright-eyed +robin perched on the crimson bramble-spray; from the speckled thrush on +the<!-- Page 366 --><span class="pagenum">{366}</span> swaying elm; from the lark far-hovering over a field of young corn. +But in their own happiness they had thought of others; Francie soon came +back to Lionel again and his grievous misfortunes; and she was listening +with meekness to this tall, clear-eyed man, who could now claim a +certain gentle authority over her. They were a long time before they got +to the doctor's house.</p> + +<p>That same evening Miss Kate Burgoyne invited Lionel to come to her room +for a cup of tea when he had dressed for the last act; and accordingly, +when he was ready, he strolled along the corridor, rapped with his +knuckles, and entered. It turned out that the prima-donna had other +visitors: a young lady whom he had never seen before and Mr. Percival +Miles. The young gentleman, in faultless evening dress, seemed a little +surprised at the easy manner in which Lionel had lounged into the place; +and perhaps Lionel was also a little surprised—for this was Mr. Miles's +first appearance in the room; but each man merely nodded to the other, +in a formal-acquaintance style, as they were in the habit of doing at +the Garden Club. At the same moment Miss Burgoyne opened a portion of +the curtain, so that she could address her guests.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore, let me introduce you to my friend, Miss Ingram. Mr. Miles I +think you know."</p> + +<p>And Lionel was glad enough to turn to the young lady and enter into +conversation with her, for the pale young man with the slight yellow +moustache was defiantly silent, and had even something fierce about his +demeanor. It was no business of Lionel's to provoke a quarrel with this +truculent fire-eater, especially in Miss Burgoyne's room. To quarrel +about Kate Burgoyne?—the irony of events could go no further than that.</p> + +<p>And of course, as the most immediate topic, they spoke of the gale that +had been blowing across London all the afternoon and evening; for the +southerly winds that had prevailed in the morning had freshened up and +increased in violence until a veritable hurricane was now raging, +threatening roofs, chimneys, and lamp-posts, to say nothing of the +whirled and driven and bewildered foot-passengers.</p> + +<p>"I hear there has been a bad accident in Oxford Street," Lionel said to +the young lady. "Some scaffolding has fallen—a lot of people hurt. I'm +afraid there will be a sad tale to tell<!-- Page 367 --><span class="pagenum">{367}</span> from the sea; even now, while +we are secure in this big building, thinking only of amusement, I +suppose there is many a ship laboring in the gale, or going headlong on +to the rocks. Have you far to get home?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am going home with Miss Burgoyne," the young lady answered.</p> + +<p>But here Miss Burgoyne herself appeared, coming forth in the full +splendor of Grace Mainwaring's bridal attire and with all her radiant +witcheries of make-up, and the poor lad sitting there, who had never +before been so near this vision of delight, seemed quite entranced by +its (strictly speaking) superhuman loveliness. He could not take his +eyes away from her. He did not think of joining in the conversation. He +watched her at the mirror; he watched her making tea; he watched her +munching a tiny piece of bread and butter (which was imprudent on her +part, after the care she had bestowed on her lips); and always he was +silent and spellbound. Miss Burgoyne, on the other hand, was talkative +enough.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it an awful night!" she exclaimed. "I thought the cab I came down +in would be blown over. And they say it's getting worse and worse. I +hear there has been a dreadful accident; some of the men were telling +Jane about it; have you heard, Mr. Moore?—something about a scaffold. I +suppose this theatre is safe enough; I don't feel any shaking. But I +know I shall be so nervous going home to-night—I dread it already—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Ingram says she is going home with you," Lionel pointed out, +carelessly.</p> + +<p>"But that is worse!" the prima-donna cried. "Two women are worse than +one—they make each other nervous; no, what you want is a man's +bluntness of perception—his indifference—and the sense of security you +get from his being there. Two frightened women; how are they going to +keep each other's courage up?"</p> + +<p>It was clearly an invitation; almost a challenge. Lionel only said,</p> + +<p>"Why, what have you to fear! The blowing over of a cab is about the last +thing likely to happen. If you were walking along the pavement, you +might be struck by a falling slate; but you are out in the middle of the +road. If you go home in a<!-- Page 368 --><span class="pagenum">{368}</span> four-wheeled cab, you will be as safe as you +are at this minute in this room."</p> + +<p>She turned away from him; at the same moment the pale young gentleman +said, rather breathlessly,</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne, if you would permit me to accompany you and Miss Ingram +home, I should esteem it a great honor—and—and pleasure."</p> + +<p>She whipped round in an instant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, Percy—Mr. Miles, I mean," she added, in pretty +confusion. "That will be so kind of you. We shall be delighted, I'm +sure—very kind of you indeed."</p> + +<p>No more was said at the moment, for Miss Burgoyne had been called; and +Lionel, as he wended his way to the wings, could only ask himself,</p> + +<p>"What is she up to now? She calls me Mr. Moore before her friends, and +him Percy, and she contrives to put him into the position of rescuing +two distressed damsels. Well, what does it matter? I suppose women are +like that."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Percival Miles's accompanying those two young ladies through the +storm did matter to him, in another way, and seriously. When, the +performance being over, he got into evening dress and drove along in a +hansom to the Garden Club, he found there two or three of the young +gentlemen who were in the habit of lounging about the supper-room, +glancing at illustrated papers or chewing toothpicks, until the time for +poker had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Johnny," he said to one of them, "somehow I feel awfully down in the +mouth to-night."</p> + +<p>"That's unusual with you, then," was the cheerful reply. "For you are +the pluckiest loser I ever saw. But I must say your luck of late has +been just something frightful."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm down altogether—in luck, in finances, and spirits; and I'm +going to pull myself up a peg. Come and keep me company. I'm going to +order a magnum of Perrier Jouet of '74, and I only want a glass or two; +you must help me out, or some of those other fellows."</p> + +<p>"That's a pretty piece of extravagance!" the other exclaimed. "A +magnum—to get a couple of glasses out of it; like an otter taking a +single bite from a salmon's shoulder. Never mind, old chap; I'm in. I +hate champagne at this time of night; but I don't want you to kill +yourself."<!-- Page 369 --><span class="pagenum">{369}</span></p> + +<p>As they sat at supper, with this big bottle before them, Lionel said,</p> + +<p>"It will be a bad thing for me if young Miles doesn't show up to-night."</p> + +<p>"I should have thought it would have been an excellent thing for you if +Miles had never entered this club," his companion observed.</p> + +<p>"That's true," said Lionel, rather gloomily. "But my only chance now is +to get some of my property back, and I can only get it back from him. +You fellows are no use to me—not if I were winning all along the line."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Moore," said the young man, in a more serious tone, "you may +say it's none of my business; but the way you and that fellow Miles have +been going on is perfectly awful. If the committee should hear about it, +there will be a row, and no mistake!"</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," Lionel protested, as he pushed the unnecessary bottle to +his neighbor, "the committee have nothing to do with understandings that +are settled outside the club. You don't see Miles or me handing checks +for £200 or £300 across the table. How can the committee expel you for +holding up three fingers or nodding your head?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you'll excuse me saying it, but he's a young ass, to gamble +in that fashion," Johnny remarked, bluntly. "What fun does he get out of +it? And it's quite a new thing with him—that's the odd business. I know +a man who was at Merton with him; and certainly Miles got into a devil +of a scrape—which cut short his career there; but it had nothing to do +with gambling. He never was that way inclined at all; it's a new +development, since he joined this club. Well, I suppose he can do what +he likes. The heir to a baronetcy and such a place as Petmansworth can +get just as much as he wants from the Jews."</p> + +<p>"My good man, he doesn't need to go to the Jews," said Lionel, with grim +irony.</p> + +<p>"Where does he get all that money from? Do you think his father is fool +enough to encourage him in such extravagance? I should hope not! At the +same time I wish I had a father tarred with something of that same +brush."</p> + +<p>"Where does he get all the money from? So far he has got<!-- Page 370 --><span class="pagenum">{370}</span> it from me," +Lionel said, with a bit of a shrug. "He doesn't need to go to his +father, or to the Jews either, when he can plunder me. And such a run of +luck as he has had is simply astounding—"</p> + +<p>"It isn't luck at all," the other interrupted. "It's your play. You play +too bold a game—too bold when you know he is going to play a bolder. +Twice running he caught you last night bluffing on no hand at all; and I +don't know what fabulous stakes were up—with your nods and signs. It's +no use your trying to bluff that fellow. He won't be bluffed."</p> + +<p>"The thing is as broad as it's long, man," Lionel said, impatiently. "If +he is determined to see me every time, he must be caught when I have a +good hand—it stands to reason. The only thing is that my luck has been +so confoundedly bad of late."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and when the luck's against you, you go betting on no hands at +all—with Miles waiting for you!" his companion exclaimed. "All right; +every man must play the game his own way. You don't seem to have found +it profitable so far."</p> + +<p>"Profitable!" Lionel said, with a dark look in his eyes. "I can tell you +I am in a tight corner, and I reckoned on to-night to settle it one way +or the other—not with you fellows, I can't get anything worth while out +of you, but with Miles. And now he's gone away home with—"</p> + +<p>He stopped in time; ladies' names are not mentioned in clubs—at least, +not in such clubs as the Garden.</p> + +<p>"The odd thing is," continued Johnny, as he lit a cigarette, and +definitely refused to have any more of the wine, "the extremely odd +thing is that he doesn't seem to care to win from the rest of us. He +lets us share our modest little pots as if they weren't worth looking +at. It's you he goes for, invariably."</p> + +<p>"And he's gone for me to some purpose," Lionel said, morosely. "I'm just +about broke—broke five or six times over, if it comes to that—and by +that pennyworth of yellow ribbon!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't call him names," said Johnny, as he lay back in his chair. +"Upon my soul I think Miles is somebody in disguise—a priest—an +Inquisitor—somebody with a mission—to punish the sin of gambling. What +does he care about the game? Nothing—I'll swear it! He's only watching +for you. He's an avenger. He has been sent by some superior power—"</p> + +<p>"Then it must have been by the devil," said Lionel, with a<!-- Page 371 --><span class="pagenum">{371}</span> sombre +expression, "for he has got the devil's own luck at his back. Wait till +I get four of a kind when he is betting on a full hand—and then you'll +see his corpse laid out!" This was all he could say just then; for here +was the young man himself, who must have come back from the Edgeware +Road in a remarkably swift hansom.</p> + +<p>Almost directly there was an adjournment to the card-room; and the +players took their places.</p> + +<p>"I propose we have in the joker,"<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Lionel called aloud, as the cards +were dealt for deal.</p> + +<p>"I don't see the fun of it," objected the young man who had been +Lionel's companion at the supper-table. "You never know where you are +when the joker is in. What do you say, Miles?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, have it in by all means," Percival Miles said, with his eyes fixed +on the table.</p> + +<p>And perhaps it was that Lionel was anxious and nervous (for much +depended on the results of this night's play), but he seemed to feel +that the pale young man who sat opposite him appeared to be even more +cold and implacable in manner than was usual with him. He began to have +superstitious fears—like most gamblers. That was an uncanny suggestion +his recent companion had put into his head—that here was an avenger—a +deputed instrument—an agent to inflict an awarded punishment. At the +same time he tried to laugh at the notion. Punishment—from this +stripling of a boy! It was a ludicrous idea, to be sure. When Lionel had +in former days accepted his challenge to fight, it was with some kind of +impatient resolve to teach him a wholesome lesson and brush him aside. +And he had regarded his running after Miss Burgoyne with a sort of +good-natured toleration and contempt; there were always those young +fools in the wake of actresses. But that he, Lionel, should be afraid of +this young idiot? What was there to be afraid of? He was no +swashbuckler—this pallid youth with the thin lips, who concentrated all +his attention on the cards, and had no word or jest for his neighbors. +How could there be anything baleful in the expression<!-- Page 372 --><span class="pagenum">{372}</span> of eyes that were +curiously expressionless? It was a pretty face (Lionel had at one time +thought), but now it seemed capable of a good deal of relentless +determination. Lionel had heard of people shivering when brought into +contact with the repellent atmosphere that appeared to surround a +particular person; but what was there deadly about this young man?</p> + +<p>The game at first was not very exciting, though now and again the joker +played a merry trick, appearing in some unexpected place, and laying +many a good hand low. Indeed, it almost seemed as if Lionel had resolved +to recoup himself by steady play; and so far there had been no duel +between him and young Miles. That was not distant, however. On this +occasion Lionel, who was seated on the left of the dealer—in other +words, he being age—when the cards were dealt found himself with two +pairs in his hand, aces and queens. It was a pretty show. When the time +came for him to declare his intention, he said,</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm just going to make this another ten shillings to come in."</p> + +<p>That frightened no one; they all came in; what caused them to halt and +reflect was that, on Lionel being subsequently asked how many cards he +wished to have, he said,</p> + +<p>"None, thank you."</p> + +<p>Not a syllable was uttered; there were surmises too occult for words. +The player on Lionel's left bet an humble two shillings. The next player +simply came in. So did the third—who was Mr. Percival Miles. Likewise +the dealer; in fact, they were all prepared to pay that modest sum to +inspect the age's hand. But Lionel wanted a higher price for that +privilege.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming in with the little two shillings," said he, "and I will +raise you a sovereign."</p> + +<p>That promptly sent out the player on his left; his neighbor also +retired. Not so the pallid young man with the thin lips.</p> + +<p>"And one better," he said, depositing another sovereign.</p> + +<p>The dealer incontinently fled. There only remained Lionel and his enemy; +and the position of affairs was this—that while Lionel had taken no +additional cards, and was presumably in possession of a straight or a +flush (unless he was bluffing), Miles had taken one card, and most +likely had got two pairs (unless<!-- Page 373 --><span class="pagenum">{373}</span> he was finessing). Two pairs against +two pairs, then? But Lionel had aces and queens.</p> + +<p>"And five better," Lionel said, watching his enemy.</p> + +<p>"And five better," said the younger man, stolidly.</p> + +<p>And now the onlookers altered their surmises. No one but a lunatic would +challenge a player who had declined to take supplementary cards unless +he himself had an exceptionally strong hand, or unless he was morally +certain that his opponent was bluffing. Had Miles "filled," then, with +his one card; and was a straight being played against a straight, or a +flush against a flush? Or had the stolid young man started with fours? +The subdued excitement with which this duel was now being regarded was +enthralling; they forgot to protest against the wild raising of the +bets; and when Lionel and his implacable foe, having exhausted all their +money, had recourse of nods—merely marking their indebtedness to the +pool on a bit of paper lying beside them—the others could only guess at +the amount that was being played for. It was Lionel who gave in; clearly +that insatiate bloodsucker was not to be shaken off.</p> + +<p>"I call you."</p> + +<p>"Three nines," was the answer, and Miles laid down on the table a pair +of nines and the joker. The other two were worthless; clearly, he had +taken the one card as a blind.</p> + +<p>"That is good enough—take away the money," Lionel said, calmly; and the +younger man, with quite as expressionless a face, raked over the pile of +gold, bank-notes, and counters.</p> + +<p>There was a general sense of relief; that strain had been too intense.</p> + +<p>"Very magnificent, you know," said the player who was next to Lionel, as +he placed his ante on the table, "but it isn't poker. I think if you fix +a limit you should stick to it. Have your private bets if you like; but +let us have a limit that allows everybody to see the fun."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly, I agree to that," Lionel said, at once. "We will keep to +the sovereign limit; and Mr. Miles and I will understand well enough +what we are betting when we happen to play against each other."</p> + +<p>Thereafter the game went more quietly, though Lionel was clearly playing +with absolute carelessness; no doubt his companions understood that he +could not hope to retrieve his losses<!-- Page 374 --><span class="pagenum">{374}</span> in this moderate play. He seemed +tired, too, and dispirited; frequently he threw up his cards without +drawing—which was unusual with him.</p> + +<p>"Have a drink, old man, to wake you up?" his neighbor said to him, about +half-past two.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," he answered, listlessly looking on at the cards.</p> + +<p>"A cigarette, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I think I must give up smoking altogether—my throat isn't +quite right."</p> + +<p>But an extraordinary stroke of good-luck aroused him. On looking at his +cards he found he had been dealt four aces and a ten. Surely the hour of +his revenge had sounded at last; for with such a hand he could easily +frighten the others out, while he knew that Percival Miles would remain +in, if he had anything at all. Accordingly, when it came to his turn he +raised before the draw—raised the pool a sovereign; and this caused two +of the players to retire, leaving himself, Miles, and the dealer. He +took one card—to his astonishment and concealed delight he found it was +the joker. Five aces!—surely on such a hand he might bet his furniture, +his clothes, his last cigarette. Five aces!—it was nothing but brute +force; all that was wanted was to pile on the money; he could well +afford to be reckless this time. He saw that Miles also asked for one +card, and that the dealer helped himself to two; but what the took was a +matter of supreme indifference to him.</p> + +<p>It was Percival Miles's turn to bet.</p> + +<p>"I will bet a sovereign," said he.</p> + +<p>"And I'll stay in with you," remarked the dealer, depositing the golden +coin.</p> + +<p>"One better," said Lionel.</p> + +<p>"And one better," said Miles.</p> + +<p>Here the dealer retired, so that these two were left in as before—well, +not as before, for Lionel had five aces in his hand! And now they made +no pretence of keeping to the limit that had been imposed; their bets +were registered on the bit of paper which each had by him; and +pertinaciously did these two gladiators hack and slash at each other. +Lionel was quite reckless. His enemy had taken one card. Very well. +Supposing he had "filled" a flush or a straight, so much the better. +Supposing he also had got fours—that, too, was excellent well; for he<!-- Page 375 --><span class="pagenum">{375}</span> +could have nothing higher than four kings. Strictly speaking, there was +only one hand that could beat Lionel's—a straight flush; but then a +straight flush is an uncommonly rare thing; and, besides, the appearance +of five aces in one's hand seems to convey a sense of quite unlimited +power. That five aces are no better than four aces does not strike the +possessor of them; he regards the goodly show—and strives to conceal +his elation.</p> + +<p>But even the onlookers, intensely interested as they were in this fell +combat, began to grow afraid when they guessed at the sum that was now +in the imaginary pool. The story might get about the club; the committee +might shut up the card-room; there might be a talk of expulsion. As for +Lionel, he kept saying to himself, "Well, this is a safe thing; and I +could go on all night; but I won't take a brutal advantage. As soon as I +think I have got back about what this young fellow has already taken +from me since he came into the club, I will stop. I don't want to break +him. I don't want to send him to the money-lenders."</p> + +<p>As for the pale young man across the table, his demeanor was that of a +perfect poker-player. The only thing that could be noticed was a slight +contraction of his pupils, as if he were concentrating his eyes on the +things immediately around him and trying to leave his face quite +inscrutable. There was no eagerness in his betting—nor was there any +affected resignation; it was entirely mechanical; like clock-work came +the raised and raised bet.</p> + +<p>"I call you," said Lionel, at last, amid a breathless silence.</p> + +<p>Without a word Percival Miles laid his cards on the table, arranging +them in sequence; they were five, six, seven, eight, and nine of +clubs—not an imposing hand, certainly, but Lionel knew his doom was +sealed. He rose from his chair, with a brief laugh that did not sound +very natural.</p> + +<p>"I think I know when I've had enough," he said. "Good-night!" And +"Good-night!" came from one and all of them—though there was an ominous +pause until the door was shut behind him.</p> + +<p>He went down below, to the supper-room, which was all deserted now; he +drew in a chair to a small writing-table and took a sheet of note-paper. +On it he scrawled, with rather a feverish hand:<!-- Page 376 --><span class="pagenum">{376}</span></p> + +<p>"As I understand it, I owe you £800 on this evening, with £300 from +yesterday—£1100 in all. I will try to let you have it to-morrow. +L.M."—and that he put in an envelope, which he addressed to "Percival +Miles, Esq.," and sent up-stairs by one of the servants. Then he went +and got his coat and hat, and left. It was raining hard, and there was a +blustering wind, but he called no hansom; the wet and cold seemed +grateful to him, for he was hot and excited. And then, somewhat blindly, +and bare-throated, he passed through the streaming thoroughfares—caring +little how long it took him to reach Piccadilly.</p> + +<p><br/></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a +href="#FNanchor_2">[2]</a></p><p>The joker is a fifty-third card, of +any kind of device, which is added to the pack; the player to whom it +is dealt can make it any card he chooses. For example, if the other +four cards he holds are two queens and two sevens, he can make the +joker card a third queen, and thus secure for himself a full +hand.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h4>A MEMORABLE DAY.</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"...But do you know, dear Maurice, that you propose marrying a + beggar; and, more than that, a most unabashed beggar, as you will + be saying to yourself presently? The fact is, immediately after you + left this afternoon, the post brought me a letter from Sister + Alexandra, who tells me that two of her small children, suffering + from hip-disease, must be sent home, for the doctors say they are + getting no better, and the beds in the ward are wanted. They are + not fit to be sent home, she writes; then all the country holiday + money collected last summer has been spent, and what is she to do? + Well, I have told her to send them on to me, and I shall take my + chance of finding the £5 that will be necessary. The fact is, I + happen to know one of the poor little things—Grace Wilson her name + is, the dearest little mite. But the truth is, dear Maurice, I + haven't a penny? for I have overdrawn the small allowance that + comes to me quarterly, and spent it all. Now don't be vexed that I + ask you, <i>so soon</i>, for a little help; a sovereign will do, if Linn + will give another; and Linn has always been very good to me in this + way, though for some time back I have been ashamed to take anything + from him. The doctor grumbles, but gives me five shillings whenever + I ask him; Auntie will give me the same; and the rest I can get + from our friends and acquaintances about here. Don't be impatient + with me, dear Maurice; and some day I will take you down to + Whitechapel and show you the very prettiest sight in the whole + world—and that is Sister Alexandra with her fifty children...."</p></div> + +<p>Maurice Mangan read this passage as he was driving in a hansom along +Pall Mall, on his way to call on Lionel. The previous portion of the +letter, which more intimately concerned herself and himself, he had read +several times over before coming out, studying every phrase of it as if +it were an individual treasure, and trying to listen for the sound of +her voice in every<!-- Page 377 --><span class="pagenum">{377}</span> sentence. And as for this more practical matter, +why, although he was rather a poor man, he thought he was not going to +allow Frances to wander about in search of grudging shillings and +half-crowns so long as he himself could come to her aid; so at the foot +of St. James Street he stopped the hansom, went into the +telegraph-office, and sent off the following message: "Five pounds will +reach you to-morrow morning. You cannot refuse my first gift in +our new relationship.—Maurice." And thereafter he went on to +Piccadilly—feeling richer, indeed, rather than poorer.</p> + +<p>When he rang the bell at Lionel's lodgings, it was with no very clear +idea of the message or counsel he was bringing with him; but the news he +now received put all these things out of his head. The house-porter +appeared, looking somewhat concerned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, Mr. Moore is up-stairs; but I'm afraid he's very unwell."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" Maurice asked, instantly.</p> + +<p>"He must have got wet coming home last night, sir; and he has caught a +bad cold. I've just been for Dr. Whitsen, and he will be here at +twelve."</p> + +<p>"But Dr. Whitsen is a throat doctor."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; but it is always his throat Mr. Moore is most anxious about; +and when he found himself husky this morning, he would take nothing but +a raw egg beaten up and a little port-wine negus; and now he won't +speak—he will only write on a piece of paper. He is saving himself for +the theatre to-night, sir, I think that is it; but would you like to go +up and see him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I will go up and see him," Mangan said; and without more ado +he ascended the stairs and made his way into Lionel's bedroom.</p> + +<p>He found his friend under a perfect mountain of clothes that had been +heaped upon him; and certainly he was not shivering now—on the +contrary, his face was flushed and hot, and his eyes singularly bright +and restless. As soon as Lionel saw who this new-comer was, he made a +sign that a block of paper and a pencil lying on the table should be +brought to him; and, turning slightly, he put the paper on the pillow +and wrote:</p> + +<p>"I'm nursing my voice—hope to be all right by night—are you busy +to-day, Maurice?"<!-- Page 378 --><span class="pagenum">{378}</span></p> + +<p>"No; there is no House on Saturday," Maurice made answer.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would stay by me," Lionel wrote, with rather a shaky hand. +"I'm in dreadful trouble. I undertook to pay Percival Miles £1100 and +Lord Rockminster £300 to-day without fail; and I haven't a farthing, and +don't know where to send or what to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind about money!" Maurice said, almost impatiently, for +there was something about the young man's appearance he did not at all +like. "Why should you worry about that? The important business is for +you to get well."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I <i>must</i> pay Rockminster to-day," the trembling pencil +scrawled. "He was the only one of them who stood my friend. I tell you I +<i>must</i> pay him—if I have to get up and go out and seek for the money +myself."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Mangan exclaimed. "What do people care about a day or two, +when they hear you are ill? However, you needn't worry, Linn. As for +that other sum you mention, well, that is beyond me—I couldn't lay my +hands on it at once; but as for the three hundred pounds, I will lend +you that—so set your mind at rest on that point."</p> + +<p>"And you'll give it into Lord Rockminster's own hands—<i>this day?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Surely it will be quite the same if I send the check by a +commissionaire; he must get it sooner or later."</p> + +<p>The earnest, restless eyes looked strangely supplicating.</p> + +<p>"Into his own hands, Maurice!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, very well," Mangan had just time to say, for here was the +doctor.</p> + +<p>Dr. Whitsen examined his patient with the customary professional calm +and reticence; asked a few questions, which Lionel answered with such +husky voice as was left him; and then he said,</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have caught a severe chill, and your system is feverish +generally; the throat is distinctly congested—"</p> + +<p>"But to-night, doctor—the theatre—to-night!" Lionel broke in, +excitedly. "Surely by eight o'clock—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite impossible; not to be thought of," the doctor responded, with +decision.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you do something to tide me over, for the one night?" the +young man said, with appealing and almost pathetic<!-- Page 379 --><span class="pagenum">{379}</span> eyes. "I've never +disappointed the public once before, never once; and if I could only get +over to-night, there's the long rest to-morrow and Monday."</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said the doctor, soothingly, "you must not excite yourself +about a mere trifle. You know it is no uncommon thing, and the public +don't resent it; they would be most unreasonable if they did. Singers +are but mortal like themselves. No, no, you must put that out of your +mind altogether."</p> + +<p>Lionel turned to Maurice.</p> + +<p>"Maurice," he said, in that husky voice, and yet with a curious, subdued +eagerness, "telegraph to Lehmann at once—at once. Doyle is all right; +he has sung the part often enough. And will you send a note to Doyle; he +can go into my dressing-room and take any of my things he wants; Lingard +has the keys. And a telegram to mother, in case she should see something +in the newspapers; tell her there is nothing the matter—only a trifling +cold—"</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Moore," said the doctor, interposing, "you must have a +little care; you must calm yourself. I am sure your friend will attend +to all these matters for you, but in the meantime you must exercise the +greatest self-control, or you may do your throat some serious injury. +Why should you be disturbed by so common an incident in professional +life? Your substitute will do well enough, and the public will greet you +with all the greater favor on your return."</p> + +<p>"It never happened before," the young man said, in lower tones. "I never +had to give in before."</p> + +<p>"Now tell me," Dr. Whitsen continued. "Dr. Ballardyce is your usual +medical attendant, is he not?"</p> + +<p>"I know him very well; he is an old friend of mine, but I've never had +occasion to trouble him much," was the answer, given with some greater +care and reserve.</p> + +<p>"I will call on him as I go by, and if possible we will come down +together in the afternoon," the doctor said; and then Maurice fetched +him writing materials from the other room, and he sat down at the little +table. Before he went, he gave some general directions; then the two +friends were left alone.</p> + +<p>Lionel took up the pencil again, and turned to the block of paper.</p> + +<p>"The £300, Maurice," his trembling fingers scrawled, showing<!-- Page 380 --><span class="pagenum">{380}</span> how his +mind was still torturing itself with those obligations.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," Maurice answered, lightly. "You give me Lord +Rockminster's address, and I'll take the check to him myself as soon as +the doctors have been here in the afternoon. Don't you worry about that, +Linn, or about anything; for you know you mustn't increase that +feverishness, or we shall have you a right-down, <i>bona-fide</i> patient on +our hands; and then when will you get back to the theatre again? I am +going out now to telegraph to Lehmann. But I don't think I need alarm +the Winstead people; you see, they don't read the Sunday papers; and, +indeed, if I send a note now to Francie, she will get it the first thing +in the morning. Linn," he continued, after a moment's hesitation, "are +you too much upset by your own affairs to listen to a bit of news? I +came with the intention of telling you, but perhaps I'd better wait +until you get over these present troubles."</p> + +<p>Lionel looked at him, with those bright, restless eyes, for a second or +two, as if to gather something from his expression; and then he wrote:</p> + +<p>"Is it about Francie?"</p> + +<p>Maurice nodded; it was enough. Lionel stretched out his hot hand and +took that of his companion.</p> + +<p>"I am glad," he said, in a low voice. And then, after a moment or two's +thinking, he turned to his writing again: "Well, it <i>is</i> hard, Maurice. +I have been looking forward to this for many a day, and have been +wondering how I should congratulate you both. And I get the news +now—when I'm ruined. I haven't enough money even to buy a +wedding-present for Francie!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think she will mind that?" Mangan said, cheerfully. "But I'm +going to send her your good wishes, Linn—now, when I write. And look +here, if she should come up to see you, or your father and mother—for +it is quite possible the doctors may insist on your giving your voice a +rest for a considerable while—well, if they should come up from +Winstead, mind you say nothing about your monetary troubles. They +needn't be mentioned to anybody, nor need they worry you; I dare say I +shall be able to get something more done; it will be all right. Only, if +the Winstead people should come up, don't you say anything to them about +these monetary affairs, or connect me with them;<!-- Page 381 --><span class="pagenum">{381}</span> for it might put me +into an awkward position—you understand?"</p> + +<p>And the last words Lionel wrote on the block of paper before Mangan went +out to execute his various commissions were these:</p> + +<p>"You are a good friend, Maurice."</p> + +<p>When the doctors arrived in the afternoon, Mangan had come back. They +found Lionel complaining of acute headache and a burning thirst; his +skin hot and dry; pulse full and quick; also, he seemed drowsy and +heavy, though his eyes retained their restless brightness. There could +be no doubt, as they privately informed Maurice, he was in the first +stages of a violent fever; and the best thing that could be done was to +get in a professional nurse at once. Yes, Mr. Mangan might communicate +with his friends; his father, being himself a doctor, would judge +whether it were worth while coming up just then; but, of course, it +would be inadvisable to have a lot of relations crowding the sick-room. +Obviously, the immediate cause of the fever was the chill caught on the +previous night, but there might have been predisposing causes; and +everything calculated to excite the mind unduly was to be kept away from +him. As for the throat, there were no dangerous symptoms as yet; the +simple congestion would probably disappear, when the fever abated, with +a return to health; but the people at the theatre might as well know +that it would be a long time before Mr. Moore could return to his +duties. Dr. Ballardyce would see at once about having a professional +nurse sent; meanwhile, quiet, rest, and the absence of mental +disturbance were the great things. And so the two augurs departed.</p> + +<p>The moment that Mangan returned to Lionel's room, the latter glanced at +him quickly and furtively.</p> + +<p>"Are they gone, Maurice?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And the check—for Lord Rockminster?"</p> + +<p>"There it is, already drawn out," was the answer, as the slip of lilac +paper was unfolded; "but I can't take it to him until the nurse +comes—certainly not."</p> + +<p>"She may be an hour, Maurice," Lionel said, restlessly. "I don't want +anybody to wait on me. If you think it necessary, call up Mrs. Jenkins, +and she can sit in the next room; the bell<!-- Page 382 --><span class="pagenum">{382}</span> here is enough. Oh, my +head!—my head!"—and he turned away, wearily.</p> + +<p>Maurice saw well enough that he would never rest until this money was +paid, so he called up the house-porter's wife and gave her some +instructions, and forthwith set off for the address in Palace Gardens +Terrace which Lionel had given him. When he arrived there, he was +informed that his lordship was not at home. He pressed his inquiries; he +said his business was of the utmost importance; and at last he elicited, +after considerable waiting, that, though no one in the house could say +whither Lord Rockminster had gone, it was understood that he was dining +at the Universities Club that evening. With this information Mangan +returned to Piccadilly. He found the nurse already arrived and +installed. He pacified Lionel with the news; for, if he went along to +the Universities Club at half-past eight, he must surely be able to +place the money in Lord Rockminster's own hands.</p> + +<p>"Maurice, you're awfully kind," his friend murmured. "And you've had +nothing to eat all day. Tell Mrs. Jenkins to get you something—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," Mangan said, carelessly. "I'll just scribble a +line to Francie, to tell her what the doctors have said; and I'll take +that down to the post myself. Then I'll get something to eat and come +back here; and at half-past eight I'm going along to Pall Mall, where +I'm certain to catch Lord Rockminster—so that it's all quite right and +straight, you see."</p> + +<p>But, as it chanced, when he went along to the Universities that evening, +he found he had missed his man—by only a minute or two. He was +surprised and troubled; he knew how Lionel would fret. The hall-porter +did not know whither Lord Rockminster had gone; that is to say, he +almost certainly did know, but it was not his business to tell. Luckily, +at this same moment, there was a young fellow leaving the club, and, as +he was lighting his cigar, he heard Maurice's inquiries—and perhaps was +rather struck by his appearance, which was certainly not that of a +sheriff's officer.</p> + +<p>"I think I can tell you where they have gone, sir," said the young man, +good-naturedly. "Some of them had an early dinner to-night, to go up to +the billiard handicap at the Palm-Tree;<!-- Page 383 --><span class="pagenum">{383}</span> I fancy Lord Rockminster was of +the party, and that you will find him there."</p> + +<p>This information proved correct. Mangan went up to the Palm-Tree Club in +St. James Street and sent in his card. Almost directly he was invited to +step up-stairs to the billiard-room. Just as he entered the door, he saw +Lord Rockminster leave the raised bench where he had been seated by the +side of a very artificial-looking palm-tree stem, and the next moment +the two men were face to face.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Mangan?" Lord Rockminster said, in his usual +impassive way. "You remember I had the pleasure of meeting you at my +sister's. What is the matter with your friend Mr. Moore?—I see by the +evening paper he is not to appear to-night."</p> + +<p>"He is far from well—a chill followed by a fever," Mangan answered. "I +have just come from him, with a message for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really," said the young nobleman. "Ah, I dare say I know; but I +assure you it is quite unnecessary. Tell him not to mind. When a +fellow's ill, why should he be troubled?"</p> + +<p>Maurice had taken out his pocket-book, and was searching for the lilac +slip.</p> + +<p>"But here is the check, Lord Rockminster; and nothing would do him but +that I must give it into your own hands."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really."</p> + +<p>Lord Rockminster took the check, and happened to glance at it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see this is drawn out by yourself, Mr. Mangan," he said. "I +presume—eh—that you have lent Mr. Moore the money?"</p> + +<p>Maurice hesitated, but there was no prevarication handy.</p> + +<p>"If you ask the question, it is so. However, I suppose it is all the +same."</p> + +<p>"All the same?—yes," Lord Rockminster said, slowly; "with only this +difference, that before he owed me the money, and now he owes it to you. +I don't see any necessity for that arrangement. I haven't asked him for +it; I sha'n't ask him for it until he is quite ready and able to pay; +why, therefore, should he borrow from you? Take back your check, Mr. +Mangan; I understand what you were willing to do for your friend; I +assure you it is quite uncalled for."<!-- Page 384 --><span class="pagenum">{384}</span></p> + +<p>But Maurice refused. He explained all the circumstances of the +case—Lionel's feverish condition, his fretting about the debt, the +necessity for keeping his mind pacified, and so on; and at last Lord +Rockminster said,</p> + +<p>"Very well; you can tell him you have given me the check. At the same +time you can't compel me to pay it into my bankers'; and I don't see why +I should take three hundred pounds of your money when you don't owe me +any. When Mr. Moore gets perfectly well again, you can tell him he still +owes me three hundred pounds—and he can take his own time about paying +it." And with that Maurice took his leave, Lord Rockminster going down +the stair with him and out to the hall-door, where he bade him good-bye.</p> + +<p>When he returned to Piccadilly, he said to the nurse,</p> + +<p>"I suppose you can sleep at a moment's notice?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well, sir," she answered, with a demure professional smile.</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better find out this room that Mrs. Jenkins has got for you, +and lie down for a few hours. I sha'n't be leaving until after +midnight—perhaps one or two o'clock. Then, when I go, you can have this +sofa here; and I shall be back early in the morning, to give you another +rest."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir."</p> + +<p>He went into the adjoining room.</p> + +<p>"Headache any better, Linn, my boy?" he asked, stooping over the bed.</p> + +<p>There was no answer for a second or two; then the eyes were opened, +showing a drowsy, pained expression.</p> + +<p>"Did you see him, Maurice?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, that's all settled," Mangan said, cheerfully. "I can't say +there is much of the grasping creditor about your friend. I could hardly +persuade him to take the check at all, after I had hunted him from place +to place. What made you so desperately punctilious, Linn? You don't +imagine he would have talked about it to any women-folk, even supposing +you had not paid up? Is that it? No, no, you can't imagine he would do +anything of that kind; I should call him a thoroughly good fellow, if +one might be so familiar with his betters. However, I don't want you to +say anything; you mustn't speak; I'm going to talk to you." He drew in a +chair to the bedside and<!-- Page 385 --><span class="pagenum">{385}</span> sat down. "Now I wish you to understand. +You've got a mortal bad cold, which may develop into a fever; and you +have a slightly congested throat; altogether you must consider yourself +an invalid, old man; and it may be some time before you can get back to +the theatre. Now the first thing for you is peace of mind; you're not to +worry about anything; you've got to dismiss every possible care and +vexation."</p> + +<p>"It's all you know, Maurice," the sick man said, with a wearied sigh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know more than you think. We'll just take one thing at a time. +About this eleven hundred pounds for example. You are aware I am not, +strictly speaking, a Crœsus, yet I have made my little economies, and +they are tied up in one or two fairly safe things. Well, now—Oh, be +quiet, Linn, and let me have it out! Something happened to me yesterday +that more than ever convinced me of the worthlessness of riches. You +know the coppice that goes up from Winstead station. At the farther end +there is a gate. At that gate yesterday I heard a dozen words—twenty or +thirty, perhaps—that were of more value to me than Pactolus in full +flood or all the money heaped up in Aladdin's cave. And now I am so +puffed up with joy and pride that I am going still further to despise my +wealth—my hoards and vast accumulations; and on Monday, if I can, I am +going to get you that eleven hundred pounds, just as sure as ever was—"</p> + +<p>"Maurice—you have to think of Francie," Lionel said, in his husky, low +voice. And here Mangan paused for a second or two.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, more thoughtfully, "what happened yesterday certainly +involves responsibilities; but these haven't been assumed yet; and the +nearest duty is the one to be considered. I don't know whether I shall +tell Francie; I may, or I may not; but I am certain that if I do she +will approve—certain as that I am alive."</p> + +<p>"I won't rob Francie," said Lionel, with a little moan of weariness or +pain.</p> + +<p>"You can't rob her of what she hasn't got," Mangan said, promptly. "I +know this, that if Francie knew you were in these straits and worrying +about it, she would instantly come up and offer you her own little +money—which is not a very large fortune, as I understand; and I also +know that you would refuse it."<!-- Page 386 --><span class="pagenum">{386}</span></p> + +<p>"A dose of prussic acid first," Lionel murmured, to himself.</p> + +<p>"Prussic acid!—Bosh!" said Maurice. "What is the use of talking +rubbish! Well, I'm not going to let you talk at all. I'm going to read +you the news out of the evening papers until you go to sleep."</p> + +<p>When Dr. Ballardyce called next morning, he found that the fever had +gained apace; all the symptoms were aggravated—the temperature, in +especial, had seriously increased. The sick man lay drowsily +indifferent, now and again moaning slightly; but sometimes he would +waken up, and then there was a curiously anxious and restless look in +his eyes. The nurse said she was afraid he had not been asleep at all, +though occasionally he had appeared to be asleep. When the doctor left +again, she was sent to bed, and Maurice Mangan took her place in the +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>That was an extraordinary Sunday, long to be remembered. Anything more +hopelessly dismal than the outlook from those Piccadilly windows it was +impossible to imagine. The gale of Friday had blown itself out in rain; +and that had been followed by stagnant weather and a continuous drizzle; +so that the trees in the Green Park opposite looked like black phantoms +in the vague gray mist; while everything seemed wet and clammy and cold. +Maurice paced up and down the room, his feet shod in noiseless slippers; +or he gazed out on that melancholy spectacle until he thought of +suicide; or again he would go into the adjoining apartment, to see how +his friend was getting on or whether he wanted anything. But as the day +wore on, matters became a little brisker; for there were numerous +callers, and some of them waited to have a special message sent down to +them; while others, knowing Mangan, and learning that he was in charge +of the invalid, came up to have a word with himself. Baskets of flowers +began to arrive, too; and these, of course, must have come from private +conservatories. No one was allowed to enter the sick-room; but Maurice +carried thither the news of all this kindly remembrance and sympathy, as +something that might be grateful to his patient.</p> + +<p>"You've got a tremendous number of friends, Linn, and no mistake," he +said. "Many a great statesman or poet might envy you."<!-- Page 387 --><span class="pagenum">{387}</span></p> + +<p>"I suppose it is in the papers?" Lionel asked, without raising his head.</p> + +<p>"In one or two of the late editions last evening, and in most of +to-day's papers; but to-morrow it will be all over the country. I have +had several London correspondents here this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"All over the country?" Lionel repeated, absently, and then he lay still +for a second or two. "No use—no use!" he moaned, in so low a voice that +Mangan could hardly hear. And then again he looked up wearily.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Maurice. I want to—to ask you something. If—if I were to +die—do you think—they would put it in any of the papers abroad?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense—what are you talking about?" Maurice exclaimed, in a +simulated anger. "Talking of dying—because you've got a feverish cold; +that's not like you, Linn! You're not going to frighten your people when +they come up from Winstead, by talking like that?"</p> + +<p>"Don't let them come up," was all he said, and shut his eyes again.</p> + +<p>Among the callers that afternoon who, learning that Mr. Mangan was +up-stairs, came personally to make inquiries, was Miss Burgoyne, who was +accompanied by her brother.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she said, briefly, to Maurice. "One never can +trust what is in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>He told her.</p> + +<p>"Serious?"</p> + +<p>"That depends," he said, in a low voice, as they stood together at the +window. "I hope not. But I suppose the fever will have to run its +course."</p> + +<p>"It will be some time before he can be back at the theatre?"</p> + +<p>"It will be a very long time. There is some slight congestion of the +throat as well. When he pulls through with the fever, he will most +likely be sent abroad, for rest to his throat."</p> + +<p>She considered for a second or two; then she said, with a matter-of-fact +air:</p> + +<p>"They needn't make a fuss about that. His throat will be all right. It +is only repeated congestions that seriously affect the membrane; and he +has been exceptionally lucky—or exceptionally strong, perhaps. Who is +his doctor?"<!-- Page 388 --><span class="pagenum">{388}</span></p> + +<p>"Dr. Ballardyce."</p> + +<p>"Don't know him."</p> + +<p>"Then there's Dr. Whitsen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>that's</i> all right—<i>he'll</i> do. It's the voice that's the important +thing; the general system must take its chance. Well, tell him I'm very +sorry. I suppose there's nothing one can send him?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I don't think there is anything. Look at the flowers and +grapes and things there—already—and this is Sunday."</p> + +<p>She glanced at those gifts with open disdain.</p> + +<p>"Very easy for rich folks to show their sympathy by sending an order to +their head-gardener!"</p> + +<p>"I will tell him that you called, and left kind messages for him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell him that. And tell him Doyle does very well—fairly +well—though he's as nervous as a pantomime-girl hoisted in a +transformation-scene. If I were you," continued this extremely practical +young lady, "I wouldn't tell any of the newspaper men that it may be a +considerable time before Mr. Moore is back. Nobody likes to lose touch +of the public more than he can help, you know; and if they're always +expecting you back, that's something. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>Maurice accompanied her down-stairs and to the door; then he returned to +the sitting-room and to his private meditations. For this brief +interview had been of the keenest interest to him; he had studied every +expression of her face, listened to every intonation of her voice; +almost forced, in spite of himself, to admire her magnificent nerve. But +now, of course, in recalling all these things, he was thinking of +Francie; as a man invariably does when he places the one woman of the +world on a pedestal, that all the rest of her sex may be compared with +her; and even his extorted admiration of the prima-donna's coolness and +self-possession and business-like tact did not prevent his rejoicing at +the thought that Francie and Miss Burgoyne were poles asunder.</p> + +<p>That evening Maurice was startled. He had gone very quietly into the +sick-room, just to see how his patient was getting on, and found him +breathing heavily and also restlessly muttering to himself. Perhaps even +the slight noise of his entrance had<!-- Page 389 --><span class="pagenum">{389}</span> attracted the notice of one +abnormally sensitive; at all events, Lionel opened his eyes, which were +no longer drowsy, but eager and excited, and said,</p> + +<p>"Maurice, have you not sent for Nina yet?"</p> + +<p>"For Nina?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes," Lionel went on, as quickly as his laboring breath would +allow. "How can I go abroad without saying good-bye to Nina? Tell +Jenkins to go down to Sloane Street at once—at once, Maurice—before +she leaves for the theatre. I have been waiting for her all day—I heard +the people coming up—one after another—but not Nina. And I cannot go +without saying good-bye. I want to tell her something. She must make +friends with Miss Burgoyne, now she has got into the theatre. Lehmann +will give her a better part by and by—oh, yes, I'll see to that for +Nina—and I must write to Pandiani, to tell him of her success—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that's all settled, Linn," his friend broke in, perceiving the +situation at once. "Now you just keep quiet, and it will be all +perfectly arranged—perfectly. Of course I know you are glad your old +friend and companion has got a place in the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was my friend—she was my friend once," he said, and he looked +appealingly at Maurice? "but—but I sometimes think—sometimes it is my +head—that there is something wrong. Can you tell me, Maurice? There is +something—I don't know what—but it troubles me—I cannot tell what it +is. When she was here to-day, she would not speak to me. She came and +looked. She stood by the door there. She had on the black dress and the +crimson bonnet—but she had forgotten her music. I thought, perhaps, she +was going down to the theatre—but why wouldn't she speak to me, +Maurice? She did not look angry—she looked like—like—oh, just like +Nina—and I could not ask her why she would not say anything—my throat +was so bad—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that, Linn," Maurice said, gently, "and that is why you +mustn't talk any more now. You must lie still and rest, so that you may +take your place in the theatre again—"</p> + +<p>"But haven't they told you I am never going to the theatre again?" he +said, eagerly. "Oh, no; as soon as I can I am going away abroad—I am +going away all over the world—to find some<!-- Page 390 --><span class="pagenum">{390}</span> one. You said she was my +friend and my good comrade—do you think I could let her be away in some +distant place, and all alone? I could not rest in my grave! It may be +Malta, or Cairo, or Australia, or San Francisco; but that is what I am +set on. I have thought of it so long that—that I think my head has got +tired, and my heart a little bit broken, as they say, only I never +believed in that. Never mind, Maurice, I am going away to find Nina—ah, +that will be a surprise some day—a surprise just as when she first came +here—into the room—in the black dress and the crimson bonnet—<i>la +cianciosella</i>, she was going away again!—she was always so proud and +easily offended—always the <i>cianciosella</i>!"</p> + +<p>He turned a little, and moaned, and lay still; and Maurice, fearing that +his presence would only add to this delirious excitement, was about to +slip from the room, when his sick friend called him back.</p> + +<p>"Maurice, don't forget this now! When she comes again, you must stand by +her at the door there, and tell her not to be frightened: I am not so +very ill. Tell Nina not to be frightened. She used not to be frightened. +Ask her to remember the afternoons when I had the broken ankle—she and +Sabetta Debernardi used to come nearly every day—and Sabetta brought +her zither—and Nina and I played dominoes. Maurice, you never heard +Nina sing to herself—just to herself, not thinking—and sometimes +Sabetta would play a <i>barcarola</i>—oh, there was one that Nina used to +sing sometimes—'<i>Da la parte de Castelo</i>—<i>ziraremo mio tesoro</i>—<i>mio +tesoro!</i>—<i>la passara el Bucintoro</i>—<i>per condur el Dose in mar'</i>—I +heard it last night again—but—but all stringed instruments—and the +sound of wind and waves—it was so strange and terrible—when I was +listening for Nina's voice. I think it was at Capri—along the +shores—but it was night-time—and I could not hear Nina because of the +wind and the waves. Oh, it was terrible, Maurice! The sea was roaring +all round the shores—and it was so black—only I thought if the water +were about to come up and drown me, it might—it might take me away +somewhere—I don't know where—perhaps to the place where Nina's ship +went down in the dark. Why did she go away, Maurice?—why did she go +away from us all?—the poor <i>cianciosella</i>!"</p> + +<p>These rambling, wearied, broken utterances were suddenly<!-- Page 391 --><span class="pagenum">{391}</span> arrested: +there was a tapping at the outer door—and Lionel turned frightened, +anxious eyes on his friend.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see who it is," Mangan said, quietly. "Meanwhile you must +lie perfectly quiet and still, Linn, and be sure that everything will +come right."</p> + +<p>In the next room, at the open door, he found the reporter of a daily +newspaper which was in the habit of devoting a column every Monday +morning to music and musicians. He was bidden to enter. He said he +wished to have the last authentic news of the condition of the popular +young baritone, for of course there would be some talk, especially in +"the profession," about Mr. Moore's non-appearance on the preceding +night.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Maurice, in an undertone, "don't publish anything alarming, +you know, for he has friends and relatives who are naturally anxious. +The fever has increased somewhat; that is the usual thing; a nervous +fever must run its course. And to-night he has been slightly +delirious—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, delirious?" said the reporter, with a quick look.</p> + +<p>"Slightly—slightly—just wandering a little in his feverishness. I +wouldn't make much of it. The public don't care for medical details. +When the crisis of the fever comes, there will be something more +definite to mention."</p> + +<p>"If all goes well, when do you expect he will be able to return to the +New Theatre?"</p> + +<p>"That," said Maurice, remembering Miss Burgoyne's hint, "it is quite +impossible to say."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said the reporter. "Good-night." And therewith Mangan returned +to the sick-room.</p> + +<p>He found that Lionel had forgotten all about having been startled into +silence by the tapping at the outer door. His heated brain was busy with +other bewildering possibilities now.</p> + +<p>"Maurice—Maurice!" he said, eagerly. "It is near the time—quick, +quick!—get me the box—behind the music—on the piano—"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Linn," said his friend, with some affectation of asperity, +"you must really calm yourself and be silent, or I shall have to go and +sit in the other room. You are straining your throat every time you +speak, and exciting yourself as well."<!-- Page 392 --><span class="pagenum">{392}</span></p> + +<p>"Ah, and it is my last chance!" Lionel said, piteously, and with burning +eyes. "If you only knew, Maurice, you would not refuse!"</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me quietly what you want," Mangan said.</p> + +<p>"The box—on the top of the piano," Lionel made answer, in a low voice, +but his eyes were tremblingly anxious. "Quick, Maurice!"</p> + +<p>Mangan went and without any difficulty found the box that held Nina's +trinkets, and returned with it.</p> + +<p>"Open it!" Lionel said, clearly striving to conceal his excitement. +"Yes, yes—put those other things aside—yes, that is it—the two +cups—take them separate; it isn't twelve yet, is it? No, no; there will +be time; now put them on the table by the window there—yes, that is +it—now pour some wine into them—never mind what, Maurice, only be +quick!"</p> + +<p>Well, he could not refuse this appeal; he thought that most likely the +yielding to these incoherent wishes would prove the best means of +pacifying the fevered mind; so he went into the next room and brought +back some wine, and half filled the two tiny goblets.</p> + +<p>"Now, wait, Maurice," Lionel said, slowly, and in a still lower voice, +though his eyes were afire. "Wait and watch—closely, closely—don't +breathe or speak. It is near twelve. Watch! Do not take your eyes off +them; and at twelve o'clock, when you see one of the cups move, then you +must seize it—seize it, and seize Nina's hand!—and hold her fast! Oh, +I can tell you she will not leave us any more—not when I have spoken to +her and told her how cruel it was of her to go away. I do not know where +she is now; but at twelve, all of a sudden, there will be a kind of +trembling of the air—that is Nina—for she has been here before; how +long to twelve now, Maurice?" he asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is a long time till twelve yet," his friend said. "I think, if I +were you, I would try to sleep for an hour or two; and I'll go into the +other room so as not to disturb you."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Maurice," Lionel said, with panting vehemence. "You must not +stir! It is quite near, I tell you—it is close on twelve—watch the +cups, Maurice, and be ready to spring up and seize her hand and hold her +fast. Quite near twelve—surely I hear something—it is something +outside the window—like<!-- Page 393 --><span class="pagenum">{393}</span> stringed instruments—and waves, dark +waves—no, no! Maurice, Maurice! it is in the next room!—it is some one +sobbing!—it is Nina!—Nina!"</p> + +<p>He uttered a loud shriek and struggled wildly to raise himself; but +Maurice, with gentle pressure and persuasive words, got him to lie +still.</p> + +<p>"It is past twelve now, Linn; and you see there has been nothing. We +must wait; and some day we will find out all about Nina for you. Of +course you would like to know about your old companion. Oh, we'll find +her, rest assured!"</p> + +<p>Lionel had turned away, and was lying moaning and muttering to himself. +The only phrase his companion could make out was something about "a +wide, wide sea—and all dark."</p> + +<p>But Maurice, finding him now comparatively quiet, stealthily put back +the various trinkets into the box and carried it into the other room. +And then, hearing no further sound, he remained there—remained until +the nurse came down to take his place.</p> + +<p>He told her what had occurred; but she was familiar with these things, +and doubtless knew much better than himself how to deal with such +emergencies. At the street-door he paused to light his pipe—his first +smoke that day, and surely well-earned. Then he went away through the +dark thoroughfares down to Westminster, not without much pity and +sadness in his mind, also perhaps with some curious speculations—as to +the lot of poor, luckless mortals, their errors and redeeming virtues, +and the vagrant and cruel buffetings of fate.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h4>FRIENDS IN NEED.</h4> + + +<p>On the Monday morning matters were so serious that Mangan telegraphed +down to Winstead; but the old doctor and his wife and Francie were +already on their way to town. When they arrived in Piccadilly, and went +into the sick-room, Lionel did not know them; most likely he merely +confused them with the crowding phantoms of his brain. He was now in a +high state of fever, but the delirium was not violent; he lay murmuring +and moaning, and it was only chance phrases they could catch—about<!-- Page 394 --><span class="pagenum">{394}</span> +some one being lost—and a wide and dark sea—and so forth. Sometimes he +fancied that Nina was standing at the door, and he would appeal +piteously to her, and then sink back with a sigh, as if convinced once +more that it was only a vision. The Winstead people took apartments for +themselves at a hotel in Half-Moon Street; but of course they spent +nearly all their time in this sitting-room, where they could do little +but listen to the reports of the doctors, and wait and hope.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Mangan said,</p> + +<p>"Francie, you're not used to sitting in-doors all day; won't you come +out for a little stroll in the Park over there?"</p> + +<p>"And I'm sure you want a breath of fresh air as much as any one, Mr. +Mangan," the old lady said. "What would my boy have done without you all +this time?"</p> + +<p>Francie at once and obediently put on her things, and she and Maurice +went down-stairs and crossed the street and entered the Park, where they +could walk up and down the unfrequented ways and talk as they pleased.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will be going down to the House of Commons almost +directly?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," he answered. "I've begged off. I could not think of getting to +work while Linn is so ill as that."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what I have been thinking all day, Maurice?" she said, +gently. "When I saw you with the doctors, and when I heard of all you +have done since Saturday morning—well, I could not help thinking that +there must be something fine about Lionel to have secured him such a +friend."</p> + +<p>He looked at her with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"But you have been his friend—all these years!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's different; we were brought up together. Tell me—the Nina he +is always talking about—I suppose that is the Italian girl who was at +the theatre, and whom he knew in Naples—he used to write home about +her—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf394" id="illusf394"></a> +<img src="images/illusf394.jpg" alt=""He uttered a loud shriek, and struggled wildly to raise +himself."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>He uttered a loud shriek, and struggled wildly to raise +himself.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"Yes," he said; "and it is only now I am beginning to understand +something of the situation. I do believe mental distress has had as much +to do with bringing on this fever as anything else; the chill may have +been only an accident that developed it. I told you when I saw him, +before he was struck down, how he seemed to be all at sixes and sevens +with himself—everything wrong—worried, harassed, and sick of life, +though <!-- Page 395 --><span class="pagenum">{395}</span>he would hardly explain anything; he was always too proud to +ask for pity. Well, now, I am piecing together a story, out of these +incoherent appeals and recollections that come into his delirium; and if +I am right, it is a sad enough one, for it seems to me so hopeless. I +believe he was all the time in love with that Nina—Miss Ross—and did +not know it; for their association, their companionship, was so +constant, so like an intimate friendship. Then there seems to have been +some misunderstanding, and she went away unexpectedly—there is a box of +jewels and trinkets on the top of the piano, and I am certain these were +what she sent back to him when she left. I don't think he has the +slightest idea where she is; and that is troubling him more than +anything else—"</p> + +<p>"But, Maurice," said Francie, instantly, "could we not find out where +she is?—surely she would come and see him and pacify his mind; it would +just make all the difference! Surely we could find out where she is!"</p> + +<p>Mangan hesitated; it was not the first time this idea had occurred to +himself.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," said he, "that, even if we knew where she was, it would +be rather awkward to approach her. There may have been something about +her going away that prevented Linn from trying to find her out. For one +thing, his engagement to Miss Burgoyne. I believe he blundered into that +in a sort of reckless despair; but there it is; and there it is likely +to be, unfortunately—"</p> + +<p>"But surely, surely, Maurice," said Francie, "Miss Ross would not make +that any obstacle if she knew that her coming would give peace and rest +to one who is dangerously ill. Surely she would not think of such a +thing at such a time—"</p> + +<p>"And then again," he said, "the chances are all against our finding her, +if she wishes to remain concealed, or even absent. Linn talks of Malta, +of Australia, of San Francisco, and so on; but I don't believe he has +the slightest idea where she is. No, I'm afraid it's no use thinking of +it; the crisis of the fever will be here before any such thing could be +tried."</p> + +<p>Then he said, presently,</p> + +<p>"I had a visit from Miss Burgoyne yesterday afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she was terribly distressed," Francie said, naturally +enough.<!-- Page 396 --><span class="pagenum">{396}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no. On the contrary, she was remarkably cool and composed. I almost +admired her self-possession. She does not think Lionel's throat will +suffer; and no doubt she trusts to his sound constitution to pull him +through the fever; so perhaps there is not much reason that she should +betray any anxiety. Oh, yes, she was very brave about it—and—and +business-like. At the same time I confess to a sort of prejudice in +favor of feminine women. I think a little touch of femininity might +improve Miss Burgoyne, for example. However, she knows she is in +possession; and if Linn pulls through all right, there she is, waiting +for him."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Francie that her companion had managed to form a pretty +strong dislike towards that young lady, considering how little he could +possibly know of her.</p> + +<p>"I suppose one ought not to contemplate such things," he continued, "but +if Linn were to come out of the fever with the loss of his voice, I +suspect he would have little trouble in freeing himself from that +engagement with Miss Burgoyne."</p> + +<p>"But surely a woman could not be so base as to keep a man to an +unwilling engagement!" Francie protested, as she had protested before.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," her companion said. "As I told you, Miss +Burgoyne is a business-like person. Linn, with his handsome figure and +his fine voice, with his popularity and social position, is a very +desirable match for her; but Linn become a nobody—his voice gone—his +social success along with it—would be something entirely different. At +the same time, Dr. Whitsen agrees with her in thinking there won't be +any permanent injury; it is the fever that is the serious thing."</p> + +<p>They went back to the house; the reports were no better. And all that +night Lionel's fevered imaginings did not cease. He was haunted now by +visions of cruelties and sufferings being inflicted on some one he knew +in a far-distant land; he pleaded with the torturers; he called for +help; sometimes he said she was dead and released, and there was no more +need for him to go away in a ship to seek for her. The wearied brain +could get no rest at all. Daylight came, and still he lay there, moaning +and murmuring to himself. But help was at hand.</p> + +<p>Between ten and eleven, Dr. Ballardyce, who had paid his usual morning +visit, was going away, and Maurice, as his custom<!-- Page 397 --><span class="pagenum">{397}</span> was, went down-stairs +with him to hear the last word. He said good-bye to the doctor and +opened the door for him; and just as he did so he found before him a +young woman who was about to ring the bell. She glanced up with +frightened eyes; he was no less startled; and then, with a hurried "I +beg your pardon," she turned to go away. But Maurice was by her side in +a moment—bareheaded as he was.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ross!" he exclaimed—for surely, surely, he could not have +mistaken the pale olive face and the beautiful, soft, dark, lustrous +eyes; nay, he made bold to put his hand on her arm, so determined was he +to detain her.</p> + +<p>"I—I only wished to hear how he was—but—but not that he should know," +Nina said (she was all trembling, and her lips were pale).</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Mangan said. "But you must not go away—I have something to +tell you—come in-doors! You know he is seriously ill—you cannot +refuse!"</p> + +<p>There was but an intervening step or two; she timidly followed and +entered the little hall; and he closed the door after them.</p> + +<p>"Is he so very ill?" she said, in a low voice. "I saw it in the +newspapers—I could not wait—but he is not to know that I came—"</p> + +<p>"But—but I have something to say to you," he answered her, somewhat +breathlessly, for he was uncertain what to do; he only knew that she +must not go. "Yes, he is very ill—and distressed—his brain is +excited—and we want to calm him. Surely you will come and speak to +him—"</p> + +<p>She shrank back involuntarily, and there was a pathetic fear in the +large, timid eyes.</p> + +<p>"Me? No—no!" she said. "Ah, no, I could not do that! Is he so very +ill?"</p> + +<p>Tears stood in the long, black lashes, and she turned her head away.</p> + +<p>"But you don't understand," Maurice said, eagerly. "All the way through +this illness, it is about you he has been grieving; you have never been +out of his thoughts; and if you saw his distress, I know you would do +anything in your power to quiet him a little. It is what his cousin said +yesterday. 'If we could only find Miss Ross,' she said, 'that would be +everything;<!-- Page 398 --><span class="pagenum">{398}</span> that would bring him rest; he would be satisfied that she +was well, and remembering him, and not gone away forever.' I never +expected to see you; I thought it was useless trying to find you; but +now—now—you cannot be so cruel as to refuse him this comfort! You +would be sorry if you saw him. Perhaps he might not recognize +you—probably not. But if you could persuade him that you really were in +London—that you would come some other day soon to see him again—I know +that would pacify him, just when peace of mind is all-important. Now, +can you refuse?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," Nina said, in a low voice; "you will do with me what you like. +It is no matter—what it is to me. Do with me as you please." And then +again she turned her large, dark eyes upon him, as if to make sure he +was not deceiving her. "Did you say that—that he remembered me—that he +had asked for me?"</p> + +<p>"Remember you! If you only could have heard the piteous way he has +talked of you—always and always—and of your going away. I have such a +lot I could tell you! He had those loving-cups filled one night—there +was some fancy in his head he could call you back—"</p> + +<p>She was sobbing a little; but she bravely dried her tears, and said,</p> + +<p>"Tell me what I am to do."</p> + +<p>But that was precisely what he did not know himself—for a moment. He +considered.</p> + +<p>"Come up-stairs," he said. "His family are there. I will tell him a +visitor has called to see him. He often thinks you are there, but that +you won't speak to him. Well, you will just say a few words, to convince +him, and as quietly as you can, and come out again. Perhaps he will take +it all as a matter of course; and that will be well; and I will tell him +you will come again, after he has had some sleep. Of course you must be +very calm too; there must be no excitement."</p> + +<p>"No, no," Nina murmured, in the same low voice, and she followed him +up-stairs.</p> + +<p>On entering the sitting-room she glanced apprehensively at those +strangers; but Francie, divining in an instant who she was and why +Maurice had brought her hither, immediately came to her and pressed her +hand, in silence.<!-- Page 399 --><span class="pagenum">{399}</span></p> + +<p>Maurice went into the sick-room.</p> + +<p>"Linn," said he, cheerfully, "I've brought you a visitor; but she can't +stay very long; she will come again some other time. You've always been +asking about Miss Ross, and why she didn't come to see you; well, here +she is!"</p> + +<p>Lionel slowly opened his tired eyes and looked towards the door; but he +seemed to take no interest in the girl who was standing there, pale, +trembling, and quite forgetting all she had been enjoined to do. Lionel, +with those restless, fatigued eyes, regarded her for but a second—then +he turned away, shaking his head. He had seen that illusory phantom so +often!</p> + +<p>"Linn," said his friend, reproachfully, "when Miss Ross comes to see +you, are you not going to say a word to her?"</p> + +<p>It was Nina herself who interrupted him. She uttered a little cry of +appeal and pity—"Leo!" She went quickly forward, and threw herself on +her knees by the bedside, and seized his hand, and bathed it with her +hot tears. "Leo, do you not know me! I am Nina! If you wish me to come +back—see! see!—I am here! I kiss your hand—it is Nina!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her strangely, and turned with bewildered eyes to Maurice.</p> + +<p>"Maurice, is it twelve o'clock? Has she really come this time? Did you +hear her speak just now? Is it Nina—at last! at last!"</p> + +<p>With her head still bowed down, and her whole frame shaken with her +sobbing, but still clasping his hand, she murmured to him some +phrase—Maurice guessed it was in the familiar Neapolitan dialect; for +Lionel presently said to her—slowly, because of his heavy breathing:</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are still <i>la cianciosella</i>!—but you have come back—and not +to go away. I have forgotten so many things. My head is not well. But +wait a little while, Nina—wait a little while—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Leo," she said, and she rose and dried her eyes, with her head +turned aside somewhat. "I will wait until you have plenty of time to +tell me. I shall come and see you whenever you want me."</p> + +<p>She looked at Maurice humbly for directions; his eyes plainly said—yes, +it was time she should withdraw. She went into the other room—rather +blindly, as it seemed to her—and she<!-- Page 400 --><span class="pagenum">{400}</span> sank into a chair, still +trembling and exhausted; but Francie was by her side in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Did he know you?" she asked in an undertone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think," Nina answered. "But oh, he looks so strange—so +different. He has suffered. It is terrible; but I am glad that I came—"</p> + +<p>"It is so kind of you—for I see you are so tired!" said Francie, in her +gentle way. "Perhaps you have been travelling?"</p> + +<p>"Only last night—but I did not sleep any—"</p> + +<p>"Shall I get you some tea?" was the next inquiry.</p> + +<p>But here the old doctor, who had been stealthily moving about the room, +interfered, and produced a biscuit-box and a decanter of port wine and a +glass; while the old lady begged Miss Ross to take off her cloak and +remain with them a little while. At this moment Mangan came out from the +sick-room.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," said he in a whisper, "you must go in presently; I think +you'll see a difference. He is quite pleased and content—talking to +himself a little, but not complaining any more. Twice he has said, +'Maurice, Nina has spoken at last.'"</p> + +<p>There was a tinkle of a bell; Maurice answered it with the swiftness of +a nurse in a hospital. He returned in a minute, looking a little +puzzled.</p> + +<p>"He wants to make quite sure you have been here," he said to Nina, in +the same undertone; "and I told him you were in the next room, but that +you were tired, and could not see him just now. No, I don't think it +would do for you to go back at present—what do you say, doctor?—he +seems so much more tranquil, and it would be a pity to run any risk. But +if you could just let him know you were here—he might hear your talking +to us—that would be no harm—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf400" id="illusf400"></a> +<img src="images/illusf400.jpg" alt=""She threw herself on her knees by the bedside and +seized his hand."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>She threw herself on her knees by the bedside and +seized his hand.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"I know how to tell Leo that I am here," Nina said, simply; and she went +to the piano and opened it. Then, with the most exquisite softness, she +began to play some familiar Neapolitan airs—slowly and gently, so that +they must have sounded in the sick-chamber like mere echoes of song +coming from across wide waters. And would he not understand that it was +Nina who was speaking to him; that she was only a few yards from him; +and not the ghostly Nina who had so often come to the sick-room door and +remained there strangely silent, but the wilful, gentle, capricious, +warm-hearted <i>cianciosella</i> who had<!-- Page 401 --><span class="pagenum">{401}</span> kissed his hand but a little +while ago, and wept over it, amid her bitter sobs. These were love-songs +for the most part that she was playing; but that was neither here nor +there; the soft, rippling notes were more like the sound of a trickling +waterfall in some still summer solitude. "<i>Cannetella, oje Cannetè!</i>" +"<i>Chello che tu me dice, Nenna, non boglio fà.</i>" "<i>Io te voglio bene +assaje, e tu non pienz' a me!</i>" He would know it was Nina who was +playing for him—until slowly and more slowly, and gently and more +gently, the velvet-soft notes gradually ceased, and at length there was +silence.</p> + +<p>Old Mrs. Moore went over to the girl and patted her affectionately on +the shoulder and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Lionel has told us a great deal about you," the old lady said; "even +when he was in Naples we seemed to know you quite well; and now I hope +we shall be friends."</p> + +<p>And Nina made answer, with downcast eyes:</p> + +<p>"Whenever you wish it, madame, I shall be glad to come and play a +little—if he cares to hear the Neapolitan airs that he used to know in +former days."</p> + +<p>Yes, there was no doubt that this opportune visit had made a great +difference in Lionel's condition; for, though the fever did not +abate—and could not be expected to abate until the crisis had been +reached, there were no more of those agonized pleadings and murmurings +that showed such deep distress of mind. Frequently, indeed, he seemed to +know nothing of what had occurred; he would talk of Nina as being in +Naples or as having gone down to the theatre; but all the same he was +more tranquil. As for Nina, she said she would do just as they wished. +She had arrived in London that morning, and had gone to Mrs. Grey's, in +Sloane Street, and engaged a room. She could go down there now, and wait +until she was sent for, if they thought it would please Lionel to know +that one of his former companions had come to see him. She put it very +prettily and modestly; it was only as an old ally and comrade of +Lionel's that she was here; perhaps he might be glad to know of her +presence. Or, if they thought that might disturb him, she would not come +back at all; she would be content to hear, from time to time, how the +fever was going on, if she might be permitted to call and ask the people +below.</p> + +<p>It was Maurice who answered her.<!-- Page 402 --><span class="pagenum">{402}</span></p> + +<p>"If you don't mind, Miss Ross," said he, "I should like you to be here +just as much as ever you found convenient. I keep telling Lionel you are +in the next room; and that, at any moment he wants, you will play some +of those Neapolitan airs for him; and he seems satisfied. It has been +the worst part of his delirium that he fancied you were away in some +distant place and were being cruelly ill-used, and he has excited +himself dreadfully about it. Well, we don't want that to come back; and +if at any moment I can say, 'But look!—here is Nina'—I beg your +pardon!" said Mangan, blushing furiously, and looking as sheepish as a +caught school-boy. "I mean if I could say to him, 'Look! here is Miss +Ross, perfectly safe and well,' that would pacify him."</p> + +<p>"And if you are fatigued after your journey," said Dr. Moore, who was a +firm believer in the fine, old-fashioned fortifying theory, "we shall be +having our midday meal by and by, in a room up-stairs, and I'm sure +we'll make you heartily welcome."</p> + +<p>"And I think, my dear," said the mother, rising from her chair and +taking the girl kindly by the hand, "that if you and I and Francie were +to go up there now we should be more out of the way; and there would be +no chance of our talking being heard."</p> + +<p>It was at this plain but substantial midday meal, served in an up-stairs +room, that Nina incidentally told them something of her adventures and +experiences during the past six months, though, of course, nothing was +said about her reasons for leaving London. Maurice happened to inquire +where it was that she had heard of Lionel's illness.</p> + +<p>"In Glasgow," said Nina. "I saw about it in a newspaper yesterday; I +came up by the train last night, because—because—" here some slight +color appeared in the pale, clear complexion—"because if an old friend +is very ill one wishes to be near." And perhaps it was to escape from +this little embarrassment that she proceeded to say: "Oh, they are so +kind, the Glasgow people; I have never seen such domesticity." She +glanced at Maurice, as if to see whether the word was right; then she +went on. "When I was engaged by the director of the Saturday Evening +Concerts he told me that they had to change their singers frequently; +that if I wished to remain in Glasgow or Edinburgh I must sing at +private concerts and give lessons to have<!-- Page 403 --><span class="pagenum">{403}</span> continual employment. And +there was not much difficulty; oh, they are so enthusiastic, the Scotch +people, about music!—to sing in the St. Andrew's Hall or the City +Hall—and especially if you sing one of their own Scotch songs—the +enthusiasm, the applause—it is like fire going through the nerves. +Well, it is very pleasant, but it is not enough employment, even though +I get one or two other engagements, like the Edinburgh Orchestral +Festival. No, it is not enough; but then I began to sing at musical +evenings, in the fashionable private houses, and also to give lessons in +the daytime; and then it was I began to know the kindness of that +people, their consideration, their benignitance to a stranger, their +good-humor, and good wishes to you. Oh, a little brusque sometimes, the +father of a family, perhaps; the lady of the house and her +daughters—never! More than once a lady has said to me, 'What, are you +all alone in this big town?—my daughters will call for you to-morrow +and take you to the Botanic Gardens; and after you will come back to +tea.' Or, again, they have shown me photographs of a beautiful large +house—like a castle, almost—on the side of a hill, among trees; and +they say, 'That is our house in the summer; it is by the sea; if you are +here in the summer, you must come and stay with us, and you will play +lawn-tennis with the girls and go boating with them and fishing all day; +then every evening we will have a little concert—'"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," interposed the blunt-tongued doctor, "but do you +call that Scotch hospitality, Miss Ross?—to invite a professional +singer to their houses and get her services for nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, no, you mistake," said Nina, putting up the palm of her right +hand for a second. "You mistake. I was offered terms as well—generous, +oh, yes, very generous; but it was not that that impressed me—it was +their kindness—their admitting me into their domesticity—I have found +the mother as kind to me as to her own daughters. No airs of patronage; +they did not say, 'You are a foreigner; we cannot trust you;' they said, +'You are alone; come into our family, and be friends with us.' But not +at once; no, no; for at first I did not know any one—"</p> + +<p>"I should think it would be easy for you to make friends anywhere," said +Francie, in her gentle fashion.</p> + +<p>They did not linger long over that meal; it was hardly a time<!-- Page 404 --><span class="pagenum">{404}</span> for +feasting; indeed, Maurice had gone down before the others, to hear the +nurse's report. She had nothing to say; the sick-room had been so still, +she had not even ventured in, hoping the patient was asleep.</p> + +<p>That afternoon there were many callers; and Mangan, who went down to +such of them as wanted to have special intelligence, was pleased in a +way. "Well," he would say to himself, as he went up and down the stairs, +"the public have a little gratitude, after all, and even mere +acquaintances do think of you occasionally. It is something. But if you +should go under, if you should drop out from amid the universal +forward-hurrying throng, what then? If you have done something that can +be mentioned, in art or letters or science, the newspapers may toss you +a paragraph; or if you have been a notorious criminal or charlatan or +windbag, they may even devote a leader to you; but the multitude—what +time have they to think? A careless eye glances at the couple of +obituary lines that have been paid for by relatives; then onwards again. +Perhaps, here and there, one solitary heart is struck deep, and +remembers; but the ordinary crowd of one's acquaintances—what time have +they? Good-bye, friend!—but we are in such a hurry!" Nevertheless, he +was glad to tell Lionel of these callers, and of their flowers and cards +and messages and what not.</p> + +<p>On this Tuesday afternoon Miss Burgoyne also called; but, hearing that +there were some relations come, she would not go up-stairs. Maurice went +down to see her.</p> + +<p>"What brought on this fever?" she asked, after the usual inquiries.</p> + +<p>"A variety of causes, I should imagine," he answered. "The immediate one +was a severe chill."</p> + +<p>"They say he has lost all his money and is deeply in debt," she +observed.</p> + +<p>"Who says?" he demanded—too sharply, for he did not like this woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have heard of it," she answered.</p> + +<p>"It is not true then. I don't know of his being in debt at all; if he +is, he has friends who will see him through until he gets all right +again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," she said, apparently much relieved, "it is of no great +consequence, so long as his voice is not touched. With<!-- Page 405 --><span class="pagenum">{405}</span> his voice he can +always retrieve himself and keep well ahead. They do tell such stories. +Thank you, Mr. Mangan. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said he, with unnecessary coldness; why should a disciple of +Marcus Aurelius take umbrage at any manifestation of our common human +nature?</p> + +<p>She turned for a moment as he opened the door for her.</p> + +<p>"Tell him I called; and that his portrait and mine are to appear in this +week's <i>Footlights</i>—in the same number."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>When Dr. Ballardyce came that evening to make his usual examination, his +report was of a twofold character: the fever was still ravaging the now +enfeebled constitution—the temperature, in especial, being seriously +high; but the patient seemed much calmer in mind.</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said the doctor to Maurice, at the foot of the stairs, as he +was going away, "I should say that for the moment the delirium was quite +gone. But I did not speak much to him. Quiet is the great thing—sleep +above all."</p> + +<p>Then Maurice told him what had happened during the day, and asked him +whether, supposing they found Lionel quite sane and sensible, it would +be advisable to tell him that Miss Ross was in the house, or even ask +her to go and see him.</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say not—not unless he appears to be troubled again. His +present tranquillity of mind is everything that could be wished; I would +not try any unnecessary experiment. Probably he does not know now that +he has even seen her. Sometimes they have a vague recollection of +something having happened; more frequently the whole thing is forgotten. +Wait till we see how the fever goes; when he is convalescent—perhaps +then."</p> + +<p>But Maurice, on his own responsibility, went into the sick-room after +the doctor had left—went in on tip-toe, lest Lionel should be asleep. +He was not asleep. He looked at Mangan.</p> + +<p>"Maurice, come here," he said, in a hard-laboring voice.</p> + +<p>"You're not to talk, Linn," his friend answered, with a fine affectation +of carelessness. "I merely looked in to see how you were getting on. +There's no news. The government seem to be in a mess, but even their own +friends are ashamed of their<!-- Page 406 --><span class="pagenum">{406}</span> vacillation. They're talking of still +another lyric theatre; you'll have to save up your voice, Linn—by Jove! +you fellows will be in tremendous request. What else? Oh, nothing. +There's been a plucky thing done by a servant-girl in rescuing two +children from a fire—if there's a little testimonial to her, I'm in +with my humble guinea. But there's nothing in the papers—I'm glad I'm +not a leader-writer."</p> + +<p>He went and got some more water for a jug of white lilies that stood on +the table, and began to put things a little straight—as if he were a +woman.</p> + +<p>"Maurice!"</p> + +<p>"You're not to talk, Linn, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"I must—just a word," Lionel said, and Mangan was forced to listen. +"What does the doctor really say?"</p> + +<p>"About you?—oh, you're going on first-rate! Only you've to keep still +and quiet and not trouble about anything."</p> + +<p>"What day is this?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Tuesday."</p> + +<p>He thought for a little.</p> + +<p>"It—it was a Saturday I was taken ill? I have forgotten so many things. +But—but there's this, Maurice; if anything happens to me—the piano in +the next room—it belongs to me—you will give that to Francie for her +wedding-present. I would have—given her something more, but you know. +And if you ever hear of Nina Rossi, will you ask her to—to take some of +the things in a box you'll find on the top of the piano—they all +belonged to her—if she won't take them all back, she must take some—as +a—as a keepsake. She ought to do that. Perhaps she won't think I +treated her so badly—when it's all over—"</p> + +<p>He lay back exhausted with this effort.</p> + +<p>"Oh, stuff and nonsense, Linn!" his friend exclaimed, in apparent anger. +"What's the use of talking like that! You know you were worried into +this illness, and I want to explain to you that you needn't worry any +longer, that you've nothing to do but get well! Now listen—and be +quiet. To begin with, Lord Rockminster has got his three hundred +pounds—"</p> + +<p>"I remember about that—it was awfully good of you, Maurice—"</p> + +<p>"Be quiet. Then there's that diabolical eleven hundred pounds. Well, +things have to be faced," continued Mangan, with a matter-of-fact<!-- Page 407 --><span class="pagenum">{407}</span> air. +"It's no use sighing and groaning when you or your friends are in a +pickle; you've just got to make the best of it. Very well. Do you see +this slip of paper?—this is a check for eleven hundred pounds, drawn +out and signed by me, Maurice Mangan, barrister-at-law, and author of +several important works not yet written. I took it up this afternoon to +that young fellow's rooms in Bruton Street, to get a receipt for the +money, for I thought that would satisfy you better; but I found he was +in Paris. Never mind. There is the check, and I am going to post it +directly, so that he will get it the moment he returns—"</p> + +<p>"Maurice, you must ask Francie."</p> + +<p>"I will not ask Francie," his friend said, promptly. "Francie must +attend to her own affairs until she has acquired the legal right to +control me and mine. You needn't make a fuss about a little thing like +that, Linn. I can easily make it up; in fact, I may say I have already +secured a means of making it up, as a telegram I received this very +afternoon informs me. Here is the story: I can talk to you, if you may +not talk to me, and I want you to know that everything is straight and +clear and arranged. About ten days ago I had a letter from a syndicate +in the North asking me if I could write for them a weekly article—not a +London correspondent's news-letter—but a series of comments on the +important subjects of the day, outside politics. Outside politics, of +course; for I dare say they will supply this article to sixty or eighty +country papers. Very well. You know what a lazy wretch I am; I declined. +Then yesterday, when I was dawdling about the house here, it suddenly +occurred to me that after all I couldn't do better than sit down and +write to my enterprising friends in the North, and tell them that they +could have that weekly column of enlightenment, if they hadn't engaged +any one else, and if they were prepared to pay well enough for it. This +afternoon comes their answer; here it is: 'Offer still open? will four +hundred suit you?' Four hundred pounds a year will suit me very well."</p> + +<p>"Maurice, you're taking on all that additional work on my account," +Lionel managed to say, by way of feeble protest.</p> + +<p>"I am taking it on to cure myself of atrocious habits of indolence. And +look at the educational process. I shall have to read all the important +new books, and attend the Private Views, and examine the working local +government; bless you! I shall<!-- Page 408 --><span class="pagenum">{408}</span> become a compendium of information on +every possible modern subject. Then think of the power I shall wield; +let Quirk and his gang beware!—I shall be able to kick those +log-rollers all over the country—there will be a buffet for them here, +and a buffet for them there, until they'll go to their mothers and ask, +with tears in their eyes, why they ever were born. Or will it be worth +while? No. They are hardly important enough; the public don't heed them. +But the four hundred pounds is remarkably important—to any one looking +forward to having an extravagant spendthrift of a wife on his hands, and +so you see, Linn, everything promises well. And I will say good-night to +you now—though I am not leaving the house yet—oh, no!—you can send +the nurse for me if you want me. <i>Schlaf' wohl!</i>"</p> + +<p>The sick man murmured something unintelligible in reply, and then lay +still.</p> + +<p>Now Maurice Mangan had spoken of his dawdling about this house; but the +fact was that he had his hands full from morning till night. The mere +correspondence he had to answer was considerable. Then there were the +visitors and the doctors to be received, and the nurse to be looked +after, and the anxious mother to be appeased and reassured. Indeed, on +this evening, the old lady, hearing that her son was sensible, begged +and entreated to be allowed to go in and talk to him, and it took both +her husband and Maurice to dissuade her.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Mangan, "he's used to me; he doesn't mind my going in +and out; but if he finds you have all come up from Winstead, he may be +suddenly alarmed. Better wait until the crisis is over—then you may +take the place of the nurse whenever you like."</p> + +<p>Shortly thereafter the old people and Francie left for their hotel; then +Maurice had to see about Nina, whom they had left in the up-stairs room.</p> + +<p>"Just as you wish," she said, with a kind of pathetic humility in her +eyes. "If I can be of any service, I will stay all the night; a chair, +here, will be enough for me. Indeed, I should be glad to be allowed—"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said he, "at present you could not be of any use; you must get +away home and have a sound night's rest after your travelling. I have +just called the nurse; she will be down in a minute. And if you will put +on your things I will send<!-- Page 409 --><span class="pagenum">{409}</span> for a four-wheeled cab for you; or I will +walk along with you until we get one."</p> + +<p>All day long Nina had betrayed no outward anxiety; she had merely +listened intently to every word, watched intently the expression of +every face, as the doctors came and went. And now, as Mangan shut the +door behind them, he did not care to discuss the chances of the fever; +it was a subject all too uncertain and too serious for a few farewell +words. But there was one point on which, delicate as it might be, he +felt bound to question her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ross," said he, "I hope you won't think me impertinent. You must +consider I represent Lionel. I am in his place. Very well; he would +probably ask you, in coming so suddenly to London, whether you were +quite sufficiently provided with funds—you see I am quite blunt about +it—for your lodgings and cabs and so forth. I know he would ask you, +and you wouldn't be angry; well, consider that I ask you in his place."</p> + +<p>"I thank you," said Nina, in a low voice. "I understand. It is what Leo +would do—yes—he was always like that. But I have plenty. I have +brought everything with me. I do not go back to Glasgow."</p> + +<p>"No?" said he, and then, rather hesitatingly, for it was dangerous +ground, he added, "Wasn't it strange that, with you singing at those +public concerts in Glasgow, Lionel should never have seen your name in +the papers—should never have guessed where you were?"</p> + +<p>"I took another name—Signorina Teresa I was," Nina said, simply.</p> + +<p>"So you are not going back to Glasgow?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>"No. The concert season is about over there. Besides," she added, rather +sadly, "I have been—a little—a little homesick. The people there were +very kind to me, but I was much alone. So now—when Lionel is over the +worst of the fever—when he promises to get well—when you say to me I +can be of no more use—then I return to Naples to my friends."</p> + +<p>"Oh, to Naples? But what to do there?" he made bold to ask.</p> + +<p>"Ah, who knows?" said Nina, in so low a voice that he could hardly hear.</p> + +<p>He put her safely into a four-wheeled cab; then went back<!-- Page 410 --><span class="pagenum">{410}</span> to Lionel's +rooms to see that all arrangements were made for the night; finally he +set out for his own chambers in Westminster. No, it had not been a +dawdling day for him at all; on the contrary, he had not had time to +glance at a single newspaper, and now, as he got some hot drink for +himself and lit his pipe and hauled in an easy-chair to the fire, he +thought he would look over the evening journals. And about the first +paragraph he saw was headed, "Death of Sir Barrington Miles, M.P." Well, +it was a bit of a coincidence, he considered; nothing more; the £1100 +had been paid, and, apart from that circumstance, it must be confessed, +his interest in the Miles family was of the slightest. Only he wondered +what the young man was doing in Paris, with his father so near the point +of death.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h4>CHANGES.</h4> + + +<p>Shortly after ten on the Wednesday morning a young gentleman clad in +travelling costume drove up to the door of a house in Edgeware Road, got +out of the hansom, stepped across the pavement, and rang the bell. The +smart little maid-servant who answered the summons appeared to know him, +but was naturally none the less surprised by so early a visit.</p> + +<p>"Miss Burgoyne isn't down yet, sir!" she said, in answer to his +inquiries.</p> + +<p>"Very well, I will wait," said the young man, who seemed rather hurried +and nervous. "Will you tell her that I wish to see her on a matter of +great importance. She will know what it is."</p> + +<p>Well, it was not the business of this rosy-cheeked maid to check the +vagaries of impetuous lovers; she merely said,</p> + +<p>"Will you step up-stairs, sir; there's a fire in the morning-room."</p> + +<p>She led the way, and when she had left him in the bright little +chamber—where breakfast-things for one were laid on the table—she +departed to find, perhaps to arouse, her mistress. The young man went to +the window and stared into the street. He returned to the fire and +stared into the red flames. He took<!-- Page 411 --><span class="pagenum">{411}</span> up a newspaper that was on the +table and opened it, but could not fix his attention. And no wonder; for +he had just succeeded to a baronetcy and the extensive Petmansworth +estates; and he was determined to win a bride as well—even as he was on +his way to his father's funeral.</p> + +<p>It was some considerable time before Miss Burgoyne came down, and when +she did make her appearance she seemed none too well pleased by this +unconscionable intrusion; at the same time she had paid some little +attention to her face, and she wore a most charming tea-gown of pink and +sage-green.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said, rather coldly. "What now? I thought you had gone over +to Paris."</p> + +<p>"But don't you know what has happened?" he said, rather breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?"</p> + +<p>He took up the newspaper, opened it, and handed it to her in silence, +showing her a particular paragraph.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, with startled eyes, and yet she read the lines slowly, +to give time for consideration. And then she recollected that she ought +to express sympathy. "I am so very sorry—so sudden and unexpected; it +must have been such a shock to you. But," she added, after a +second—"but why are you here? You ought to have gone home at once."</p> + +<p>"I'm on my way home—I only got the telegram yesterday afternoon—I +reached London this morning," the young man said, disconnectedly; all +his eager and wistful attention was concentrated on her face; what +answer was about to appear there to his urgent prayer? "Don't you +understand why I am here, dear Kate?" said he, and he advanced a little, +but very timidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, really," said she, for she was bound to appear a trifle shocked, +"when such a dreadful thing happens—your father's sudden death—really +I think that should be the first thing in your mind; I think you ought +not to delay a moment in going home."</p> + +<p>"You think me heartless, but you don't understand," said he, eager to +justify himself in her eyes. "Of course I'm sorry. But my father and I +never got on very well; he was always trying to thwart me."<!-- Page 412 --><span class="pagenum">{412}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, but for the sake of mere outward form and decency," she ventured +to say.</p> + +<p>"That's just it!" he said, quickly. "I'll have to go away down there, +and I don't know how long I may be kept; and—and—I thought if I could +take with me some assurance that these altered circumstances would weigh +with you—you see, dear Kate, I am my own master now, I can do what I +like—and you know what it is I ask. Now tell me—you <i>will</i> be my wife! +I can quite understand your hesitating before; I was dependent upon my +father; if he had disapproved there might have been trouble; but now it +is different."</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne stood silent, her eyes fixed on the floor, her fingers +interclasped. He looked at her. Then, finding she had no answer for him, +a curious change of expression came over his face.</p> + +<p>"And if you hesitate now," he said, vindictively, "I know the reason, +and I know it is a reason you may as well put out of your mind. Oh, I am +quite aware of the shilly-shallying that has been going on between you +and that fellow Moore—I know you've been struck, like all the rest of +the women—but you may as well give up that fancy. Mr. Moore isn't much +of a catch, <i>now</i>!"</p> + +<p>She raised her head, and there was an angry flash in her eyes that for a +second frightened him.</p> + +<p>"Magnanimous!" she said, with a curl of her lip. "To taunt a man with +being ill, when perhaps he is lying on his death-bed!"</p> + +<p>"It is not because he is ill," he retorted, and his naturally pale face +was somewhat paler, "I dare say he'll get well enough again. It is +because he is dead broke and ruined. And do you know who did it?" he +went on, more impetuously still. "Well, I did it! I said I would break +him, and I broke him. I knew he was only playing with you and making a +fool of you, and I said to myself that I would have it out with +him—either he or I would have to go to the right about. I said I would +smash him, and I have smashed him. Do you see this check? That was +waiting for me at my rooms this morning. Eleven hundred pounds—that was +two days' work only, and I had plenty more before. But do you think it +is his check? Not a bit! It is drawn out by a friend of his. It is lent +him. He is just so<!-- Page 413 --><span class="pagenum">{413}</span> much the more in debt, and I don't believe he has a +farthing in the world. And that's the wonderful creature all you women +are worshipping!"</p> + +<p>Now this foolish boy ought to have taken care, but he had been carried +away on a whirlwind of jealous rage. All the time that he was pouring +forth his vengeful story, Miss Burgoyne's face had become more and more +hard; and when he ceased, she answered him, in low and measured tones +that conveyed the most bitter scorn.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "we women are worthy of being despised, when—when we +think anything of such creatures as men are capable of showing +themselves to be! Oh, it is a fine time to come and boast of what you +have done, when the man you hate—when the man you <i>fear</i>—is lying ill, +delirious, perhaps dying. That is the time to boast of your strength, +your prowess! And how dare you come to me," she continued, with a sudden +toss of her head, "with all this story of gambling and debt? What is it +to me? It seems that is the way men fight now—with a pack of cards! +That is fighting between—men, and the victor waves a check in triumph, +and comes and brags about it to women! Well—I—I don't +appreciate—such—such manliness. I think you had better—go and see to +your father's funeral—instead of—of bringing such a story to me!" said +Miss Burgoyne, with heaving bosom; and it was real indignation this +time, for there were tears in her eyes as she turned proudly away from +him and marched straight for the door of the room.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake!" he cried, intercepting her. "Kate, I did not mean +to offend you! I take back what I said. How could any one help being +jealous—seeing your off-and-on relations with him all this time, and +you would never say one thing or another. Forgive me."</p> + +<p>She turned to him, and there were still indignant tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"It isn't fair!" she said. "It isn't fair!—he is ill; you might have a +little humanity."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," he said, quite humbly and imploringly (for this young man +was in a bad way, and had lost his head as well as his heart). "And I +didn't mean half what I said—indeed I didn't! And—and you shouldn't +reproach me with not going at once down to Petmansworth, when you know +the cause. I<!-- Page 414 --><span class="pagenum">{414}</span> shall be among a lot of people who won't know my relations +to you; I shall have all kinds of duties before me now, and I wanted to +take with me one word of assurance. Even if it was only sympathy I +wanted, why should I not come first to you, when you are the one I care +for most in the world? Isn't it a proof of that, when my first thought +is of you when this great change has taken place? Don't you see how you +will be affected by it—at least if you say yes. I know you are fond of +the theatre, and of all the flattery you get, and bouquets and newspaper +notices; but you might find another way of life just as satisfying to +your pride—I mean a natural pride, a self-respect such as every woman +should have. Oh, I don't mind your remaining on the stage, for a time +anyway; we could not be married for at least six months, I suppose, +according to usual observances; but I think if you knew how you could +play the part of great lady down at Petmansworth, that might have as +great attraction for you as the theatre. I was considering in the train +last night," continued this luckless youth—studying every feature of +his mistress's face for some favorable sign of yielding, "that perhaps +you might agree to a private marriage, in a week or two's time, by +private license, and we could have the marriage announced later on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Percy, you frighten me," said the young lady, whose wrath was +clearly being mollified by his persuasive words—or perhaps by other +considerations. "I couldn't think of such a thing! Oh, no, no! What +would my people say? And what would the public say, when it all came +out?"</p> + +<p>"I only offered the suggestion," said he, submissively. "It would be +making everything sure, that was all. But I can quite understand that a +young lady would rather have a grand wedding, and presents, and a list +of friends in the <i>Morning Post</i>: well, I don't insist; it was only a +fancy I had last night in the train, but I am sure I would rather study +your wishes in every respect."</p> + +<p>She stood silent for a little time, he intently waiting her answer.</p> + +<p>"It is too serious a matter for me to decide by myself," she said, at +last, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"But who else has any right to interfere?" he exclaimed. "Why should you +not decide for yourself? You know I love<!-- Page 415 --><span class="pagenum">{415}</span> you—you have seen it? and I +have waited and waited, and borne with a good deal. But then I was +hardly in a position to demand an answer; there would have been some +risk on your part, and I hesitated. Now there can be none. Dear Kate, +you are going to say one word!—and I shall go away down to all this sad +business that lies before me with a secret comfort that none of them +will suspect."</p> + +<p>"It is too sudden, Percy," she said, lingeringly; "I must have time to +consider."</p> + +<p>"What have you to consider?" he remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"A great many things," she said, evasively. "You don't know how a girl +is situated. Here is papa coming to town this very morning; Jim and +Cicely have gone up to Paddington to meet him. Well, I don't know how he +might regard it. If you wanted me to leave the theatre altogether, it +would make a great difference; I do a good deal for Jim and Cicely."</p> + +<p>"But, Katie," he said, and he took her hand in spite of her, "these are +only matters of business! Do you think I can't make all that straight? +Say yes!"—and he strove to draw her towards him, and would have kissed +her, but that she withdrew a step, with her cheeks flushing prettily +through the thin make-up of the morning.</p> + +<p>"You must give me time, Percy," she said, with downcast eyes. "I must +know what papa says."</p> + +<p>"What time?"</p> + +<p>"Well—a week," she said.</p> + +<p>"A week be it: I won't worry you beyond your patience, dear Kate," said +this infatuated young man. "But I know what you will have to say +then—to make me the happiest of human beings alive on this earth. +Good-bye, dearest!"</p> + +<p>And with that he respectfully kissed her hand and took his leave; and so +soon as she was sure he was out of the house she rang for breakfast, and +called down to the little maid to look sharp with it, too. She was +startled and pleased in one direction, and, in another, perhaps a trifle +vexed; for what business had any man coming bothering her with a +proposal of marriage before breakfast? How could she help displaying a +little temper, when she was hungry and he over pertinacious? Yet she +hoped she had not been too outspoken in her anger, for there were +visions before her mind that somehow seemed agreeable.<!-- Page 416 --><span class="pagenum">{416}</span></p> + +<p>That was another anxious day for those people in Piccadilly, for the +fever showed no signs of abating, while some slight delirium returned +from time to time. Nina, of course, was in constant attendance; and when +he began, in his wanderings, to speak of her and to ask Maurice what had +become of her, she would simply go into the room, and take a seat by the +bedside, and talk to him just as if they had met by accident in the +Piazza Cavour. For he had got it into his head now that they were in +Naples again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it is all right, Leo," she would say, putting her cool hand on +his burning one, "they will all be in time, the whole party; when we get +down to the <i>Risposta</i>, they will all be there; and perhaps Sabetta will +bring her zither in its case. Then there will be the long sail across +the blue water, and Capri coming nearer and nearer; then the landing and +the donkeys and the steep climb up and up. Where shall we go, Leo?—to +the Hotel Pagano or the Tiberio? The Pagano?—very well, for there is +the long balcony shaded from the sun, and after luncheon we shall have +chairs taken out—yes, and you can smoke there—and you will laugh to +see Andrea go to the front of the railings and sing, '<i>Al ben de tuoi +qual vittima</i>,' with his arms stretched out like a windmill, and Carmela +very angry with him that he is so ridiculous. But then no one +hears—what matter?—no one except those perhaps in the small +garden-house for the billiard. Will there be moonlight to-night before +we get back? To-morrow Pandiani will grumble. Well, let him grumble; I +am not afraid of him—no!"</p> + +<p>So she would carelessly talk him back into quietude again; and then she +would stealthily withdraw from the room, and perhaps go to the piano and +begin to play some Neapolitan air—but so softly that the notes must +have come to him like music in a dream.</p> + +<p>Lord Rockminster called that afternoon and was shown up-stairs.</p> + +<p>"I am going down to Scotland to-night," said he to Maurice, "and I have +just got a telegram from Miss Cunyngham—you may have heard of her from +Mr. Moore?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Mangan said.</p> + +<p>"She wishes me to bring her the latest news."</p> + +<p>Well, he was told what there was to tell—which was not much, amid all +this dire uncertainty. He looked perplexed.<!-- Page 417 --><span class="pagenum">{417}</span></p> + +<p>"I should like to have taken Miss Cunyngham some more reassuring +message," he said, thoughtfully. "I suppose there is nothing either she +or I could do?" And then he drew Maurice aside and spoke in an +undertone. "Except perhaps this. I have heard that Moore has been +playing a little high of late—and has burned his fingers. I hope you +won't let his mind be harassed by money matters. If a temporary loan +will serve, and for a considerable amount if necessary, I will rely on +your writing to me; may I?"</p> + +<p>"It is exceedingly kind of you," Maurice said—but made no further +promise.</p> + +<p>No, Lionel had not been forgotten by all his fashionable friends. That +same afternoon a package arrived, which, according to custom, Maurice +opened, lest some acknowledgment should be necessary. It proved to be +Lady Adela Cunyngham's new novel—the three volumes prettily bound in +white parchment.</p> + +<p>"Is the woman mad with vanity," said Francie, in hot indignation, "to +send him her trash at such a time as this?"</p> + +<p>Maurice laughed; it was not often that the gentle Francie was so +vehement.</p> + +<p>"Why, Francie, it was the best she could do," he said; "for when he is +able to read it will send him to sleep."</p> + +<p>He was still turning over the leaves of the first volume.</p> + +<p>"Oh, look here," he cried. "Here is the dedication: 'To Octavius Quirk, +Esq., M.A., in sincere gratitude for much kindly help and +encouragement.' Now, that is very indiscreet. The log-rollers don't like +books being dedicated to them; it draws the attention of the public and +exposes the game. Ah, well, not many members of the public will see +<i>that</i> dedication!"</p> + +<p>A great change, however, was now imminent. Saying as little as +possible—indeed, making all kinds of evasions and excuses, so as not to +alarm the women-folk—old Dr. Moore intimated that he thought it +advisable he should sit up this night with Lionel; and Maurice, though +he promised Francie he would go home as soon as she and the old lady had +left, was too restless to keep his word. They feared, they hoped—they +knew not what. Would the exhausted system hold out any longer against +the wasting ravages of this fell disease, or succumb and sink into coma +and death? Or would Nature herself step in, and with her gentle fingers +close the tired eyes and bring restoring<!-- Page 418 --><span class="pagenum">{418}</span> sleep and calm? Maurice meant +to go home, but could not. First of all, he stayed late. Then, when the +nurse came down, she was bidden to go back to bed again, if she liked. +Hour after hour passed. He threw himself on the sofa, but it was not to +close his eyes. And yet all seemed going well in the sick-room. Both the +doctor and he had convinced themselves that Lionel was now asleep—no +lethargic stupor this time, but actual sleep, from which everything was +to be hoped. Maurice would not speak; he wrote on slips of paper when he +had anything to say. And so the long night went by, until the +window-panes slowly changed from black to blue, and from blue to gray.</p> + +<p>About eight o'clock in the morning the old doctor came out of the room, +and Maurice knew in a moment the nature of his tidings.</p> + +<p>"All is going well," he whispered. "The temperature is steadily +decreasing—nearly three degrees since last night—and he is now in a +profound sleep; the crisis is over, and happily over, as I imagine. I'm +going along to tell his mother and Francie—and to go to bed for a bit."</p> + +<p>And Maurice? Well, here was the nurse; he was not wanted; he was a +good-natured sort of person and he had seen how patiently and faithfully +Nina had concealed her grief and done mutely everything they wanted of +her. A few minutes' drive in a hansom would take him down to Sloane +Street; the fresh air would be pleasant—for his head felt stupefied for +want of rest; and why should not Nina have this glad intelligence at the +first possible moment? So forth he went, into the white light of the +fresh April morning; and presently he was rattling away westward, as +well as the eastward-flowing current of the newly awakened town would +allow. But very much surprised was he, when he got to Mrs. Grey's house, +to find that Nina was not there. She had gone out very early in the +morning, the maid-servant told him; she had done so the last two or +three days back—without waiting for breakfast even.</p> + +<p>"But where does she go?" he demanded, wondering.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir," the girl said; so there was nothing for it but to +walk leisurely away back to Piccadilly—after all, Nina would be sure to +make her appearance at the usual hour, which was about ten.<!-- Page 419 --><span class="pagenum">{419}</span></p> + +<p>By the time he was nearing Lionel's lodgings again, he had forgotten all +about Nina; he was thinking that now, since Lionel seemed on a fair way +to recovery, there might be a little more leisure for Francie and +himself to talk over their own plans and prospects. He was on the +southern side of Piccadilly, and sometimes he glanced into the Green +Park; when suddenly his eye was caught by a figure that somehow appeared +familiar. Was not that Miss Ross—walking slowly along a pathway between +the trees, her head bent down, though sometimes she turned and looked up +towards the houses for but a second, as if she were asking some +unspoken, pathetic question. She was about opposite Lionel's rooms, but +some little way inside the Park, so that it was not probable she could +be seen from the windows. Well, Maurice walked back until he found a +gate, entered, and went forward and overtook her. In fact, she seemed to +be simply going this way and that, hovering about the one spot, while +ever and anon a hopeless glance was cast on the unresponsive +house-fronts up there.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ross!" he said.</p> + +<p>She turned, quickly, and when she saw who it was, her face paled with +alarm. For a moment she could not speak. Her eyes questioned him—and +yet not eagerly; there was a terrible dread there as well.</p> + +<p>"Why are you here?" he asked, in his surprise.</p> + +<p>"I could not rest within doors—I wished to be nearer," she answered, +hurriedly; and then, fixing her eyes on him, she said, "Well? What is +it? What do they say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I have good news for you," said he; "such excellent news that I +went away down to Sloane Street, so that you could hear it without +delay. The crisis is over and everything going on satisfactorily."</p> + +<p>She murmured something in her native tongue and turned away her face. He +waited a minute or two, until she brushed her handkerchief across her +eyes and raised her head somewhat.</p> + +<p>"Come," said he, "we will go in now. I hear you have had no breakfast. +Do you want to be ill, too? Mrs. Jenkins will get you something. We +can't have two invalids on our hands."</p> + +<p>She accompanied him, with the silent obedience she had shown all the way +through; she only said, in a low voice, as he opened the door for her,<!-- Page 420 --><span class="pagenum">{420}</span></p> + +<p>"I wonder if Leo will ever know how kind you have been to every one?"</p> + +<p>This was a happy day for that household, though their joy was subdued; +for a shadow of possibilities still hung over them. And perhaps it was +the knowledge that now there was every probability of the greater danger +being removed that caused a certain exaggeration of minor troubles and +brought them to the front. When Mangan begged his betrothed to go out +for a five-minutes' stroll in the Park before lunch, he found, after +all, that it was not his and her own affairs that claimed their chief +attention.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do, Francie," he said, ruefully. "I'm in a regular +fix, and no mistake. Here is Nina—it seems more natural to call her +Nina, doesn't it?—well, she talks of going away to-morrow, now that +Linn is in a fair way to get better. She is quite aware that he does not +know she has been in London, or that he has seen her; and now she wishes +that he should never be told; and that she may get safely away again, +and matters be just as they were before. I don't quite understand her, +perhaps; she is very proud, for one thing, but she is very much in love +with him—poor thing! she has tried to conceal it as well as ever she +could; but you must have seen it, Francie—a woman's eyes must have seen +it—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Maurice!" his companion said; then she added, "And—and don't +you think Linn is just as much in love with her? I am sure of it! It's +just dreadful to think of her going away again—these two being +separated as they were before—and Linn perhaps fretting himself into +another illness, though never speaking a word—"</p> + +<p>"But how am I to ask her to stay?" Maurice demanded, as if in appeal to +her woman's wit. "There's Miss Burgoyne. Linn himself could only ask +Nina to stay on one condition—and Miss Burgoyne makes it impossible."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Francie, grown bold, "if I were you, Maurice, I would go +straight to Miss Burgoyne, and I would say to her, 'My friend Lionel is +in love with another woman; he never was in love with you at all; <i>now</i> +will you marry him?'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf420" id="illusf420"></a> +<img src="images/illusf420.jpg" alt=""Maurice walked back until he found a gate, entered, and +went forward and overtook her."" /> +<h5><b>"<i>Maurice walked back until he found a gate, entered, and +went forward and overtook her.</i>"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>"Yes, very pretty," he said, moodily. "The first thing she would do +would be to call a policeman and get me locked up as a raging lunatic. +And what would Linn say to me about such <!-- Page 421 --><span class="pagenum">{421}</span>interference when he came to +hear of it? No, I must leave them to manage their own affairs, however +they may turn out; the only thing I should like in the meantime would be +for Nina to see Linn before she goes. That's all; and that I think I +could manage."</p> + +<p>"How, Maurice?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there is simply nothing she wouldn't do for Linn's sake," he made +answer; "and if I were to tell her I thought it would greatly help his +recovery if he were to know that she was well, that she was here in +London and ready to be friends with him and looking forward to his +getting better, then I am pretty sure she would remain for that little +time at least, and do anything we asked of her. Of course it would not +do for them to meet just now—Linn is too weak to stand any +excitement—and he will be so for some time to come; still, I think Nina +would wait that time if we told her she could be of help. Then once +these two have seen each other and spoken, let them take the management +of their own affairs. Why, good gracious me!" he exclaimed, in lighter +tones, "haven't you and I got our own affairs to manage, too? I have +just been drawing up a code of regulations for the better governing of a +wife!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said Francie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said he, firmly. "I am a believer in the good old robust +virtues that have made England what she is—or rather, what she has +been. I'm not a sentimentalist. If the sentimentalists and the theorists +and the faddists go on as they are doing, they'll soon leave us without +any England at all; England will be moralized away to nothing; there +will only be her name and her literature left to remind the world that +she once existed. The equal rights of women—that's one of their fads. +The equal rights of women! Bosh! Women ought to be very proud and +grateful that they are allowed to live at all! However, that is a +general principle; the particular application of it is that a man should +be master in his own house, and that his wife's first and paramount duty +is to obey him—"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't frighten me too soon, Maurice," she said—but she did not +appear to be terribly scared.</p> + +<p>"And I mean to begin as I mean to end," said he, ominously, as they were +about to cross the street on their way back. "I am not going to marry a +wife who will have all her interests<!-- Page 422 --><span class="pagenum">{422}</span> out of doors. I will not allow it. +A woman, madam, should attend to her own house and her own husband, and +not spend her time in gadding about hospitals and sick-wards and making +friends and companions of nurses."</p> + +<p>Francie laughed at him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Maurice," said she, as they were about to enter, "you yourself are +the very best nurse I ever saw!"</p> + +<p>But it was not in this mood that Mangan received Miss Burgoyne when she +called that afternoon to make inquiries. She and her brother were shown +to the room up-stairs, and thither Mangan followed them. He was very +polite and cold and courteous; told her that Lionel was getting on very +well; that the fever was subsiding, and that he was quite sensible +again, though very weak; and said he hoped his complete recovery was now +only a question of time. But when the young lady—with more hesitation +than she usually displayed—preferred a request that she might be +allowed to see Mr. Moore, Maurice met that by a gently decisive +negative.</p> + +<p>"He is not to be disturbed in any way. Perfect rest is what the doctors +ordain. He has been left a wreck, but his fine constitution will pull +him through; in the meantime we have to be most careful."</p> + +<p>She was silent and thoughtful for a minute.</p> + +<p>"I can't see him?"</p> + +<p>"I think not—it would be most unwise. You would not wish to do anything +inconsiderate."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not. May I write to him, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It will be some time before he can attend to any letters. You have no +idea how weak he is. We want him to remain in perfect rest and quiet."</p> + +<p>"This is Thursday," she said. "Supposing everything goes well, and I +called on Tuesday next, could I see him then?"</p> + +<p>"By that time it would be easier to say," he answered, with diplomatic +ingenuity. "I should think it very likely."</p> + +<p>"It will be a long time before he can come back to the theatre?" she +asked again.</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt about that."</p> + +<p>"But his voice will be all right when he gets well?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Whitsen seems to think so."</p> + +<p>She stood undecided for a moment; then she said,<!-- Page 423 --><span class="pagenum">{423}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, I won't write until you give me leave. I don't mind your seeing +the letter, when I do. In the meantime, will you tell Lionel how awfully +glad I am that he is going on well, and that we shall all be glad to +have him back at the theatre?"</p> + +<p>"I will give him the message."</p> + +<p>"Thanks—good-bye." And therewith Miss Burgoyne and her brother Jim +withdrew.</p> + +<p>But if Maurice set his face against that young lady being allowed to see +Lionel in his present exhausted condition, it was quite otherwise with +his notions about Nina. He talked to the three doctors, and to Mrs. +Moore, and to Francie—to Francie most of all; and he maintained that, +so far from such a meeting causing any mental disturbance, the knowledge +that Nina was in London, was close by, would only be a source of joy and +placid congratulation and peace. They yielded at last, and the +experiment was to be tried on the Saturday morning about eleven. Nina +was told. She trembled a little, but was ready to do whatever was +required of her.</p> + +<p>"Well, now," said Maurice to her, when she came up that morning (he +noticed that she was dressed with extreme neatness and grace, and also +that she seemed pale and careworn, though her beautiful dark eyes had +lost none of their soft lustre), "we mustn't startle him. We must lead +up to his seeing you. I wonder whether your playing those Neapolitan +airs may not have left some impression on his brain?—they might sound +familiar?"</p> + +<p>At once Nina went to the piano and silently opened it.</p> + +<p>"I will go and talk to him," he whispered. "Just you play a little, and +we'll see."</p> + +<p>Mangan went into the next room and began to say a few casual words, in a +careless kind of way, but all the time keeping watchful and furtive +observation of his friend's face. And even as he spoke there came +another sound—soft and low and distant—that seemed to say, "<i>A la +fenesta affaciate—nennela de stu core—io t'aggio addo che spasemì, ma +spasemo d'amore—e cchiù non trovo requia, nennella mia, ppe te!</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Maurice!" said Lionel, with staring eyes. "What is that? Who is there?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, Linn?" his friend said, tranquilly. "She has been here +all through your illness—she has played those airs for you—"<!-- Page 424 --><span class="pagenum">{424}</span></p> + +<p>"Nina? Nina herself?" Lionel exclaimed, but in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes. If you like I will bring her in to see you. She has been awfully +good. I thought it would please you to know she was here. Now be quite +quiet, and she will come in and speak to you for a minute—for just a +minute, you know."</p> + +<p>He went and asked Nina to go into the room, but he did not accompany +her; he remained without. Nina went gently forward to the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Leo, I—I am glad you are getting on so well," she said, with admirable +self-possession; it was only her lips that were tremulous.</p> + +<p>As for him, he looked at her in silence, and tears rolled down his +cheek—he was so nerveless. Then he said, in his weak voice,</p> + +<p>"Nina, have you forgiven me?"</p> + +<p>"What have I to forgive, Leo?" she made answer; and she took his hand +for a moment. "Get well—it is the prayer of many friends. And if you +wish to see me again before I go, then I will come—"</p> + +<p>"Before you go?" he managed to say. "You are going away again, Nina?"</p> + +<p>His eyes were more piteous than his speech; she met that look—and her +resolution faltered.</p> + +<p>"At least," she said, "I will not go until you are well—no. When you +wish for me, I will come to see you. We are still friends as of old, +Leo, are we not? Now I must not remain. I will say good-bye for the +present."</p> + +<p>"When are you coming back, Nina?" he said, still with those pleading +eyes.</p> + +<p>"When you wish, Leo."</p> + +<p>"This afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"This afternoon, if you wish."</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand and left. Her determined self-possession had +carried her bravely so far; there had hardly been a trace of emotion. +But when she went outside—when the strain was taken off—it may have +been otherwise; at all events, when, with bowed and averted head, she +crossed the sitting-room and betook herself to the empty chamber above, +no one dreamed of following her—until Francie, some little time +thereafter, went quietly up-stairs and tapped at the door and entered. +She<!-- Page 425 --><span class="pagenum">{425}</span> found Nina stretched at full length on the sofa, her head buried in +the cushion, sobbing as if her heart would break. Perhaps she was +thinking of the approaching farewell.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<h4>TOWARDS THE DAWN.</h4> + + +<p>On the Tuesday about midday, according to her promise, Miss Burgoyne +called and again preferred her request. And, short of a downright lie, +Mangan saw no way of refusing her.</p> + +<p>"At the same time," he said, in the cold manner which he unconsciously +adopted towards this young lady, "you must remember he is far from +strong yet; and I hope you have nothing to say to him that would cause +agitation, or even involve his speaking much. His voice has to be taken +care of, as well as his general condition."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you may trust me for that," said she, with decision. "Do you think +<i>I</i> don't know how important that is?"</p> + +<p>Miss Burgoyne went into the room. Lionel was still in bed, but propped +up in a sitting posture; and to keep his arms and shoulders warm he had +donned a gorgeous smoking-jacket, the fantastic colors of which were +hardly in keeping with his character as invalid. He knew of her arrival, +and had laid aside the paper he had been reading.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad to know you are getting on so satisfactorily," said Miss +Burgoyne, in her most pleasant way. "And they tell me your voice will be +all right too. Of course you must exercise great caution; it will be +some time before you can begin your <i>vocalises</i> again."</p> + +<p>"How is Doyle doing?" he asked, in a fairly clear voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pretty well," said she, but in rather a dissatisfied fashion. "It +is difficult to say what it is that is wanting—he looks well, acts +well, sings well—a very good performance altogether—and yet—it is +respectable, and nothing more. He really has a good voice, as you know, +and thoroughly well trained; but it seems to me as if there were in his +singing everything but the one thing—everything but the thrill that +makes your breath stop at times. However," added Miss Burgoyne, out of +her complaisance,<!-- Page 426 --><span class="pagenum">{426}</span> "the public will wait a long time before they find +any one to sing 'The Starry Night' as you sang it, and as I hope you'll +be singing it again before long."</p> + +<p>She was silent for a second or two; she seemed to have something to say, +and yet to hesitate about saying it.</p> + +<p>"I hear you are going to Italy when you are strong enough to travel?" +she observed, at last.</p> + +<p>"That is what they advise."</p> + +<p>"You will be away for some time?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>And again she sat silent for a little while, pulling at the fringe of +her rose-lined sun-shade.</p> + +<p>"Well, Lionel," she said, at length, with downcast eyes, "there is +something I have been thinking about for a long time back, and if you +are going away very soon, and perhaps for a considerable while, I ought +to tell you. It may be a relief to you as well as to me; indeed, I think +it will; if I had imagined what I have to say would vex you in any way, +you may be sure I wouldn't come at such a time as this. But to be +frank—that engagement—do you think we entered upon it with any kind of +wisdom, or with any fair prospect of happiness? Now if I trouble you or +hurt your feelings in any way, you can stop me with a single word," she +interposed, and she ventured to look up a little and to address +him more directly. "The truth is, I was flattered by such a +proposal—naturally—and rather lost my head, perhaps, when I ought to +have asked myself what was the true state of our feelings towards each +other. Of course, it was I who was in the wrong; I ought to have +considered. And I must say you have behaved most honorably throughout; +you never showed the least sign of a wish to break the engagement, even +when we had our little quarrels, and you may have received some +provocation. But after all, Lionel, I think you must admit that our +relations have not been quite—quite—what you might expect between two +people looking forward to spending their lives together."</p> + +<p>She paused here—perhaps to give him an opportunity of signifying his +assent. But he refused to do that. He uttered not a word. It was for her +to say what was in her mind—if she wished to be released.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure that even now, even after what I have just<!-- Page 427 --><span class="pagenum">{427}</span> told you," +she continued, "you would be willing to keep your word. But—but would +it be wise? Just think. Esteem and regard and respect there would always +be between us, I hope; but—but is that enough? Of course you may tell +me that as you are willing to fulfil your part of the engagement, so I +should be on my side; and I don't say that I am not; if you challenged +me and could convince me that your happiness depended on it, you would +see whether I would draw back. But you have heard me so far without a +word of protest. I have not wounded you. Perhaps you will be as glad to +be free as I shall be—I don't mean glad, Lionel," she hastily put in, +"except in the sense of being free from an obligation that might prove +disastrous to both of us. Now, Lionel, what do you say? You see I have +been quite candid; and I hope you won't think I have spoken out of any +unkindness or ill-feeling."</p> + +<p>He answered her at last,</p> + +<p>"I agree with every word you have said."</p> + +<p>A quick flush swept across Miss Burgoyne's forehead; but probably he +could not have told what that meant, even if he had been looking; and he +was not.</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't think me unkind," she repeated. "I am sure it will be +better for both of us to have that tie broken. If I had not thought that +it would be as grateful to you as to me to be released, be sure I would +not have come and spoken to you while you were lying on a sick-bed. Now, +I promised Mr. Mangan not to talk too much nor to agitate you," said +she, as she rose, and smoothed her sun-shade, and made ready to depart. +"I hope you will get strong and well very soon; and that you will come +back to the New Theatre with your voice as splendid as ever." But still +she lingered a little. She felt that her immediate departure might seem +too abrupt; it would look as if she had secured the object of her visit, +and was therefore ready to run away at once. So she chatted a little +further, and looked at the photographs on the wall; and again she hoped +he would be well soon and back at the theatre. At last she said, "Well, +good-bye." Gave him her gloved hand for a second; then she went out and +was joined by her brother. Mangan saw them both down-stairs, and +returned to Lionel's room.</p> + +<p>"Had her ladyship any important communication to make?" he asked, in his +careless way.<!-- Page 428 --><span class="pagenum">{428}</span></p> + +<p>"She proposed that our engagement should be broken off—and I +consented," said Lionel, simply.</p> + +<p>Mangan, who was going to the window, suddenly stood stock-still and +stared, as if he had not heard aright.</p> + +<p>"And it is broken off?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence. Presently Maurice said,</p> + +<p>"Well, that is the best piece of news I have received for many a +day—for you don't seem heartbroken, Linn. And now—have you any +plans?—perhaps you have hardly had time?—"</p> + +<p>He was looking at Lionel—wondering whether the same idea was in both +their heads—and yet afraid to speak.</p> + +<p>"Maurice," Lionel said, presently, with some hesitation, "tell me—could +I ask Nina—look at me—such a wreck—could I ask her to become my wife? +It's about Capri I am thinking—we could go together there, when I am a +bit stronger—"</p> + +<p>There was a flash of satisfaction in the deep-set, friendly gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"This is what I expected, Linn. Well, put the question to herself—and +the sooner the better!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but—" Lionel said, as if afraid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know," Maurice said, confidently. "Tell Nina that you are not yet +quite recovered—that you have need of her care—and she will go to the +world's end with you. Only you must get married first, for the sake of +appearances."</p> + +<p>"What will she say, Maurice?" he asked again, as if there were some +curious doubt, or perhaps merely timidity, in his mind.</p> + +<p>"I think I know, but I am not going to tell," his friend answered, +lightly. "I am off up-stairs now. I will send Nina down; but without a +word of warning. You'll have to lead up to it yourself—and good-luck to +you, my boy!" And therewith Maurice departed to seek out Nina in the +chamber above; and as he went up the stairs he was saying to himself, +"Well, well; and so Miss Burgoyne did that of her own free will? I may +have done the young woman some injustice. Perhaps she is not so selfish +and hard after all. Wish I had been more civil to her."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Miss Burgoyne and her brother were walking in the direction of +Regent Street.<!-- Page 429 --><span class="pagenum">{429}</span></p> + +<p>"Now, Jim," she said, with almost a gay air, "I have just completed a +most delicate and difficult negotiation, and I feel quite exhausted. You +must take me into a restaurant and give me the very nicest and neatest +bit of luncheon you can possibly devise—all pretty little trifles, for +we mustn't interfere with dinner; and I am going to see how you can do +it—"</p> + +<p>"Well, but, Katie," he said, frowning, "where do you suppose—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't he stupid!" she exclaimed, slipping her purse into his hand. +"I am going to judge of your <i>savoir faire</i>; I will see whether you get +a nice table; whether you order the proper things; whether you command +sufficient attention—"</p> + +<p>"I was never taught to bully waiters," said he.</p> + +<p>"To bully waiters!—is that your notion of <i>savoir faire</i>?" she +answered, lightly. "My dear Jim, the bullying of a waiter is the most +obvious and outward sign of the ingrained, incurable cad. No, no. That +is what I do not expect of you, Jim. And I am going to leave the whole +affair in your hands; for while you are ordering for me a most elegant +little luncheon, I have an extremely important letter to send off."</p> + +<p>So it was that when brother and sister were seated at a small table on +the ground-floor of a well-known Regent Street restaurant, Miss Burgoyne +had writing materials brought her, and she wrote her letter while Jim +was in shy confabulation with the waiter. It was not a lengthened +epistle; it ran so:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="right">"Tuesday.</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Dear Percy</span>.—Let it be as you wish.</p> + +<p class="center">"Your loving</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="sc">Kate</span>.</p> + +<p>"P.S. When shall you be in town? Come and see me."</p></div> + +<p>She folded and enclosed and addressed the letter; but she did not give +it to the waiter to post. It was of too great moment for that. She put +it in her pocket; she would herself see it safely despatched.</p> + +<p>Well, for a boy, Jim had not done so badly; though, to be sure, his +sister did not seem to pay much attention to these delicacies. Her brain +was too busy. As she trifled with this thing or that, or sipped a little +wine, she said,</p> + +<p>"Jim, I know what the dream of your life is—it's to go to a big +pheasant-shoot."<!-- Page 430 --><span class="pagenum">{430}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, is it?" he said, with the scorn born of superior knowledge. "Not +much. I've tried my hand at pheasants. I know what they are. It's all +very well for those fellows in the papers to talk about the easy +shooting—the slaughter—the tame birds—and all that bosh; fellows who +couldn't hit a stuffed cockatoo at twenty yards. No, thanks; I know what +pheasants are—the beasts!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what kind of shooting would you really like?" said this indulgent +sister.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," he said, with his face brightening. "I should like to +have the run of a good rabbit-warren, and to be allowed to wander about +entirely by myself, with a gun and a spaniel. No keeper looking on and +worrying and criticising—that's my idea."</p> + +<p>"All right," said she, "I think I can promise you that."</p> + +<p>"You?" he said, looking at her, and wondering if she had gone out of her +wits.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, sweetly. "Don't you think there will be plenty of +rabbits about a place like Petmansworth?"</p> + +<p>"And what then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to marry Sir Percival Miles," said Miss Kate, with much +serene complacency.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 40%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h4>A REUNION.</h4> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p><br/></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="illusf430" id="illusf430"></a> +<img src="images/illusf430.jpg" alt=""'I have an extremely important letter to send off.'"" /> +<h5><b>"'<i>I have an extremely important letter to send off.</i>'"</b></h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>Here is a long balcony, shaded by pillared arches, the windows hung with +loose blinds of reeds in gray and scarlet. If you adventure out into the +hot sunlight, you may look away down the steep and rugged hill, where +there are groups of flat-roofed, white houses dotted here and there +among the dark palms and olives and arbored vines; and then your eyes +naturally turn to the vast extent of shimmering blue sea, with the faint +outline of the Italian coast and the peaked Vesuvius beyond. But inside, +in the spacious, rather bare rooms, it is cooler; and in one of these, +at the farther end, stands a young man in front of a piano, striking a +chord from time to time, and exercising a voice that does not seem to +have lost much of its<!-- Page 431 --><span class="pagenum">{431}</span> <i>timbre</i>; while there is an exceedingly pretty, +gentle-eyed, rather foreign-looking young lady engaged in putting +flowers on the central table, which is neatly and primly laid out for +four.</p> + +<p>"Come, Leo," she says, "is it not enough? You are in too great a hurry, +I believe. Are you jealous of Mr. Doyle? Do you wish to go back at once? +No, no; we must get Mr. Mangan and his bride to make a long stay, before +we go over with them to the big towns on the mainland. Will you go out +and see if the <i>Risposta</i> is visible yet."</p> + +<p>"What splendid weather for Maurice and Francie, isn't it, Ntoniella?" +said he (for there are other pet names besides the familiar Nina for any +one called Antonia). "I wish we could have had our wedding-day along +with theirs. Well, at least we will have our honeymoon trip along with +them; and we shall have to be their guides, you know, in Venice and Rome +and Florence, for neither of them knows much Italian."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, Leo," said Nina, who was still busy with her flowers, "when +we go back with them to Naples, you really must speak properly. It is +too bad—the dialect—it is not necessary; you can speak well if you +wish. It was only to make fun of Sabetta that you began, now it is +always."</p> + +<p>He only laughed at her grave remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you preach at me, Ntoniella!" he said, in the very language +she was deprecating. "There are lots of things I can say to you that +sound nicer that way."</p> + +<p>He turned from the piano at last and took up an English newspaper that +he had previously opened.</p> + +<p>"Ntoniè, tell me, did you read all the news this morning?"</p> + +<p>"No—a little," Nina answered, snipping off the redundant stalks of the +grapes.</p> + +<p>"You did not see the announcement about—about Miss Cunyngham?"</p> + +<p>At the mention of this name, Nina looked up quickly, and there was some +color in the pale, clear complexion.</p> + +<p>"No. What is it, Leo?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you might have seen that, at all events," he said, lightly. +"Well, I will read it to you. 'A marriage has been arranged and will +shortly take place between Lord Rockminster, eldest son of the Earl of +Fareborough, and Miss Honnor Cunyngham, daughter of the late Sir George +Cunyngham, and sister<!-- Page 432 --><span class="pagenum">{432}</span> of Sir Hugh Cunyngham, of the Braes, Perthshire, +and Aivron Lodge, Campden Hill.' I should like to have sent them a +little wedding-present," he went on, absently, "for both of them have +been very kind to me; but I am grown penurious in my old age; I suppose +we shall have to consider every farthing for many a day to come."</p> + +<p>"Leo, why will you not take any of my money?" Nina exclaimed, but with +shy and downcast face.</p> + +<p>"Your money!" he said, laughing. "You talk as if you were a Russian +princess, Ntoniella!"</p> + +<p>He drew aside the reeded blind of one of the windows and went out into +the soft air; both land and sea—that beautiful stretch of shining +blue—seemed quivering in the heat and abundant sunlight of June.</p> + +<p>"Nina, Nina!" he called, "you must make haste; the <i>Risposta</i> will soon +be coming near, and we must be down in town to welcome Maurice and +Francie when they come ashore."</p> + +<p>In a second or two she was ready, and he also.</p> + +<p>"There are so many things I shall have to tell Maurice," he said, just +as they were about to leave the house. "But do you think I shall be able +to tell him, Ntoniella? No. He must guess. What you have been to me, +what you are to me, how can I tell him or any one?"</p> + +<p>He took both her hands in his and looked long and lovingly into her +upturned face.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ntoniè, tu si state a sciorta mia!</i>" he said, meaning thereby that +good-fortune had befallen him at last. It was a pretty speech, and Nina, +with her beautiful dark eyes fixed on his, answered him in the same +dialect, and almost in the same terms, if in a lower voice:</p> + +<p>"<i>E a sciorta mia si tu!</i>"</p> + +<p><br/></p> +<p><br/></p> +<h1>THE END.</h1> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prince Fortunatus, by William Black + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRINCE FORTUNATUS *** + +***** This file should be named 16217-h.htm or 16217-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/1/16217/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Pilar Somoza and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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