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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..527f14a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64957 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64957) diff --git a/old/64957-0.txt b/old/64957-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5038754..0000000 --- a/old/64957-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7633 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Magnetic Girl, by Richard Marsh - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Magnetic Girl - -Author: Richard Marsh - -Release Date: March 29, 2021 [eBook #64957] -[Last updated: June 5, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGNETIC GIRL *** - - - - - THE MAGNETIC GIRL - - BY - RICHARD MARSH - AUTHOR OF - “_The Beetle_,” “_Curios: Some Strange Adventures of Two Bachelors_,” - “_Ada Vernham, Actress_,” “_Mrs Musgrave and Her Husband_,” - “_The Twickenham Peerage_,” _etc._ - - London - John Long - 13 and 14 Norris Street, Haymarket - 1903 - - - - - COPYRIGHT. - - _Copyright by John Long 1903 - All Rights Reserved_ - - - - - CONTENTS. - - CHAPTER I. A MAN - CHAPTER II. WOMEN’S VOICES - CHAPTER III. THE UNFINISHED SENTENCE - CHAPTER IV. THE EPISODE OF THE BAKER’S BOY - CHAPTER V. THE FURTHER EPISODES OF THE SHOP-WALKER AND THE ARTIST IN - HAIR - CHAPTER VI. MISS NORAH FEELS ODD - CHAPTER VII. MISS NORAH RECEIVES TWO GENTLEMEN - CHAPTER VIII. MEN ARE DECEIVERS EVER - CHAPTER IX. MORE TREACHERY - CHAPTER X. THE COMPROMISE - CHAPTER XI. THE TURNING OF THE WORM - CHAPTER XII. MISS NORAH’S SOLILOQUY - CHAPTER XIII. JANE - CHAPTER XIV. A QUARTER TO SEVEN - CHAPTER XV. TRAMPLING UPON FIVE - CHAPTER XVI. THE DINNER WHICH FAILED - CHAPTER XVII. THE BROWN MAN - CHAPTER XVIII. BEFORE THE CURTAIN - CHAPTER XIX. AN UNREHEARSED EFFECT - CHAPTER XX. THE BROUGHAM - CHAPTER XXI. THE SINGULAR WOOING - CHAPTER XXII. I BEHAVE LIKE A GOOSE - CHAPTER XXIII. “UNTIL?” - CHAPTER XXIV. THE FINISHED SENTENCE - CHAPTER XXV. THE BROWN MAN’S APOLOGY - CHAPTER XXVI. ON THE SINGULAR EFFECTS OF SUNLIGHT - - - - - THE MAGNETIC GIRL - - - - - CHAPTER I. - A MAN - -It was the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to anyone. I -really hardly know how to begin to tell about it. I was doing my hair -before the looking-glass in my bedroom--and I could not help noticing -that it was rather a curious colour, though my eyes were nearly -blinded by tears of rage, and something else. The rage was because -Lilian and Audrey and Eveleen and Doris, and mother too, had been -saying all the nasty things they could to me. The something else was -because Benjamin Morgan had asked me to be his wife. - -There--it’s out! My first proposal of marriage--my very, very first! -and that it should have come from him! It made me go hot all over with -shame and disgust and a most singular variety of feelings. - -They had been teasing me about him for ever so long; congratulating -me--of course, with the most biting sarcasm--on having made a conquest -at last. I am twenty-three, and nearly twenty-four, and no man ever -paid me the least attention--until Mr Morgan began. And I wished he -had not; because they made the most dreadful fun of him, and teased me -more than they had ever done before--which is saying more than words -can describe--on account of his being a hunchback. At least, he’s not -exactly a hunchback, though they say he is: but I do like to be -accurate, and I don’t care who laughs at me, and I’m quite sure that -it’s only one shoulder which is a little higher than the other. -There’s no denying that he is rather short for a man. His nurse -dropped him when he was a baby. For years they never thought that he -would live. If it were not for that there would be nothing against -him. He has a nice face,--no one can say that there is anything the -matter with that; with big black eyes, and the sweetest smile, and the -pleasantest voice. He was the most thoughtful person I ever met. As -generous as could be. He never said disagreeable things about anyone. -I never saw him impatient, or out of temper. Though he had a way, -sometimes, of making you understand that he was hurt by something -which had been said or done, which made you feel that you were a -perfect wretch. - -If he had not been crooked! They never ceased to laugh at me because -of “Crooked Ben,”--as they loved to call him. It got to such a state -that I grew to hate the sight of him. At the mere mention of his name -I would go hot all over;--they were always dragging him in by the head -and ears! Persisting--in season and out of season!--in telling me how -glad they were that I had some sort of an admirer at last, even if it -wasn’t a very straight one. That made me so wild that I would declare -that he was no admirer of mine, though I could not help but suspect -the contrary. Then, of course, they would go on worse than ever, -saying that having a lover like that was almost like having two: -because he had two such different sides to him that no one would -suppose that the one belonged to the other; and that when he was my -husband I might call one side of him by one name, and the other by -another. I have not the very best of tempers, and when they talked -like that I would fly into such rages; vowing and declaring that -nothing on earth would ever induce me to have anything to do with him, -and that nothing was further from his mind than the idea of asking me, -since I had given him no sort of encouragement, but, on the contrary, -had given him clearly to understand that I did not desire even his -acquaintance. - -And now, in spite of all my vows and declarations, he had actually -made me a proposal of marriage. If they ever came to hear of it I -might as well go into a lunatic asylum at once; because they would -certainly end by driving me there. - -And yet I was not so sure as I should have liked to have been that I -was beside myself with indignation at the mere notion of his audacity. -Though, of course, I was wild. But, I suppose, the fact is, if you -never have had a proposal from anyone, in a kind of a way it is -interesting to have an offer from anyone or anything,--even from, in a -manner of speaking, a monkey on a stick. If only just to know what it -sounds like and how it’s done. - -Everything was against Mr Morgan from the very start;--I will own -that. When he met me I was in a red-hot rage. If a king on his throne -had asked me to be his wife I should have felt like scratching him. -Mother had just been telling me that I was getting dowdier and -dowdier, and uglier and uglier every day, and if that sort of remark -makes anyone feel like sugar and spice and all that’s nice, then all I -can say is that it doesn’t me. I had really gone out to get something -in High Street. But the thought of what a dreary waste my life -actually was made me turn away from shops in disgust, and seek the -solitude of Kensington Gardens. I had scarcely gone fifty yards along -the Broad Walk when I all but ran against Mr Morgan. The sight of him -made me madder than ever. He just looked at me. When he was near I -used to have a horrid feeling that he understood me almost as well as -I did myself; and that he more than suspected that I was an ugly -duckling in my way almost as much as he was in his. It made me wild, -the idea of being bracketed, in any sense whatever, with him. - -I noticed what a shiny top-hat he had on,--I never saw anyone who wore -more beautiful top-hats; his taste was excellent; he was always -faultlessly dressed. I was filled with a vindictive desire to knock -off his hat with my parasol, and kick it; I did so feel like kicking -someone. There can be no real doubt that I have both a bad temper and -savage instincts. But so far was he from realising what was passing -through my mind that he gave me what was unmistakably a look of -sympathy;--there is nothing I hate so much as being sympathised with. -The thought that he was doing so made me wilder than ever. But before -I had a chance of snubbing him he began-- - -“I was just thinking of you, Miss Norah.” - -“It’s a pity you were not better employed,” I retorted, with a -conspicuous display of both gratitude and good breeding. - -“Thank you. Your pity is wasted. I could not be better employed.” - -His unruffled air made me disposed to be ruder than ever; and I was -just about to tell him that it was most unfortunate that he had no -better occupation for his time, when off he started,--right in the -middle of the Broad Walk, in front of all the people, without the -slightest prelude. - -“I could hardly be better employed than in thinking of the woman I -wish to make my wife. And you are she.--Norah, will you be my wife?” - -I was so startled,--genuinely startled, that I was thrown all in a -fluster. That he had had some faint notion at the back of his head I -had feared; I do not mind admitting it. But that it had anything like -come to a head I had never imagined. That I do protest. Still less had -I supposed that, under any circumstances, he would blurt it out in -that public place, and in that extraordinary manner. It was entirely -contrary to my most cherished notions. I could conceive of a -declaration being led up to gradually--of its taking a final form in -some delicate phrase, amidst suitable surroundings, at an appropriate -moment. - -But that, five seconds after encountering me in a tearing temper, -amidst crowds of people, anyone should ask me, in a casual sort of -manner, to be his wife, as if he were asking for the next dance--that -I had not conceived of as possible. I felt, for the moment, as if I -was breathless; looking at him as if to make sure whether I could -believe the evidence of my eyes and ears. - -“What did you say?” - -“I asked you if you will be my wife. Will you, Norah?” - -Not a word about love. Not a hint of any admiration he might feel; of -regard which had been gradually growing up within his breast. Not a -sign of perturbation. I had read about the awkward shyness, the -painful self-consciousness, with which some men approached that most -delicate of subjects. There were no symptoms of anything of the kind -about Mr Benjamin Morgan. At least, he did not wear them on his -exterior. His tone and manner could not have been more matter-of-fact, -if he had been asking me whether I thought that it was going to rain. -I was so taken aback, that I hardly knew how to treat him. I tried -dignity. - -“Is this a jest?” I inquired. “If so, you must allow me to observe -that I don’t think it is quite in the best of taste.” - -“If it were a jest, it would be in the very worst of taste. But it is -not a jest, and you know it.” - -Really, he was even more dignified than I was. Had I not known it was -impossible, I might have supposed that he was snubbing me on account -of the suggestion I had made. As if it had not been the most -reasonable one in the world. I said nothing. The truth is, I could -think of nothing to say. The position was such an excessively peculiar -one, that I did not feel myself at once capable of treating him with -the crushing scorn which I was becoming rapidly conscious he deserved. -What he imagined my silence meant, I cannot say; but though it seems -nearly incredible, I am almost drawn to the conclusion that he took it -to imply encouragement. The calm way in which he went on talking -forces me to think it. - -“I do not fancy we have had very happy lives, either you or I. I take -it that we have both led Robinson Crusoe sort of existences, on desert -islands of our own. I am a lonely man; you are a lonely girl.” - -“I a lonely girl! Are you forgetting that I have four sisters and a -mother?” - -“No; I am not forgetting it. But one may have a host of mere -relations, and yet be all alone.” - -“Mere relations!” I liked the word. I began to bristle all over. How -dare he speak of my four sisters--not to mention mamma!--as “mere” -relations. His assurance was increasing. I had never supposed him -capable of such audacity. - -“I will trouble you to speak of my family with respect, Mr Morgan, and -not as if they were persons of absolutely no account.” - -“Nothing was further from my wish than to speak of any member of your -family with disrespect. But I think that even you will admit that, -even in your own home, you are alone.” - -It made me furious to hear him say so,--even though it might be true. -It was no business of anybody’s how my own people chose to treat me; -they had no right to even notice. Nothing is more unpleasant than to -have a stranger spying on what happens to you in the bosom of your own -family. And so I longed to tell him. - -“You are quite mistaken, Mr Morgan. I am not lonely--not in the very -least--ever! And I cannot conceive what leads you to suppose that I -am.” - -“I recognise the chivalry which prompts your answer.” - -“Chivalry!--What are you talking about, Mr Morgan?--Have you lost your -senses?” - -“No; not yet. As I trust that you will afford me opportunities of -proving to you. I at least am lonely--I believe the very loneliest -creature in the whole world. I want you to take pity on my solitude.” - -“I am very sorry for you if you are so much alone.” - -“Do you mean it?” - -“Of course I mean it. Why do you persist in hinting that I keep on -saying what I don’t mean?” - -“If you do mean it--really mean it--then you have made of me the -happiest of men.” - -“That’s nonsense. It’s absurd to say that my being sorry for you can -make you happy.” - -“It is not absurd; because if you are really sorry--as you say you -are--you will put an end to my loneliness.” - -I looked at him, beginning to get red all over. It commenced to dawn -upon me what he meant. I had not supposed that he was a master of such -roundabout ways. - -“I quite fail to understand you, Mr Morgan.” - -“Is it not plain that, if you are really sorry for me, you will be my -wife? And then I can assure you, from the bottom of my heart, that I -shall be the happiest of men.” - -Such insidious methods of arriving at entirely erroneous conclusions I -was unaccustomed to. It was becoming momentarily plain to me that I -had not known Mr Benjamin Morgan so well as I imagined. I had supposed -that he was an artless sort of person; and now it almost began to -appear that he was a regular Jesuit. - -“I do wish, Mr Morgan, that you would not talk nonsense. I am not -feeling very well, and I can assure you that I am in anything but a -mood for frivolity.” - -“Then our moods are in sympathy. You surely do not suggest that to ask -you to be my wife is to be frivolous. It is to me the most important -question that ever yet was asked. The expression of your sympathy -emboldens me to put it again.--Norah, please say that you will be my -wife.” - -He raised his hand, and with the tips of his fingers touched my -arm--out there in the Broad Walk, before all the people. Something -seemed, all at once, to go right through me;--whether it was the -sudden surprise of his touch, or the strangeness of his tone, I could -not say. But for the moment I felt almost inclined to cry--and to do -something much worse. For one dreadful second I was almost on the -verge of making a perfect idiot of myself. It is frightful to think of -such a thing being possible, but I am nearly disposed to believe that -if we had been alone, and there had been nothing to divert my -attention, I might have done. But just at that second I saw Lena -Portch coming towards us with Mr Champneys, and the smile which she -gave made me frantic. She is Lilian’s particular friend, and quite as -fond of chaffing me about “Crooked Ben” as any of them. I could not -but suspect that there might be something a little peculiar about our -attitude, and the way we were behaving to one another. The idea that I -should allow him to make a public spectacle of me, and furnish Lena -with a first-rate tale for Lilian, was unendurable. I became all at -once so angry--so stupidly angry!--that I forgot my manners -altogether, not to speak of any fragments of common decency which I -may suppose myself to possess, and behaved myself like the absolute -little wretch which at heart I am. - -“Thank you. I am obliged to you for your offer, Mr Morgan. But I do -not care to marry just at present; and, when I do marry, I intend to -marry a man.” - -No one need tell me that it was a perfectly disgraceful thing to say. -No one could have been better aware of it than I was. I could have -bitten my own tongue off for having said it the very moment -afterwards: I never should have said it at all if it had not been for -the horrid smile I saw on Lena’s face, and my instant perception of -the sort of yarn she would make all possible haste to spin. I know -that that is not the least excuse; but it is all the excuse I have to -offer,--I could cry at the mere thought of it even now. - -Lena and Mr Champneys passed on. Mr Morgan was still. He just looked -at me once,--a startled, dreadful sort of look; and then he looked -away, walking on by my side in silence. I seemed somehow to have -caught a sudden chill. I was shivering all over,--I could have beaten -myself with pleasure. How long the silence lasted, or how far we -walked before we spoke again, I have not the faintest notion. But I -know that at last he stood still, and turned, and looked at me,--and -there was something in his look which seemed to make my heart go cold -as ice. He said--there was a quiver in his voice which made me flinch -as if he had struck me with a whip,-- - -“When you do marry, you intend to marry a man. I had not thought, Miss -Norah, that you would have said that to me. Good-day;--and good-bye.” - -He raised his hat, and walked away, and left me speechless, rooted to -the ground, feeling, as I deserved to feel, like an utter fool;--like -a wicked, cruel, thoughtless, idiotic fool,--and worse than that! - - - - - CHAPTER II. - WOMEN’S VOICES - -He never looked round once; though I stood where he had left me, -looking after him till he was lost among the crowd. What people -thought of me I cannot say. And I didn’t care. They must have supposed -that I was a sort of Lot’s wife, turned into a pillar, or something. -But, at that moment, what other people thought of me did not matter in -the least. What I thought of myself was a nightmare. I marched off -home, feeling as if I would have liked to have pinched everyone I met. -I passed Lena Portch, who was still with Mr Champneys,--a most -objectionable person, who _will_ wear shepherd’s-plaid trousers, which -I abominate. Lena was to blame for everything. She stood at the gate -as I was coming out of the Gardens. Directly afterwards I saw that she -was crossing the road. I am sure, if a motor car, which almost made an -end of me, had knocked her down, and run right over her, I would not -have turned a hair. If Mr Champneys does marry her I hope he’ll beat -her. I have a moral conviction that he is just that kind of creature. -What can a man be like who lives in shepherd’s-plaid trousers? - -When I reached home I was hot, and dishevelled, and all anyhow. I knew -I should get it directly I set foot inside the door,--that is, unless -I could manage to slip upstairs before anyone caught sight of me. And -I got it--mamma opened the door for me herself. We had had a -difficulty with our servants. It is my belief that when five women -live alone in a house together they always are having difficulties -with their servants. I know we were. The cook and the parlour-maid had -left at a moment’s notice--or, rather, without a moment’s notice. -Lilian and Audrey had complained about the state their things were in, -as if they had been worn. Inquiries had been made, and there was quite -a scene: I should not be surprised if the cook had worn some of -Lilian’s frocks--they had just about the same figure. Anyhow, only the -housemaid remained, and she was in two minds. And as, as yet, we had -been able to get no one in to help her, we were at her mercy. - -“Why, mamma,” I exclaimed, when I saw that it was she who had opened -the door, “where is Jane?” - -“It’s Jane’s afternoon out; and, of course, I should not dream of -asking her to inconvenience herself to oblige me. It’s the mistresses -who are the servants nowadays. What a state you’re in.” - -She spoke in her most acid tones. Mamma is not very tall, and rather -dumpy, and though she always dresses in black silk she never appears -imposing, though she tries her best to think she does. - -“Why, what’s the matter with me? I’ve been walking fast, and am rather -hot,--that’s all.” - -“All! Haven’t I forbidden you to walk fast? Are you not aware that -nothing accentuates the unfortunate vulgarity of your appearance so -much as heat? Your hat is on one side, your hair is out of curl, your -necktie is under your chin. You look positively blowsy. I am ashamed -to see such a figure entering my house. And where are the things?” - -“Things?” I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten all about them. I -had intended to get them as I returned from my stroll in Kensington -Gardens; but what had taken place there had driven them right out of -my head. “I meant to get them as I came back, but--I didn’t.” - -“Meant to get them as you came back! What do you mean? Did I not send -you out for them, and for them only?” - -“Surely, Norah, you have not come back without my stockings? You know -perfectly well that I can’t wear those shoes without them; nothing I -have will do at all.--And where’s my matching?” - -Lilian had appeared out of the dining-room. She had bought a new pair -of brown shoes, which she wanted to wear that evening, and it seemed -that nothing she had in the way of hose was of quite the proper shade. -She had given me a scrap of material which was the shade. It seemed -that I had not only forgotten her stockings, but lost the matching. -She let me have it when she became aware of the fact. Lilian is tall; -and--sometimes--stately; and is considered smart; but she can be -disagreeable, and most abusive. In fact, they can all of them be that. - -“Really, Norah, you are the most stupid person I ever met. Some people -might suppose that you could not be so stupid as you look; but, I will -do you the justice to admit that you appear to try your very best to -be.” - -That was a pleasant thing to say! While I was searching about for -something nice and stinging to reply, Doris came out of the -morning-room on to the top of the stairs, and she began: - -“I suppose, Norah, that you have brought my fringe-nets, because I -simply can’t do my hair until I have them. I’ve just torn my very -last.” - -Then she supposed wrong, because I had not; and so I told her. The -bathroom door was opened, and Audrey’s voice was heard. I never knew -anyone for baths like Audrey. She likes to have three or four a day, -with the water about up to boiling-point, and oatmeal in it; and there -she lies and stews. What good she thinks it does her is beyond me. I -am sure it doesn’t make her skin any whiter. It couldn’t. It’s -perfectly white and as smooth as satin already. I only wish mine was -like it. - -“Is that Norah? Has she brought that ribbon for my bodice? Because if -she has, I’ll put it in at once.” - -There was no ribbon to be got out of me, neither for her bodice, nor -for anything else, as Eveleen, who had followed Lilian out of the -dining-room, proceeded to explain. - -“Oh dear no! she’s brought nothing, except herself;--and a pretty self -she looks. Upon my word, Norah, I wonder that you can’t manage to keep -yourself a trifle tidy--say about as tidy as the average charwoman. -Especially as you can’t afford to look as if you had got your clothes -on inside out. Some girls can; but, I assure you, you’re not one of -them.” - -Eveleen is one of your dainty bandbox sort of girls. She never wears a -pin. All her clothes seem to be part of her. You might live with her -for years and never know that she even used hairpins. How she prevents -their ever peeping out is beyond my understanding. And as for nets, -they are put on so knowingly, and match her hair so exactly, that you -would never guess that anything of that kind could have anything to do -with the exquisite neatness of her hair. - -“We can’t all appear like barbers’ blocks, and look as if our hair -were sent home, ready dressed, with the fish every day.” - -That was what I observed. We adjourned to the dining-room, and the -discussion began. How many of them we have had of which I have been -the subject! No one ever seems to grow tired of them--except me. - -“Norah,” mamma began, “I must ask you not to be rude. Your natural -vulgarity, I suppose, you cannot help; but I will have you keep a -guard upon your tongue when you are speaking to your sisters. I cannot -understand why Providence ever afflicted me with such a child.” - -“I thought, mamma, that that was a problem which you had given up some -time ago.” - -“Unfortunately, the affliction continues. My other daughters do me -credit”--they were all of them beauties;--that was what made it so -maddening for me. “I myself am not ill-looking.” (Mamma had been very -pretty; and still looked nice, especially at night. Only I wish she -would not wear a transformation--which seems to me to be just the same -thing as a wig. Considering that Lilian is twenty-nine, and everybody -knows it, it is so obvious.) “I therefore cannot understand how it is -that I should have a child who is not only unprepossessing, but who -cannot be induced to pay any attention to even the most elementary -rules of toilet which every gentlewoman observes. A servant would be -ashamed to appear in public in the condition in which you at present -are.” - -Eveleen struck in: - -“I should think so! No decent servant looks as if she had covered -herself with the contents of the rag-bag. Are you aware, Norah, that -your belt has worked up behind, and that the hooks on your skirt are -showing?” - -“And your shoe-lace is untied; and, unless I am mistaken, your -stocking is concertinaed about your ankle;--but she doesn’t mind.” - -This was Lilian. Mamma followed: - -“But _I_ mind. In spite of every obstacle I have treated you exactly -as I have done your sisters. But the problem becomes more serious -every day. How do you suppose that I am ever going to get you properly -settled in life if you persist in making of yourself a scarecrow?--an -absolute figure of fun?--I am compelled to use such language.” - -“Oh, you needn’t trouble about a trifle of that sort. She’s settled -all that for herself. She has her eye on Crooked Ben;--which is only -as it should be, because, then, they’ll be a pair of figures of fun.” - -This, again, was Lilian. The things she allows herself to say when she -is in the mood, if they heard them, would startle some of the people -who call her stately. She may consider herself ultra-refined, and I do -not deny that she looks it, but I am persuaded that at heart she is -almost as vulgar as I am. When she said that, it made me mad. I flew -at her like a wild-cat. I was just in the mood for it. - -“You talk, with a sneer, of Crooked Ben! You may have had bushels of -proposals”--she has had heaps and heaps,--“but there wasn’t one among -the lot worthy to black his boots. As for Mr Rumford, that -bald-headed, bloated object, with quack written large all over him, -you may like to have him muddling about you, but I wouldn’t touch him -with a pair of tongs.” - -Lilian went white. The truth is, she was nearly twenty-nine, and I -suppose thought it about time to have someone for a husband, and as Mr -Rumford was showing a strong inclination to apply for the position, I -rather fancy she was considering whether he would not do. He had made -piles of money out of a patent medicine called “Aunt Jane’s Jalap,” -and was really not such a bad sort in his way: though just then I was -anything but disposed to let her know I thought so. Eveleen took up -the cudgels for Lilian;--they always stand up for each other against -me. - -“What a delicate way you have of putting a thing, Norah. You and your -language are so in keeping. If you could only induce someone to -transfer you from the family of which you so entirely disapprove how -much happier you would be--and we also. Couldn’t you put the screw on -Mr Morgan? He seems to be the only chance you are ever likely to have. -Do make the most of him. Let mamma ask him what he means.” - -“Look here, Eveleen! You think yourself vastly superior to me----” - -“Not at all. Not while your complexion is quite so brilliant--I -couldn’t.” - -“Oh yes, you do. But you’re wrong for all that. You’ve spent your -whole life in chasing men----” - -“I rather fancied that some of them had chased me. But I daresay it’s -the same thing to you.” - -“Is there anything to be proud of in that? You’ve devoted your whole -life to men, anyhow, and I don’t think that’s very womanly.” - -“I think it probable that you wouldn’t--for reasons.--My dear Norah, -do use your handkerchief. There’s a drop of perspiration trickling -down your nose. Or is it a tear? It doesn’t seem to combine with -freckles.” - -Doris struck in. - -“When you people have quite finished, might I ask if I am ever going -to have any fringe-nets? I can’t remain the whole day with my hair in -curlers.” - -She had it in curlers then, and very queer she looked. No one would -have known her for the radiant Doris of her admirers. Nothing takes -the gilt off a girl’s appearance so much as curlers. Unless mamma -makes me I never use them. Thank goodness, my hair has got a curl of -its own, if it is not quite in the style of the barbers’ -fashion-plates. Mamma--who never thinks of being down on them for -anything which they may say to me--was quick at seconding Doris’ -suggestion. - -“Norah, be so good as to let me hear no more from you. Both your -language and your appearance smack of the servants’ hall. You will -fetch the things I requested you to bring before. Then I will ask you -for an explanation of how it is that you have failed to bring them -now. Go up to your room, and make yourself look as decent as you -conveniently can, and be quick about it;--and not another word!” - -Lilian stood up. - -“I suppose I had better find you another matching. You are sure to -bring something impossible if I don’t.” - -Eveleen put in her word. - -“I should say that she’s sure to bring something impossible in any -case. I would rather be excused from trusting her to get anything of -the least importance for me. I admire your courage.” - -“She had better not make any mess about those nets of mine,” cried -Doris; “or things will become exhilarating. Norah, if you tell them at -Morrel’s that they’re for me there will be no mess. I suppose you have -some sense.” - -“Doris, what an inexhaustible fund of confidence you have in Norah. It -may be sisterly; but is it wise?” - -Just as I was going to snap off Eveleen’s nose, of course mamma must -interfere: - -“Now, Norah, not another word. Do as I tell you. Go upstairs, and -endeavour to make yourself look more like a daughter of mine should -do, and then go and fetch those things--and mind there are no -mistakes.” - -I went upstairs. As I went I heard Eveleen laugh. I knew she was -laughing at me. She may have a musical laugh--I have been told -hundreds of times she has, so I suppose she must have--but it did not -sound musical to me just then. It put all my nerves on edge. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - THE UNFINISHED SENTENCE - -Was it strange that I was in a pretty state of mind? Was it to be -wondered at that I hardly knew if I was standing on my head or heels? - -When I got into my room I slammed the door, and turned the key. I tore -my hat off and threw it on to the bed. I could have cried; but I make -it a rule never to cry--or hardly ever. Besides, I was only too well -aware that if I once started I never should leave off; and then I -should have jumped from the frying-pan into the fire, with a -vengeance. They would tear me to pieces if I did not make haste and -get the rubbish they wanted. - -I went to the looking-glass. There was no mistake about it, I did look -hideous. There was some excuse for some of the things they said. It -has always been a conviction of mine that if they would let me dress -as I pleased I might look presentable. But they won’t let me. They all -dress like fashion-plates, and nothing could suit them better; and -they make me dress like the fashion-plates, and nothing could suit me -less. I believe they are afraid of me getting out of the picture; or, -rather, of my being a sort of picture all by myself, and so diverting -attention from them. As it is I am a kind of raree show. So whenever -they take me out with them--which is very seldom; for, in any case, -five sisters are a frightful crowd--I am either a perpetual -wallflower, or an ideal gooseberry, neither of which _rôles_ I care -for in the very least. - -I am big--taller than Lilian, and much broader. I have great limbs--I -cannot help it if they are like a man’s, though mamma is always -throwing it in my teeth. I like all sorts of exercise. The only form -of exercise they really like is dancing. They dance exquisitely. My -dancing is like an elephant’s--I am always having to apologise for -getting on my partner’s toes. I should like to spend the whole of my -life in the open air. I sometimes fancy that mamma thinks there is -something improper in being out-of-doors. She is always exclaiming -against what she calls masculine women--by which she means girls who -golf, and row, and ride bicycles, and all that sort of thing. I should -like to go in for everything athletic, but they won’t let me. They -keep me fastened in a tight pair of corsets, which sometimes make me -feel as if I were being held in a vice. I am in a dreadful -condition--soft as putty, instead of hard as nails. I cannot walk a -quarter of a mile, at anything like a decent pace, without perspiring. -Then they laugh at me. If they would let me go in for some real hard -work, like lots of other girls do, I would soon show them. By nature I -am a sort of female Hercules; it is a shame that they insist on making -me a jelly-fish. - -I want to have plenty of room inside my clothes. I want my hair to do -itself; it would not look so bad with just a touch or two, even if it -ran a trifle wild. I want my boots and shoes to humour my feet, I do -not want my feet to have to humour them; I am not ashamed of their -being large. I do not want to be screwed into an imitation Paris -costume, which is too tight everywhere, and bursts when I lift my -arms. I know I look a gawk in it, and I always shall. If they would -let me be natural--my own self--I do believe I should pass muster. -Girls of my build are not meant to be made up in imitation of Dresden -china, or Watteau drawings. - -The result of such attempts was to be seen there in the mirror. A -great picture hat, with the flowers all anyhow. Flowers never will -look as they ought to on my big hats--flopping about in a lop-sided -fashion, on the crest of a draggly handful of sandy-coloured hair. It -does not look a handful; but that is because they make me wear pads -and frames, and all sorts of horrors, which will show through; and -they call it sandy, though it is my private opinion that it is a sort -of light chestnut. If they would only let me do it up in a simple -twist, and wear it on the top of my head, I am persuaded that it would -not look half bad, though I am aware that the colour is unusual. Under -the floppity hat, a good-sized face, with big grey eyes, a straight -nose, largish mouth--it is a decent shape if it is large, and the lips -are nice ones. The freckles I do not deny; but there are not more than -twelve or thirteen altogether, and they are principally on the left -side of my nose. But the perspiration I was in! It made me disgusted -to see that my skin was positively greasy, and there were beads upon -my forehead. The truth is, I am built for work, or, at any rate, for -plenty of hard out-of-doors exercise; and if I cannot get it, I am -bound to be a nuisance to myself, and an object to others. Mr Morgan, -if one of his shoulders is a little higher than the other, is an -all-round athlete, though he was so weak as a child. It is because he -has gone in for everything that he is now as strong as a horse. If I -went in for everything, I believe that inside twelve months I should -be a different person. - -I only wished that I had a chance of trying. - -When I saw what a sight I looked in that glass, and how unfitted I was -to fill the fashion-plate _rôle_ for which they insisted on casting -me, I did feel that some people had all the luck, while others had -none. My chances for having a good time were slipping -away--twenty-three is an age. The good marriage I was expected to make -was a dream of the mater’s: as she was beginning bitterly to realise: -unless I married Ben Morgan, which, of course, would be absurd. -Compared with my sisters, I was not in it. Not a man would ever look -at me when they were by, or even near. Considering that it was -supposed to be my mission in life to attract men, it was really tragic -what an awful failure I was. Among the dozens who were proud to call -themselves my sisters’ friends, I doubt if there were many who even -knew my Christian name. I was quite aware how they talked of me. - -“You know that youngest O’Brady girl? Sort of understudy for a -grenadier, who looks as if she got her clothes from a dealer in -decayed wardrobes, and put them on inside out.” - -“You don’t mean to say that that’s the youngest?” - -“She’s the youngest in years and sense; but so far as looks and that -sort of thing is concerned, she might have come out of the ark. Can’t -think what they call the creature.” - -“What does it matter what they call a girl like that?” - -That was part of a conversation I once overheard at a dance. The first -speaker had been recently entrapped into having a waltz with me, which -I doubt if he had enjoyed. I know I hadn’t--a possible explanation of -his exceeding bitterness. But that his remarks were typical of the -kind of thing which was being said of me on all sides I had every -reason to suppose. - -What could people be expected to say of such an object as I saw before -me in that looking-glass? - -“Oh,” I cried, “if only for a short time I could have my time! If I -could only make those girls feel what I have felt--the insolence of -masculine imbeciles, the snubs of conceited boys, the contemptuous -impertinence of their uncles and their fathers, even of their -grandsires! If only I could treat some of those men as all of them -have treated me I’d give--well, it’s no use my talking about giving -anything, because I’ve just simply nothing to give; but wouldn’t I -like to have the chance.” - -I had my comb in my hand at the moment. I had torn off my hat, and was -trying to do something to my hair, without letting it down, and taking -my bodice off, and all the rest of the fuss which a girl has to go -through if she wants to titivate herself. I brought the comb down bang -whack against the dressing-table to emphasise my concluding -aspiration. - -“If only every masculine thing had to fall madly in love with me at -sight! There; now I’ve done it!” - -I had--broken the comb into two clear halves. And I had only had it a -week. I cannot think how it is that my things do break so. I should -have to buy a new one that very afternoon; though it would only be a -shilling one, because funds were low, and combs were waste of money. - -As I was surveying the broken pieces with a pretty wry face--it was a -tortoise-shell comb; I happened to know that mamma had paid -twelve-and-six for it, to match my toilet-set; she would go on when -she knew what had happened--I became conscious that something very odd -indeed was taking place. On the top of the little drawers which was on -one side of my dressing-table was half a sheet of notepaper. Just an -ordinary half-sheet which I had torn off somebody’s letter and left -there; I have a trick of keeping half-sheets. A second ago that -half-sheet was blank. Now I became aware that someone--or -something--was writing on it. I heard a faint scratching noise. -Turning, I saw that letters were forming upon the paper--how, I cannot -say. They appeared to be written in ink, though there were no signs of -a pen, and certainly none of anybody holding it. - -It was the strangest feeling, to stand there and watch words -apparently writing themselves upon that piece of paper. I know it -sounds incredible, and it is incredible; but it’s true, for all that. -It was just simply the most extraordinary thing that ever -happened--and lots of people know that extraordinary things do happen. -When you have lived to my time of life, and have had my experience, -you know that as a solemn fact. Though, I repeat once more, that that -was the most wonderful experience even I ever had. - -I cannot describe my sensations as I stood there watching. The two -halves of the comb in my hands, my hair all anyhow, my bodice -positively maddening beneath my arms, and, I was convinced, unhooked -behind, rage in my bosom, perspiration on my brow. It was so -frightfully mysterious; there is nothing I dislike like things I do -not understand, they make you feel yourself so insignificant. Then the -letters went on forming themselves before my eyes, and there I -remained looking on like a stuck pig, until I could endure it no -longer. I snatched up the paper, exclaiming: - -“What are you doing?” - -Though to whom I addressed the inquiry I have not the faintest notion. -On that half-sheet of paper, staring me in the face, were the words: - -“Your wish shall be gratified u----” - -The sentence ended with the letter “u,” just that, and nothing more. -It seemed that I had snatched it up before it was finished, so that -what the conclusion would have been was still another mystery. Though, -beside the first and chief mystery of how those words came there at -all, other considerations were but trifles. What did they mean? “Your -wish shall be gratified u----” What wish? I was continually wishing. I -never have anything, and nothing ever happens that I really want, so -it is only natural. To what wish was the reference made? For what -particular thing had I been wishing recently? - -Why--not a minute ago--with what wild words had I been easing my mind? -In my temper--my usual temper. I certainly am the worst-tempered girl -I ever met, though I believe that, as a rule, girls are worse tempered -than men--they have more cause to be, poor things. In some things it -is horrid being a girl--what was it I had said? Something about every -masculine creature tumbling head over heels in love with me at sight. -Had I not wished that that fate were mine? - -Was that the wish? No; absurd! ridiculous! preposterous! What could -put such nonsensical thoughts into my head? It just showed, when your -head was empty, what stuff could get in. But--still---- - -My gracious! If that was the wish which was to be gratified, would it -not be--wouldn’t it just be larks. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE EPISODE OF THE BAKER’S BOY - -As I continued wondering, with the paper still in my hand, mamma’s -voice called to me outside the door. - -“Norah! there’s the baker at the door; you must go and take in the -bread.” - -“Mamma!” I exclaimed. - -“You must. Jane said she would come back for tea, but she hasn’t put -in an appearance yet. Somebody must go, and I can’t, and your sisters -are dressing; you ought to be ready by now; you must do those errands. -There, he’s knocking again--go down to him at once!” - -I obeyed. Did my hair somehow, crammed my hat on anyhow, and down the -stairs I went. A pretty task to set me! Down the kitchen stairs I -hurried, to the area door, on the glass window of which vigorous -knuckles were beating a sort of tattoo. The moment I opened it I was -greeted in the most surprising way. - -“Now then, slowcoach, you seem to take some time a-washing of -yourself! Think I’ve got nothing else to do except keep on a-waiting -here all day?” - -I was astonished. I fancy, when he saw me, that the speaker was -astonished too, though he scarcely showed it in a manner which I -thought fitting. - -“Hollo! beg pardon! my crikey! Are you the new young lady?” - -Evidently this was a person who needed a good deal of freezing. I -wondered that even Jane had not succeeded in snubbing him into better -manners. I assumed my most dignified bearing--which is not saying -much, for dignity is not my strongest point--and was as frigid as the -fact that my actual temperature was somewhere about boiling point -permitted. - -“Please give me the bread.” - -“That’s all right! I’ll give it you with the very greatest pleasure; -and I’d like to give you something else as well.” - -And before I could stop him, this remarkable individual was off at a -gallop on a line which was distinctly his very own. - -“My name’s Bob Stevens. I’ve been walking out with the young lady what -was here before you. She left yesterday; cruel hard they treated her; -no young lady couldn’t have stood it what had any spirit. This is a -nice place, this is--five scratch-catting young women, and an old -geeser of a mother. It won’t suit you; you’ll leave at the end of your -month, they all of them do.” - -That was an outrageous falsehood. Some of our servants have stopped -with us more than a year. But it was impossible for me to contradict -him. - -“But Eliza--that’s the young lady I was a-telling you about--ain’t -quite my fancy. And if so be as you haven’t got a young man just at -present, or if you was a-feeling a bit off colour with the one you -have got, why, I’d be proud and happy to fill the situation. I’m -getting good money--five-and-twenty bob a week without perks”--I -suppose he meant perquisites--“besides money in the bank, and a few -sticks towards a home, including a drawing-room settee in sky-blue -satin what I got from a friend of mine whose wife hooked off with -another bloke. You just tell me your night out, and I’ll be there on -time, you bet your hat--and a beauty it is, regular market-garden I -call it--and if we don’t fix the day before we part, it won’t be no -fault of mine. I mean business, I do, straight.” - -Anything like that person’s volubility I never encountered. I could -not stop him. I seldom am ready of speech, and before that baker’s boy -I felt tongue-tied. Not the least amazing part of it was that he -seemed a mere lad of, at the outside, eighteen years, with a fresh -complexion, and, I should have said, a babe for innocence. It shows -how deceptive appearances are. At last I could get a word in edgeways, -and I got it. - -“I think you are mistaken.” - -But he cut me short. - -“Not much, I’m not. I’m not that sort of chap. Never make mistakes, I -don’t--at least, not of that kind. I know when I like a girl as well -as any man; and I tell you, honest, that I never was so gone on a -young lady as I am on you.” - -“I still think you are mistaken, because I happen to be one of the -five scratch-catting young women you alluded to. I am Miss Norah -O’Brady.” - -Some baker’s boys would have been abashed, but he was not. He retained -his presence of mind in a fashion I could not have equalled. And, -really, for a person in his position, he was not bad-looking. - -“Lor’, now, if I didn’t think you was a real lady! You’d have been -took for a real lady by almost anyone. You look it--every inch. A -regular queen you look. You’ll excuse me, miss, for seeming to make so -free; but, however humble a man may be, he’s still a man.” - -“Please give me the bread.” - -He began cramming loaves and things in paper bags into my arms in a -manner which I found embarrassing, talking all the time. - -“If there’s any mortal thing that I can do for you, no matter what it -is, you’ve only got to name it, and you can consider it done. What’s -more, I’m on to get you any blessed thing you want, from the Lord -Mayor’s coach to----” - -I did not wait for him to explain to what--I presume his remarks were -tailing off into metaphor--but, withdrawing into the passage, I shut -the door in his face, taking the precaution to turn the key. - -It was well I did, because he instantly tried the handle, and, when he -found it would not yield, rapping at the frosted glass panels, he -addressed me from without: - -“Excuse me, miss, for one single moment, but would you allow me to -say----” - -I should have thought that permission to say anything was the last -thing he would have required. Anyhow, I did not give it. - -Depositing the articles he had just given me on the kitchen table, I -marched upstairs. At the top I met mamma. - -“Norah, what do you mean by carrying on an animated conversation with -the baker’s man?” I carrying on an animated conversation! My share in -it had been small. “What an extraordinary creature you are. Your -cheeks look as if they were positively burning.” - -Hers would have looked the same if she had borne my part in the scene -which had just been enacted. But I said nothing. - -“You must go and do those errands at once, your sisters are waiting. -Be as quick as you decently can, and please, if possible, forget -nothing.” - -She gave me no time to compose myself, but opening the front door with -her own hands ushered me through it, as if I were some bothering -visitor whom she was in a dreadful hurry to see the last of. - -As I might have expected, that baker’s boy was still there. He had -hardly had time to take himself off with his barrow. But that was no -reason why he should plant himself right in the centre of the -pavement, and address me, the moment I appeared, as if I had been an -equal, with mamma looking down at us from the open door. - -“Excuse me, miss, if I seem to take a liberty, but might I ask you if -you was fond of chocolate creams?” - -I held my head a trifle higher than I might have done if mamma had not -been up there, because I _am_ fond of chocolate creams, though what -business it was of his I cannot think--and I annihilated him finally: - -“If you attempt to speak to me again I shall report you to your -master, and you will find yourself without a situation.” - -I marched off and left him standing in a preposterous and most -unseemly attitude--his great basket at his side--as if glued to the -paving-stones. And I heard him mutter: - -“Cruel as the grave--and cold.” - -That ridiculous, insolent boy--he was nothing else--positively heaved -a sigh which followed me like a gust of wind, with mamma still at the -top of the front-door steps. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE FURTHER EPISODES OF THE SHOP-WALKER AND THE ARTIST IN HAIR - -As I marched along--remembering mamma’s instructions to be as quick -as I “decently” could, without, however, laying too much stress upon -the “decently”--I became aware of something unusual--people were -staring, especially male people. - -Now I have been stared at in the street, but I do not remember that it -was ever in what you could exactly call a flattering way. - -There can be no doubt that my person is a striking one, after a -fashion; but it is not precisely in the fashion. I am an extra large -size all over. My legs are prodigious. I stride along in a style which -some persons have said reminds them of the gentleman with the -seven-league boots. Mr Morgan was once rude enough to tell me that it -always seemed to him that it was the chief ambition of my life to -cross Regent Street in a step and a-half. When I am walking with the -others I suffer agonies, and I am thankful to think that they are not -altogether comfortable. They take about three steps to the yard--the -kind of shoes they wear won’t permit of anything else. And at such a -pace! I cannot keep up with them; and it is some satisfaction to know -they cannot keep up with me. We jangle and wrangle all the time, until -at last I go off by myself; and then we are happy. At least, I know I -am. - -This peculiarity of mine--because, I suppose, it is a peculiarity--has -more than once been commented on by perfect strangers. I once heard -one street boy remark to another, just as I was passing: - -“What yer, Bill! ’ere comes the lady grenadier! Can’t she move -’em!--and ain’t she got ’em to move!” - -Another time a dreadful creature asked of a companion: - -“I wonder if that young lady’s got stilts underneath her clothes? They -can’t be all her own.” - -That was the sort of staring I had been used to. But this was -different. Men of all sorts, of all ages, turned and looked at me. -When their eyes reached my face, there was something in them which I -did not altogether like. It gave me a curious sensation. I have seen -men stare at the others with something like that look in their eyes. I -wondered if they liked it. I was not by any means sure I did. Anyhow, -I was not accustomed to that kind of thing. I wondered what they meant -by it. - -It was not any better when I reached the draper’s. The shop-walker -opened the door for me--with such a smile. He was one of those pretty -fellows, with moustache turned up at the ends, who really are most -trying. His smile seemed to be a fixture. It kept growing larger and -larger, and, I presume, sweeter. I hate your pretty fellows. I should -like my man to be almost ugly; indeed, I should not mind if he was -quite. I spoke to him in the most snubby fashion I could command, -perceiving that this was another case in which snubbing might be -required. There seemed to be something in the air that afternoon which -made men behave in a most unusual manner. - -“I want to see some lady’s hose!” - -“For yourself?” - -There was something in the way he put the question for which I really -could have hit him. What did it matter to him who they were for? He -led me to a counter behind which there was the usual girl, and on -which there was a box full of silk things--such colours! He began to -spread them out in front of me, with a smile for which I would have -liked to stick a pin into him. - -“Now, here is something particularly smart. I am sure it would suit -you--pure silk; guaranteed--were fifteen-and-six, are -eight-and-eleven. Amazing value. But you shall have them for--” he -hesitated--“for one-and-ninepence-halfpenny. Indeed, it would afford -me the greatest pleasure to give them to you.” - -When he said that, the girl behind the counter stared; and I stared, -too. Was he mad? Was he seriously proposing to present me--free, -gratis, for nothing--with his master’s silk stockings? The man must -have been drinking. I froze him. - -“Thank you. The articles are not required by myself. And, if you don’t -mind, I would rather that this young lady served me.” I turned to the -young lady in question, who was wearing a peculiar look. “I want a -pair of brown silk stockings, that shade”; and I handed her Lilian’s -matching. - -While the girl was endeavouring to find what I wanted, that -shop-walker continued to pester me. And not only so, but the -shop-walker from the opposite counter came and joined his attentions -to the other’s, pressing on me the most ridiculous things. When I -severely snubbed them both, they began to smile at one another. We -were the centre of observation, alike to customers and assistants. - -I was delighted to get out of the shop with Lilian’s stockings at -last. I made no attempt to get Audrey’s ribbon. And I would have gone -straight off home without Doris’s fringe-nets, had I dared; but I did -not dare. Morrel’s was close at hand; practically on the way, and if I -had returned without them, there would not only have been a tremendous -disturbance, but they would probably have sent me back again. - -The worst of it was that I disliked Morrel’s. I loathe hairdressers. -They always seem to regard women as so many dummies, or, at least, -lay-figures, of whom they can make anything they please. I am -convinced that they despise us. What else can you expect? Thousands -and thousands of us owe all our charms to them. They give countless -women their complexions, their eyebrows--indeed, to all intents and -purposes, their entire faces. Hundreds of thousands owe all their hair -to them. Their little flirty curls, on pins, for all sorts of -occasions--Lilian has rows of them, stuck on sheets of cork, like -butterflies--their fringes, coils, switches, transformations, their -entire wigs, not to speak of the foundations on which they build. Then -think of the dyes, restorers, so-called washes, curling fluids, and -all that kind of thing. Oh, dear! The girls spend heaps of money at -Morrel’s. I believe that mamma would just as soon die as do without -such places. - -Why I particularly objected to Morrel’s was because there they were -always at me to do as the others did; and I know that, in their -politely insolent way, they jeered at me because I refused. Mr Morrel -himself was a horror--a little, stoutish man, with his scanty, -light-brown hair curled in rows. He reeked of perfume. I would far -sooner have sat in a third-class smoking-carriage, full of -horny-handed sons of toil, all “blowing” shag--I believe that that’s -the proper word--than have occupied a chair next to him. And he, in -his heart, I knew, despised me; first, for belonging to such a -barber’s block family, and then for refusing to allow him to practise -any of his arts to supply the charms which I was quite aware that I so -plentifully lacked. - -When I entered the shop, I found that he was alone in it. I was -disgusted. He stood simpering behind his glass cases, twiddling a -frightfully blonde curl, to which he was giving some finishing touches -on its pin. As a rule, there was a young woman in the shop--with such -a head of hair. It was never done twice in the same style; daily -visits in search of packets of hairpins would have been as good as a -course of hairdressing lessons--not to speak of his wife, who always -seemed somewhere about. His special business was to look after the -hairdressing rooms. - -As he saw it was I, I believe he was going to ring for his assistant. -It was beneath his dignity to personally attend on me. But, as he -continued to look at me, on a sudden, he changed his mind. I was -persuaded that, as it were, a wave of emotion crept over him; all at -once he altered so completely. His simper assumed the dimensions of a -beam. Putting his fingers to his oily hair, he regarded me in a manner -which, whatever he might think to the contrary, far from became him. - -“And what may I do for you, Miss O’Brady?” - -“I want half-a-dozen fringe-nets for my sister Doris. She says that -you know the shade.” - -“And what do you want for yourself, Miss Norah?” - -“Nothing, thank you. Will you please give them me as quickly as you -can. I’m in a hurry.” - -He put his head on one side like an owl. It was idiotic. - -“Ah, Miss Norah, I am afraid that you despise my art. You are yourself -so beautiful that you do not stand in need of it.” - -“Are you aware what you are saying? Kindly give me those fringe-nets.” - -“Yet I also am an artist. As many perfect pictures are the work of my -fingers as you will find upon the walls of an Academy.” - -“I never said they weren’t.” - -“But, Miss Norah, you have towards me an air of aloofness. Yet I am -more essential to a woman than her milliner--than her costumier. What -is the most perfect toilette with an indifferent coiffure. Even beauty -cannot safely scorn me. If you will do me the inestimable honour of -entrusting your lovely head to me for a few brief minutes I do not -think you will regret it when you perceive the result. It is true that -nature has given you hair which is perfect in texture, exquisite in -colour----” - -“Mr Morrel, do you know what you are saying?” - -Mamma had told me over and over again that Morrel had assured her that -nothing could be done with my hair if I refused to have it -“tinted”--which I always had refused, and always should refuse to -permit. He had as good as hinted that, from his point of view, its -colour was an atrocity, an outrage! Now he had the assurance to tell -me, to my face, that he thought it exquisite. And he was not to be put -down either. - -“I, of all men in England, should know what I am saying on a subject -on which I, among all my compeers, am best qualified to speak. As an -artist there is no one living who is worthy to hold a comb with me. It -were false modesty to pretend the contrary. As a lad I was a lightning -shaver; I could remove a stubborn beard with an ease which was a -rapture to its wearer. I was scarcely out of my apprenticeship when, -on two occasions, I won first prizes in the National Competition in -Artistic Hairdressing. I should have undoubtedly won a third, if for -originality alone--the originality of my ideas has always been -admitted--had not a cabal--all leaders of art become, sooner or later, -the victims of a cabal--had not a cabal, I say, actuated by motives on -which I will not enlarge, bestowed my prize upon a mere pretender. The -desert they could not alienate. It was notorious.” - -“This is very interesting, Mr Morrel; but would you mind giving me my -sister’s fringe-nets?” - -“One moment, Miss Norah, if you please. You continue to regard me with -a scorn which blights. An artist’s is a sensitive soul. I implore you -not to flash the arrows of your disdain in the tender target of my -heart!” - -“I shall tell mamma, Mr Morrel, if you talk to me like that. Will you -give me my sister’s fringe-nets?” - -“I will; certainly I will. After all, I am a man of business. Let me -not forget it, even at such a moment as this. But, at the same time, -let me prove to you that I am not only commercial. Let me entreat your -personal acceptance of some trifle in evidence. For instance, this -handglass, in its way a gem. Held at the proper angle it will give you -a view of your back hair, the clarity of which will surprise you.” - -“Thank you, Mr Morrel; but I don’t want a handglass.” - -“Then this manicure set, mounted in gold. Its constant use might -embellish even your hands--if it be possible to paint the lily.” - -It made me so cross to hear him, when, all the while, he probably knew -that it is only with anguish that I can cram my hands into -six-and-threequarters. - -“I want nothing except my sister’s fringe-nets. Will you, or will you -not, give them to me?” - -“Your coldness scorches me, if I may use a seeming paradox. In the -most literal sense I will give them to you. Permit me to present you -with six fringe-nets, for the use of Miss Doris O’Brady.” - -“My sister tells me that you charge her a shilling each for them. Here -is half-a-sovereign. Please give me the change.” - -“I will not give you the change, nor will I take your half-sovereign. -Do you wish to grind me beneath your heel--to insult me?” - -“Insult you!” - -“The fringe-nets are a present to you for your sister, since you will -accept nothing for yourself--unless, at the eleventh hour, you will -permit me to add the manicure set and the handglass.” - -“I think, Mr Morrel, that you must be suffering from something this -afternoon. Do you suppose, for one single instant, that either my -sister or I wishes you to give us our fringe-nets? I insist upon -paying for them.” - -“You cannot. It is impossible. I decline to allow you to pay for -them.” - -“What’s that you decline to allow?” - -Mrs Morrel’s appearance in the shop I hailed with a sensation of real -relief. - -“Mrs Morrel, I want six fringe-nets, and, for some reason or other, Mr -Morrel won’t let me pay for one. They’re six shillings, and I want him -to take for them out of this half-sovereign, and he won’t.” - -“Give me the half-sovereign. I’ll soon make that right.” - -Her husband interposed, or tried to: - -“My dear, I must ask you not to intrude between this young lady and -myself.” - -She cut him relentlessly short. - -“Here is your change, Miss O’Brady; and here are the fringe-nets.” - -“Thank you. Good-afternoon.” - -He tried again. - -“My dear, I am master in my own shop, and you must permit me to -state----” - -I did not wait to hear what it was that he wished to state. I had -heard more than enough of his statements already. Insincere, -smooth-tongued, artificial creature! I had had no idea that he was so -horrid, though I had known that he was horrid enough. I left the shop -with the fringe-nets in one hand and the change in the other; and I -make no doubt that directly my back was turned an animated discussion -commenced as to who was and who was not master there, and how far that -mastery went. Had I been Mrs Morrel I would have made it clear to her -objectionable husband, when it came to presenting the stock to casual -female customers, that his mastery ceased before it reached that -point. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - MISS NORAH FEELS ODD - -It was more than humiliating to be the cause of dissension between a -hairdresser and his wife, not to speak of that shop-walker’s eccentric -behaviour. And I did feel so strange, so topsy-turveyish. As if -something had got into my veins and set them all of a glow. Ordinarily -I am convinced that I should have slaughtered Mr Morrel, and the -shop-walker, and the baker’s boy. But, somehow, that afternoon, -although I knew that I ought to be shocked, and amazed, and furious, I -could not be either of the three to anything like the extent which I -was well aware I ought to have been. For some extraordinary reason I -seemed almost to feel that it was quite natural that male creatures in -their position of life should behave to me in what, to say the least, -was a peculiar way. It was a dreadful thought, but I appeared to be -possessed by a sort of consciousness that every man I met was drawn -towards me by a sort of magnetic influence which both he and I well -knew was irresistible. It was an extremely novel sensation, and not a -very agreeable one either. - -When I reached home I saw mamma watching for me through the -drawing-room window. It was she who opened the door. - -“So you have returned at last. And this time I hope you have brought -everything!” - -“Except Audrey’s ribbon. She will have to manage with what she has.” - -“And why have you not brought that?” - -“Because I did not propose to be insulted any further.” - -“Insulted! Norah! What do you mean?” - -“It’s of no consequence. Audrey will be able to manage very well -without it. I know her. She has probably dozens of yards of ribbon -already of just the kind she wants; only she thinks it’s too much -trouble to look for it.” - -Mamma eyed me doubtfully, as if she could not make me out. I should -have been surprised if she could. I was not only beyond her -comprehension, I was beyond my own. After a momentary pause she went -on: - -“Lilian has received a telegram from Mr Rumford, to say that he is -calling this afternoon to ask her to come out with him this evening. -Possibly he intends to say something decisive. Jane has returned, but -Lilian is preparing, and you know that she doesn’t like to be hurried, -and I have to change my dress, and as he may come at any moment if we -are not ready you will have to receive him.” - -“Mamma! Why can’t one of the others do that? You know I’m not very -fond of Mr Rumford, and I’m sure he doesn’t like me.” - -“Don’t talk nonsense! It’s not a question of like or dislike, you will -do as I wish, he doesn’t come to see you. Audrey and Doris rather -expect that Mr Carter and Mr Purchase may drop in to tea, so they are -changing. Eveleen has a slight headache, and is lying down; she thinks -it possible that sometime during the afternoon Mr Hammond may call, -and she wants to be well enough to receive him. So until some of us -are ready you will have to act as hostess.” - -“In this attire?” - -“You will have no time to change; somebody may come at any second; and -I tell you again that they’re not coming to see you. You know very -well that no one ever looks at you, whatever you have on. But run -upstairs and get your hat off, and some of that unbecoming colour off -your face, and do try to look decent.” - -I obeyed her. - -As I went upstairs I was conscious of some most singular sensations, -nearly approaching to forebodings. It was absurd, yet at the bottom of -my heart I suspected that if they only could have guessed, none of -them would have asked me to receive those men. If disaster followed, -their feelings would be beyond description, while the fault would -certainly not be mine. - -I was just entering my room when mamma called out to me. - -“By the way, Norah, if Major Tibbet should come before I am ready keep -him as much amused as possible. You know how impatient he is, and how -easily bored; but I won’t be an instant longer than I can help.” - -So Major Tibbet was coming also! There was evidently going to be a -crowd of them as usual; though, as mamma had been careful to observe, -none of them ever came to see me. But, on this occasion, it was -remotely possible that a change might come o’er the spirit of the -scene. Something within me seemed to hint at it. - -As for Major Paul Tibbet, he was one of my pet abominations. An -unsoldierly old man, painted, padded, and wigged. I should think that -when he had got all off that he had put on there was nothing left of -him but a mere husk. And so conceited! He talked of nothing else but -women, and his conquests of them. It was nauseous. What mamma could -see in him was beyond my comprehension. Yet it had dawned on me more -and more, and the others had dropped hints, that if he asked her she -might become Mrs Tibbet, and present us with a new papa. What a -prospect! That made-up relic, whom I could have picked up and swung -over my head with one hand, my papa! I remembered my father as a tall, -handsome man, brave to the point of recklessness, who had broken his -neck while hunting. That anyone could dream of substituting that -effigy for him! I gathered that he had a deal of money. I fear that -mamma is not so indifferent to that consideration as she might be. - -Once inside my room I gave way to a most odd mixture of despondency -and exultation. What had happened to me? What did this odd something -inside me which seemed as if it would like to start me dancing, mean? -Where did it come from? How? And why? What was the explanation of the -singular behaviour of those men; of all those men? I could have cried, -if I had not felt so disposed to laugh. It was most confusing. - -On the dressing-table was the scrap of paper on which those mysterious -words had been so mysteriously written. I had left it there when I -went out. Could they have had anything to do with the eccentricities -of those ridiculous men? My common-sense--I have common-sense, and -plenty of it; it is my strongest point--told me that the mere notion -was nonsense. In some way or other I had been the victim of my own -imagination, though until then I was not aware that I had any to be -the victim of. I am not an imaginative being. I declare I am not. -Quite the other way. Still it stood to reason that I could not have -seen those words coming on the paper in the way I had supposed. They -must have been there before. And I had been a silly. I caught up the -half-sheet, meaning to tear it into pieces for having made me make -such a goose of myself. - -But I could not. Something seemed to take me by the wrists and prevent -me. I let the paper drop from between my fingers in a flutter of -amazement. I looked at the glass in front of me. Could this be myself -that I was looking at? Then I certainly was not so ill-looking as I -had supposed. I might be big, but I was striking. My cheeks were aglow -with health. My lips parted in a radiant smile, for which I could have -kissed myself. The whitest of white teeth shone through them. My eyes -laughed back at me in a fashion which set all my pulses beating. -Ill-looking, with eyes like those? What rubbish people would talk! -They were alive with all sorts of things, two of the daintiest, most -mischievous, frankest, tenderest, dancing lures which were ever set in -a woman’s head. Why, the freckles on my nose positively set them off. - -Really, as I observed the reflection in that mirror I was not at all -surprised at the conduct of those men. There was some excuse for them, -after all. No woman might see it, but I was sure that other men would -quickly. One woman is slow to see what it is in another woman which -attracts a man. But I knew then. No man, and no boy either who was -even in the neighbourhood of manhood, could meet those eyes -without--well, without feeling some sort of a sensation. I was -perfectly sure that he could not. - -I put my hands up to my face, and laughed!--and actually blushed! It -was so very odd. And so amusing! I felt--it is difficult to describe -exactly--but I was twittering from head to foot, as with a -consciousness of suddenly acquired powers which made me--I do not know -precisely what word to use, but I will write it irresponsible. I was -more than half-ashamed. I doubted if it was a proper feeling for a -girl to have. At twenty-three one ought to be discreet. - -Suddenly the door opened and Doris put her head in. She was in her -petticoat, and her hair all down. - -“Norah! Whatever are you figuring about before the glass for like -that? Mr Purchase and Mr Carter are coming down the street; go to the -drawing-room at once. Audrey and I will race down as fast as ever we -can, but you must go this moment.” - -She just said that, and was off again. It was as well she was, the -idea of her catching me like that made me go a peony-red all over. I -am not in the habit of “figuring about” before a looking-glass, and -nobody can say I am. - -So Mr Purchase and Mr Carter were coming down the street? I felt, -well, I am afraid that I felt delighted. If Doris had only known I -doubt if she would have been so anxious that I should hurry down. They -were two of the very nicest boys we know, and had behaved quite -decently even to me. They were sometimes apt to treat me in a free and -easy, brotherly sort of fashion which I rather liked. So far as I -could see there was no nonsense about them whatever. They were -inseparable chums, kind of David and Jonathan, and always hunted in -couples. - -Jack Purchase was supposed to be a barrister, but so far as I could -see the only thing he really did was to make ardent love to Doris. He -was tolerably well off, but Doris was a desperate flirt and led him a -tremendous dance. I believe that in her heart she more than liked him, -but it seemed as if she was incapable of owning as much to any man. So -many men had been over head and ears in love with her that I suppose -she had come to think that it would be undignified to admit any -feeling of the kind for one of them. Mamma was very anxious to get her -off, and would have liked nothing better than to have had Mr Purchase -as a son-in-law. But Doris did not care a snap of the fingers for what -mamma said, and her partisanship rather damaged him in her eyes, if -anything. She was a contrary little wretch. - -Basil Carter was nothing at all, except a young gentleman of means. He -was very keen to be a statesman, or a Member of Parliament, or -whatever it is. He had tried to get in twice and had failed each time, -but declared that the third time he meant to succeed. I hoped he -would; though, for my part, I cannot see why anyone should wish to be -a ridiculous M.P. I have met lots of them. They are most of them -sillies, though some of them think themselves tin gods. I don’t know -why. They only talk, and most of them cannot do that with decency. -Nearly all the few things they do do they do all wrong, and had much -better have left undone. - -He has a most lovely yacht. He once took us all a cruise in it. I -enjoyed it immensely, but the others did not. I do not understand how -it is that some people are ill at sea; it seems so unnatural. Mamma -always takes a private cabin, and is down in it before the boat -starts, even when she is only crossing to Calais. - -He is passionately in love with Audrey. I know it as a fact, because -once he as good as told me so. But Audrey is a most difficult girl. -She is imaginative if you like. I believe that she spends her time -imagining herself the wife of a clever man, though what is her idea of -cleverness is more than I can say. Several men, who are allowed to be -not only clever in their own estimation, have asked her to marry, but -she has invariably said no. Physically, she is disgracefully lazy, and -loves to languish, but, mentally, she is sharp as a razor. No matter -how clever the man may be who gets her, he will find that she is, at -least, his match, and that he could not have had anyone more certain -to help him in making his mark in the world. And she is so lovely, and -in the very depths of her, deliciously sweet. - -All the same, although they knew quite well what those two boys felt -for them, and their own charms had been proved to be nearly -irresistible over and over again, if they could only have guessed what -had happened to me, neither Audrey nor Doris would have been quite -easy in their minds as I descended the stairs with my most stately -air--which was not saying much, for all the while I was longing to -dance right down them--to welcome the approaching callers. - -Directly I was in the drawing-room something tickled me again, so that -I burst out laughing, and had to put up my hand to hide my blushes. -What could it be that was about to happen? And at that moment there -came a rat-tat-tat at the hall-door, and, presently, Jane was ushering -in the visitors. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - MISS NORAH RECEIVES TWO GENTLEMEN - -Mr Purchase came first, with Mr Carter close on his heels. I stood -about the centre of the room, as prim as you please, just wondering. -Each of them had some flowers in his hand, Mr Purchase red roses, and -Mr Carter pink. Somehow those young men scarcely ever came to the -house without bringing roses. No matter what the season, you might be -almost positive that they would have, at any rate, half-a-dozen -rosebuds. In their time Doris and Audrey must have had enough flowers -to make a good-sized haystack. No one ever brings me any. - -They came into the room with a sort of look of expectation on their -faces. When they perceived me they gave a look round, and when they -saw I was alone their expression changed entirely. It was comical. A -friendly, free and easy smile took its place. - -“Hullo, Norah!” exclaimed Mr Purchase. “Nobody here?” - -It was not a very civil way of greeting one; but I knew that it was -not intended to bear quite the construction which might be put on it. -Both boys had a way of addressing me as Norah, especially when I was -alone with them, though they always dignify the others with the prefix -“Miss.” I observed that most men, when they condescended to notice me -at all, were more than a trifle unceremonious in their fashion of -speech. Often I did not altogether like it. It was not pleasant to -hear a man speak to your sister as if she were a duchess, and then to -you as if you were a mixture of a cousin and a housemaid. But somehow -from these two I did not mind it so much as from others. It was, -perhaps, because they always meant to be friendly, and were never -actually rude. - -However, I suppose that just then I was feeling a little superior, so -I put my nose up in the air, and was nasty. - -“I am sorry that there is no one here--at least, no one of the -slightest consequence.” - -I fancy that both my words and my manner took them both aback. I -believe that Mr Purchase nearly started. - -“I say, it isn’t fair to trip up a chap like that. I’m sure----” - -Of what he was sure I shall probably never know, because when he had -got as far as that, for the first time he really looked at me. When he -did he did not exactly start. But his expression changed quite as -suddenly as it had done before, and in a more surprising manner. I -never saw such a look upon a person’s face. And not the least curious -part of it was that I was conscious that a precisely similar change -had taken place in Mr Carter’s countenance. - -They are neither of them bad-looking, only Mr Carter is brown, and Mr -Purchase black; and I am inclined to think that a dark, intellectual -face mirrors its owner’s emotions in an almost uncanny degree, -although, when I began to grasp the details of Mr Carter’s -physiognomy, I was not sure that your brown-haired people are very far -behind. The amazement and delight which had all at once come into Mr -Carter’s blue eyes was positively bewildering. He was a little behind -his friend, and I suspect him of having had no desire to come to the -front while I was the only person there, yet, all in an instant he had -passed him, and planted himself in front of me. - -“Miss Norah, here are some flowers.” - -He held out the pink roses with an air which set me all of a flutter. - -“I see there are. You always bring such pretty roses. Audrey is very -lucky.” - -“They are for you.” - -“For me?” - -Before he could answer, Mr Purchase was at his side, with his flowers -extended. - -“May I hope, Miss Norah, that you will do me the honour to accept -mine. They are not so pretty, perhaps, as others, and are far from -being worthy your acceptance, yet I hope that, of your kindness, you -will not refuse.” - -I had never had such a speech addressed to me in all my life by -anyone; and now that it should come from Jack Purchase, of all people -in the world. Small wonder that for the moment the only thing I was -fit for was to gasp. I looked from one to the other like a sort of -gaping idiot, and I certainly had abundant excuse for looking nothing -better. There, within six inches of me on one side was Basil Carter, -holding out the pink roses which, I was convinced, he had brought for -Audrey; and within five-and-a-half inches of me on the other side was -Mr Purchase, protruding, in a most suggestive style, the red roses I -was perfectly sure he had brought for Doris. - -“It isn’t fair of you to laugh at me,” I managed to get out at last. - -“Laugh!” cried Mr Carter, with an air of the most innocent surprise. -“How laugh? I hope you do not think that I am laughing at you? I -should not dare.” - -Should not dare! That was awfully good, considering how he had laughed -at me times without number, as he knew as well as I did. - -“I don’t know what you call it then, pretending to offer me those -flowers.” - -“Pretending! Miss Norah, I beg you will not call it pretence, when it -is my earnest hope that you will receive them from my hands.” - -“You know perfectly well that you brought them for Audrey.” - -Before he could speak Mr Purchase spoke for him. - -“My dear Basil, Miss Norah is quite correct; you yourself confided to -me that they were designed for Miss Audrey. If, however, Miss Norah, -you will deign to accept these red roses they will have reached their -proper destination.” - -“It isn’t fair of you, Mr Purchase; as if I didn’t know that they were -meant for Doris.” - -This time it was Mr Carter who interposed. - -“That certainly is the case, my dear Jack. You are yourself aware that -at your request I this morning ordered some red roses for Miss Doris -O’Brady, and that these are they.” - -“A man is at liberty to change his mind.” - -“Under certain circumstances.” - -“A fact of which I avail myself to beg your acceptance of these roses, -Miss Norah.” - -“I would entreat Miss Norah to extend her condescension to these poor -buds of mine.” - -“My dear Basil, you are merely imitative.” - -“The imitation comes from you. It was I who first besought Miss Norah -to take pity on my poor roses.” - -“Really, Basil, you must excuse me, but you force me to point out once -more--as Miss Norah has done already--that you brought those flowers -for Miss Audrey. It’s no use pretending that you didn’t.” - -“I pretend nothing; let me advise you also to avoid pretence. Is there -any valid reason why we should not join in requesting Miss Norah’s -acceptance of both our little nosegays?” - -“Not a bad idea, if Miss Norah will only so far honour us.” - -“Not if I know it; I haven’t quite lost my senses, even if you have.” - -They seemed startled, even hurt. Mr Purchase, in particular, shivered -almost as if I had struck him. - -“Do you think that I wish to get into trouble by accepting other -people’s property?” - -“You scarcely state the case correctly, Miss Norah, if you will -forgive my saying so. Up to the present moment the nosegays are our -property--ours.” - -“Then, so far as I am concerned, they will continue to remain your -property--and, in any case, I should decline to accept what was -originally intended for another.” - -“Then all that remains for me is to throw my poor flowers out of the -window.” - -“The fireplace is good enough for mine.” - -Off strode Mr Purchase towards the window and Mr Carter towards the -fireplace. I stopped them. - -“How can you be so ridiculous?” - -“It is to avoid being made ridiculous that I propose to deposit them -in the gutter. If you will not deign to overlook their too obvious -unworthiness, then let them suffer the extremity of shame, and be the -sharers of my humiliation.” - -“I want nothing which you despise, so here go my rosebuds into the -grate.” - -Off they strode again; again I stopped them. - -“Rather than that you should behave in that foolish and wicked -way--treating those lovely flowers so cruelly--I will take both your -nosegays. Though, mind you, if you don’t understand, I do--my doing so -is the height of absurdity.” - -Before I had finished speaking both of them came rushing at me, and -there was I standing with Doris’ red roses in my right hand and -Audrey’s pink in my left. I scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry, the -situation was so surprising. What those two girls would say when they -appeared upon the scene--as I momentarily expected that they would -do--I did not even dare to think. And those two boys allowed me no -chance to collect my thoughts, and try to see my way out of the muddle -into which they were getting me. They kept on chattering, one against -the other, and making the muddle worse with every word they uttered. - -Mr Purchase began, speaking with an absurdly cock-a-doodle air, as if -I had done him the greatest possible favour by consenting to hold -Doris’ flowers for a moment or so, for that was really as far as I -intended my acquiescence to go. - -“Now, Miss Norah, that you have made me supremely happy by accepting -my now rich roses----” - -“And mine,” interposed Mr Carter. - -“And yours--really, we are not likely to forget it, my dear Basil. -Would you allow me to speak a few words without interruption? I should -thank you so much if you would. This morning, Miss Norah, I took a box -for this evening’s performance at the Gaiety Theatre----” - -Again there came an interruption from Mr Carter. - -“When you say that you took a box I presume you mean that you went -through the mechanical operation of having it booked in your name. I -paid for half of it.” - -“My dear Basil, once more you are interrupting me. You appear to be -incapable of allowing me to conclude a sentence. If you only would, -you would find that I should explain everything to your most perfect -satisfaction. Miss Norah, as Basil puts it, we took a box, and I shall -be only too delighted if you will share my half of it.” - -“I hope, Miss Norah, that you will share mine.” - -“Basil, you are really trying. I invite Miss Norah, and before she has -an opportunity of saying Yes or No, you cap my invitation with one of -your own.” - -“I presume, my dear fellow, that I am at liberty to invite whom I -please. It was only owing to the accident of your having the glibbest -tongue that my invitation did not come first.” - -“Come, Basil, you are behaving like a schoolboy. I tell you what we’ll -do--I’ll purchase your share of the box.” - -“I decline to sell.” - -“Then I will get another for myself--I imagine that another is to be -had--and that I trust, Miss Norah, you will do me the honour of -sharing with me.” - -“I hope, Miss Norah, that you will not be so cruel. I beg that you -will honour mine.” - -They were beginning to look at each other in a way which made me -almost apprehensive. The trouble was, that I rather wanted to go to -the Gaiety. I hardly ever get a chance of going to a theatre; the -others are always going. A piece was there just then to which all the -world was crowding, and, for once in a way, I was more than willing to -go with the crowd. That made the invitation rather tempting. But, -under the circumstances, I was hardly goose enough to own it. Instead -I endeavoured to induce them to conduct themselves like reasonable -beings, which, until then, I had always supposed they were. - -“Why are you two behaving this afternoon in such an excessively -ridiculous manner? First you ask me to make two shares of myself in -one box, and then to divide myself between two boxes. I don’t quite -see how you can reasonably expect me to do either. I am not a -divisible quantity.” - -They both began at me again. - -“You entirely misunderstand me, Miss Norah. So far from wishing you to -divide yourself, I am piteously anxious that you should only honour my -box.” - -“Since Jack talks of taking another box, so far from dividing -yourself--which the powers forbid!--all you have to do is to share -with me the whole of mine.” - -I held up the two nosegays--to calm them, if I could. - -“One moment--if you’ll be so very kind. I should like you two to offer -some at least plausible explanation of the extraordinary fashion in -which you are treating me this afternoon. And, in the first place, I -would call your attention to two or three simple questions. Have you -ever hinted at giving me even the shadow of a shade of a flower? You -know very well that no such idea has ever entered your heads. Why, -then, do you all at once insist on thrusting on me the roses which you -brought for Audrey and Doris, for whom you have been in the habit of -bringing bushels of flowers? Have either of you ever even dimly -suggested taking me to a theatre? You are aware that no such notion -has ever entered your wildest dreams. Why, then, are you almost -quarrelling in your apparent endeavours to compel me to occupy a box -which you know as well as I do was intended for my two sisters? I -happen to be cognisant of the fact that you as good as promised to -take them to the Gaiety, and I have little doubt that you have caused -them to anticipate the fulfilment of your promise this very evening. -Can you for one moment suppose that I shall consent to take the places -which they are expecting to fill? I should be sorry to be forced to -think that you are not the sort of persons I had taken you to be. I -have not a lofty opinion of the generality of men, for reasons; but I -had believed you to be a little above the average.” - -Instead of showing the least sign of being ashamed of themselves, they -commenced to accuse each other in the most brazen manner. Mr Carter -commenced. - -“What you say, Miss Norah, is correct--as it always is. You know, -Jack, that only this morning you told me that you were going to ask -Miss Doris to share your half of the box; it was for that especial -purpose you took it.” - -“Did you not give me an assurance that you proposed to ask Miss Audrey -to go with you?” - -“My dear Jack, you informed me as far back as yesterday that you had -as good as invited Miss Doris to accompany you, and that she had -practically consented.” - -“My memory is not at fault, my good fellow. I perfectly well remember -that three days ago you remarked to me that you had mentioned the -Gaiety Theatre to Miss Audrey; that she had expressed a wish to go -there, and that, to all intents and purposes, you had undertaken to -take her. After that you will yourself admit that, in common decency, -there is nothing more to be said.” - -“Come, Jack, I don’t want to chop phrases with you. You know I hate -that kind of thing.” - -“Not more than I do.” - -“Then, if that’s the case, I’ll make a proposition, the perfect -fairness of which must commend it to you. Let me have five minutes’ -private and uninterrupted conversation with Miss Norah--I am -convinced, Miss Norah, that in less time than that I shall succeed in -making clear to you a good deal that at present seems dark!--and after -that you can have ten minutes’ talk all to yourself.” - -“I accept your proposition--with one proviso; that you let me have the -first five minutes; then, afterwards, you can have twenty.” - -“What kind of a way to treat a friend do you call this, Jack? You -persist in taking the words out of my mouth, and adopting them as your -own.” - -“Basil, I must beg of you that you will not talk nonsense.” - -“Nonsense! Really, Jack, that’s good, as coming from you! I talk -nonsense! I don’t wish to enter into argument--least of all with you; -but this is too much.” - -“Listen to me!” - -Considering that Mr Carter’s face was so very close to Mr Purchase’s, -and that he was not speaking in the gentlest tone of voice, one could -hardly see how he could help but listen. Their demeanour was marked by -so much--I will call it, eagerness--that I was seriously beginning to -inquire of myself if the temperature of the room was not getting a -trifle warm. What was the exciting cause I was at a loss to determine; -yet it did seem incredible that such lifelong friends should wrangle -about nothing. If the cause of the heat was me--which seemed more -incredible still--I could only declare that I was conscious of no sane -reason why it should be. - -I was almost on the point of inquiring if either of them suffered from -intermittent attacks of softening of the brain, when the door opened, -and in came Audrey and Doris. I sincerely hoped that they had been -long enough in dressing. They might find that they had been just a -trifle too long. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - MEN ARE DECEIVERS EVER - -I could not but feel how nice they looked. Not for the first time, -by any means, it was a comfort to think that they were my sisters. It -is all very well to inveigh against the tremendous time a woman takes -in dressing--and I am quite willing to admit that, over and over -again, the girls have as nearly as possible driven me mad!--but if she -wants to look her best, she has to. It is just those little delicate -touches which require care and thought, and cannot be hurried over, -which complete the picture. After one is completely dressed, one can -often advantageously spend another quarter-of-an-hour or twenty -minutes in artistic tittivation; and sometimes the result is worth it. - -When I began to take in the details of Audrey and Doris, I realised -that it had been worth it in their case. They were just exquisite; a -delight to the eye, a refreshment to the senses; perfect pictures, of -a kind I never could be. I was laughingly conscious of the absurdity -of my posing as a rival to them. My impulse was to hurry to them, -presenting the two nosegays, explaining that I had been merely acting -as custodian until they came. I fully expected that there would be an -instant end to those two men’s preposterous behaviour, so far as I was -concerned, taking it for granted that they would promptly rush back to -their allegiance, leaving me with the recollection of the lop-sided -joke we three had had together. - -However, to my amazement, and almost to my horror, nothing of the kind -took place. Instead, Mr Purchase and Mr Carter continued their -nonsensical, half-quarrelsome argument, totally ignoring Audrey and -Doris, who remained a few paces inside the door, a growing suggestion -of astonishment upon their faces. Presently Audrey spoke. - -“I hope that we have not kept you waiting. How are you, Mr Carter?” - -Mr Carter turned, nodded, and addressed her from where he stood. Cold -shivers went up and down my back. He had never treated me quite so -free-and-easily as that. - -“Oh, thank you, Miss Audrey. I’m going strong, thank you. I hope you -are, too.” - -Without another word, he resumed his squabble with his friend. - -The two girls looked at each other. Then Doris spoke. - -“Good afternoon, Mr Purchase. I hope that you have been pleasantly -engaged, and have not missed me.” - -Mr Purchase’s answer must have been distinctly unexpected. He just -nodded, as Basil Carter had done, and observed, in the most offhanded -manner: - -“Not at all, Miss Doris--not in the very least. We couldn’t have been -better employed, thank you very much.” - -He returned to Mr Carter, placing the forefinger of his right hand on -the palm of his left. - -“The point is this, I have now ceded to you my share of the box, -leaving you perfect freedom to carry out your original plan, as of -course you will do.” - -“Nothing of the kind. That’s not the point, here is the point in a -nutshell.” - -At it they went, in the old delightful way. The two girls had seated -themselves on a settee which was between the windows. They looked -sweet, but a remark which Doris made to me suggested that that was not -exactly how they were feeling. - -“What are you doing with those flowers, Norah? You look silly with a -bunch in each hand. Somehow flowers and you never do go well together, -they look incongruous.” - -The assault was so gratuitous that it ruffled my plumes. I was just on -the point of handing them the flowers, with a word of explanation to -smooth things out; because those two boys had been abominably rude, -and they were not accustomed to rudeness from men. All experiences of -that kind had come my way. The fact of the sensation being an entirely -novel one scarcely made it more agreeable, especially since they had -every reason to suppose that the pair were head over ears in love with -them. My inclination was towards sympathy--true sisterly -sympathy--because I had been treated badly myself, and I knew what it -felt like. But when Doris spoke to me like that, sympathetic feelings -retreated into the background. I sank down on the ottoman; put first -one nosegay to my nose, and then the other; and smiled a little. - -“Mr Carter and Mr Purchase have brought me these lovely roses. So -sweet of them, really!” - -I was conscious that the girls cast a curious, and even startled -glance in my direction. Doris’ voice was a little sharp. - -“Do you mean to say that those roses were given you by Mr Purchase?” - -“And Mr Carter. They would insist upon my not refusing. Wasn’t it nice -of them?” - -As I glanced towards Doris, with my very sweetest smile, she looked -what I call scratchy. Audrey addressed Basil Carter. - -“So, Mr Carter, you have been giving Norah roses?” - -“Yes, yes; poor ones, unworthy the recipient. Had I known the honour -which was in store for them I would have procured better.” - -“That is very kind of you. They look very like the roses you have -sometimes given me.” - -“They are the same--yes--exactly.” - -The implication his words suggested,--that while the roses were not -good enough for me they were for Audrey,--possibly escaped his -attention. I doubt if it did hers. She looked up at him with notes of -interrogation in her eyes, as if she were asking what he meant. He -added, as if by an afterthought: - -“By the way, Miss Audrey, there’s a matter on which I should like to -ask your advice. I have a box for the Gaiety to-night.” - -“You told me that you meant to get one.” - -Her words seemed to take him slightly aback. - -“Yes; I have some recollection of the kind. I believe I did.” - -“Did you have much difficulty?” - -“No, no; none to speak of.” - -Doris questioned Mr Purchase. - -“And haven’t you a share in Mr Carter’s box, or has he it all to -himself?” - -“He has it all to himself. I had half, but I have relinquished it.” - -Doris raised her eyebrows. - -“You have relinquished it?” - -“You see, he proposes to ask Miss Audrey to join him, and you.” - -“And me? Mr Carter proposes to ask me?” - -Doris’ eyebrows went a little higher. Mr Purchase hurried on, as if he -deemed hurry advisable. - -“So I hope to be able to get another box for myself, as I am extremely -anxious to ask Miss Norah to share it with me.” - -“You are anxious--to ask Norah to share it with you?” - -Doris’ face was a study. I could have laughed out loud, although, even -while I sat, I was shivering in my shoes. His audacity was beyond -anything--at least I thought so, until Mr Carter tried his hand. - -“Excuse me, Miss Audrey, but that is not a correct statement of the -case. It is you, Miss Doris, that Jack proposes to ask, in the hope, -Miss Audrey, that you will join them. I, on the other hand, have -already asked Miss Norah to favour my box with the honour of her -presence.” - -Mr Purchase burst out almost before Mr Carter had finished. - -“Basil, how can you say such things? Really, you are beyond anything. -You are perfectly well aware that the original invitation to Miss -Norah came from me. Now, is that not the fact? Yes or no? Answer me.” - -“Don’t be silly, Jack; I invited Miss Norah.” - -“After I had done so.” - -“Pooh! a question of a moment’s superior glibness.” - -Audrey stood up. - -“Is this a little comedy which has been arranged between you two.” - -“That, Miss Audrey, is precisely the question I have put to Jack. I -certainly have had no hand in it.” - -“But it seems to me you have. You will excuse my putting it to you -bluntly, Mr Carter; but did I not understand you to say that if you -succeeded in getting a box for the Gaiety you would offer me a seat in -it?” - -Basil Carter seeming momentarily tongue-tied, his friend answered for -him. - -“Of course he did, Miss Audrey; he told me so himself. He was full of -his anticipations of enjoyment in your society.” - -Doris put her question to Mr Purchase. - -“And were you not good enough to hint at my finding room in it with -you? I rather fancied that you made some proposition of the kind, or, -was it only fancy?” - -It was Mr Carter’s turn to reply. - -“Not at all! not in the least! I assure you, Miss Doris, that there is -not a grain of fancy about it. Jack informed me, with his own lips, -that he had made an arrangement of the kind with you, and expressed -his gratification at having done so; and it was with a view of -carrying out that arrangement that the box was procured. About that -there cannot be the faintest shadow of a doubt.” - -There was an instant’s pause. Neither of the men was looking exactly -comfortable. I was wondering what excuse I could find to get outside -the room, feeling incapable of marching out without one. Doris was -lying back in a corner of the settee, picking at the folds in her -dress, and smiling apparently at her own thoughts. While Audrey was -standing close to Mr Carter, regarding him with something like a look -of puzzlement in her beautiful eyes. - -“Then are we to understand that the arrangement still holds good?” - -Mr Carter shifted from one foot to the other. - -“The arrangement, Miss Audrey?” - -“As to the box. Am I to be your guest in it, as you promised?” - -There was a tone in Audrey’s voice which I had never heard in it -before--almost of appeal. I knew that she was observing his face with -growing surprise, wondering at his obvious constraint. He was -generally the readiest of men; and, with all his passionate devotion -to her, never at a loss to express, in the most graceful terms, his -eagerness to meet her smallest wishes. This blundering creature was -entirely new to her. Something very near to pity came into her face as -she continued to regard him. - -“What is the matter with you, Mr Carter? You scarcely seem to be -yourself this afternoon.” - -Again a second’s pause. Then he lifted his head and looked at her. - -“I am not myself, Miss Audrey, not in the sense that you have known -me.” - -He turned and looked towards me. As he did so, he came and stood close -to where I was sitting. - -“I must beg you to allow me to withdraw from the arrangement which -existed between us, so far as it referred to me. I believe that Miss -Norah but seldom attends a theatrical performance. She has never -attended one with me. If she will grant me the felicity of -accompanying her to one to-night, she will confer on me an obligation -of which I shall ever continue conscious.” - -There was silence after that. I was tingling from head to foot. I -almost felt that I should like to box his ears. I have little doubt -that Audrey would not have been indisposed to box both his and mine. A -look which was akin to terror came into her eyes; she went white, as -if something had frightened her. Doris laughed, not nicely, or -naturally either. - -“So, Mr Purchase, since Mr Carter throws us over, and what he says is -quite correct, poor Norah seldom does attend a theatre--so few people -care to attend one with her--Audrey and I will have to depend on you; -you will have to find seats for both of us.” - -The moment she had spoken I knew that Mr Purchase was going to make -himself as objectionable as his friend had done, and I believe that -Doris half suspected it too. There is a sting in that tongue of hers -which is always ready to strike at someone the instant she even -imagines that something unpleasant is going to happen to her. He drew -himself up with that superior air which I have noticed that some men -do cultivate when they know that they are about to behave badly. - -“I trust, Miss Doris, that an erroneous interpretation will not be -placed upon my words; but you must permit me to point out that I have -already asked Miss Norah to share my box.” - -Doris looked up at him with a sweetly acid smile which I should have -thought would almost have made him tremble. No man in this world had -ever thrown her over before, of that I am convinced. In matters of -that sort, hitherto, all the bad conduct had come from her. - -“Yet it would be quite easy to place an erroneous interpretation upon -your words and your behaviour too, would it not, Mr Purchase, since -you have already offered a seat in your box to me?” - -“Not in set terms, Miss Doris.” - -“No? I don’t quite know what you mean by set terms. On certain points -you appear to have ideas of your own. One is thankful to be able to -think that they are your own. Are we to take it that Norah proposes to -divide herself into halves, and to share both your boxes?” - -“Certainly not, Miss Doris. At present Mr Purchase hasn’t even got a -box to share.” - -This, of course, was Mr Carter. - -“But I soon shall have. Miss Norah, I need hardly say, will occupy my -box only.” - -“Don’t talk nonsense, Jack. Before you invite a lady to share your -box, I should make sure of having a box to which to invite her. I -doubt if you’ll get one. My impression is that the house is sold right -out.” - -“I think not. I fancy that I know where to get a box if I want one -badly. Is it impossible to induce you to see what a peculiar position -you are taking up, Basil? Is it necessary to once more point out to -you that the original invitation to Miss Norah came from me, and that -in that matter you are really merely an interloper?” - -“What rubbish that is, Jack.” - -Audrey interposed, deftly: - -“There does seem to be a good deal of rubbish about, doesn’t there? -Supposing we take its existence for granted. My dear Norah, you must -let me congratulate you on the flattering eagerness with which these -gentlemen desire your presence in their two boxes. It is rather an -unusual experience for you, is it not? And all the pleasanter on that -account. What pretty roses these are; they are just like some which Mr -Carter has occasionally given me.” - -Seating herself by my side Audrey took the pink roses from between my -fingers. Mr Purchase struck what I can only describe as an attitude. - -“The position which Carter has taken up justifies me in giving you my -personal assurance that those roses were intended for you, Miss -Audrey.” - -Mr Carter gave him back as good as he sent; I do not care if that is a -vulgar way of putting it, it is a correct one. - -“And were not those red roses bought by you for Miss Doris, Purchase? -You know they were.” - -Audrey went sweetly on. - -“You are lucky, Norah. You not only get our roses, but our seats in -boxes too. What a popular child you are.” - -Doris’ voice came from the couch. - -“What I want to know is--since it appears that you do not propose to -divide yourself into two equal halves--which of these extraordinary -persons do you propose to favour with your company? They themselves -don’t seem to know, perhaps you do.” - -I was red as a boiled beetroot, and smarting all over, and I expect my -answers showed it. - -“I have not said that I would favour anybody yet. I don’t want other -people’s flowers, or other people’s seats in boxes either.” - -“Miss Norah, I entreat you----” - -“Miss Norah, I beseech you----” - -Just as those two men came rushing at me, and began to overwhelm me -with another flood of words, the door was opened again, and in came -Walter Hammond. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - MORE TREACHERY - -Walter Hammond is a truly remarkable person to associate with -Eveleen. She is rather short, even for a girl, while he is a perfect -lamp-post of a man--one of those long, lean persons who seem all -bones. As he fancies himself horsey, and will persist in dressing the -part, and wearing the tightest clothes, his extreme slimness is still -more conspicuous. He is one of those creatures who, when they are in a -room, seem to be all over the place at once. When he is sitting down -he never seems to know what to do with his legs, they really are -tremendously long; if he stretched them out at full length under an -ordinary dining-table, I should not be surprised if his toes peeped -out the other side; and when he stands up he is equally at a loss what -use to make of his hands and arms. He speaks in a rapid, jerky sort of -way--in fact, he is jerky altogether. When anyone addresses him, he -not only twists his body round with one jerk, and his head with -another, and puts his eyeglass in with one jerk, and out with a -second, but he jerks at his moustache, first with his right hand, and -then with his left, in a fashion which a slightly nervous person, who -is not used to him, must find not a little disconcerting. But I -believe he is harmless, though I don’t think he is as wise as he might -be. He appears to have the whole of the “Turf Guide,” or whatever you -call the thing, at his finger ends; and, if you will let him, will -talk about horses until you begin to pray for the hour when motor-cars -will have made them as extinct as the dodo. - -His manner of entering the room was, on that occasion, characteristic. -He was groping about for his eyeglass, which, as usual, eluded search -between the buttons of his waistcoat, and was carrying his hat, and -gloves, and stick, and a good-sized parcel, with an evident want of -certainty as to the hand they ought to be in, which it gave one the -fidgets to observe. - -Audrey greeted him with a degree of warmth which suggested that she -regarded his appearance as a welcome interlude. I know I did. I should -have regarded the advent of anyone or anything as a welcome interlude -just then, I believe even mad dogs; though, as I have never -encountered a mad dog, and never wish to, perhaps I had better not be -too sure. - -“Oh, Mr Hammond, is that you? How delightful! We want somebody to -amuse us, we are so dull. Eveleen will be charmed; she will be down in -a moment.” - -“Needn’t ask how you are, Miss Audrey; you’re always fit. And Miss -Doris too; can’t make out how you manage.” - -Doris spoke. - -“We don’t manage. We have our sufferings like other folk--sometimes -very unexpected ones they are. What have you in that great parcel? It -does seem to be in your way; won’t you leave it in the hall?” - -“Gloves! gloves! couldn’t possibly leave it in the hall. It’s a little -bet I lost to Miss Eveleen over Rocketter. The Brimstone filly was -giving him four pounds, it seemed to me that at the weights it was a -cert--dead snip. Rocketter won the Horndean Plate, the Scratchem Cup, -the Slingsbury Stakes, with the weights against him. Appeared to me -down the Lingfield straight, with such a handicap, there was only one -horse in it. I was wrong. Told Jim Smiff rode a ripping race--hung on -to Rocketter’s tail--caught him at the distance--nosed him at the -post. So Miss Eveleen wins her gloves; sure, it gives me the greatest -pleasure to pay them.” - -I am not an expert in racing slang, so, if there is anything wrong in -the way Mr Hammond’s observations are reported I am not to blame. I -only pretend to give a rudimentary impression of the general style of -his conversation. It was an extraordinary thing that when Eveleen bet -with him she nearly always won. Either he was careful to arrange it -so, or else he knew less than he supposed, and she more. Anyhow, -somehow, her horse was nearly always in front of his. A remark which -Doris made seemed to convey a hint which he might or might not have -considered flattering. - -“It must be nice to bet with you, Mr Hammond. It ensures one having a -constant gratuitous supply of little necessaries.” - -“Awfully good of you to say so, Miss Doris--really. Always delighted -to lose to a lady--especially when I’ve had a good run for my -money--yes. Tremendous rush there seems to be on the Gaiety. Had -deuce’s own business to get two stalls.” - -“For to-night?” - -“Yes. Miss Eveleen said she’d like to see the show--so been worrying -round--yes--had to worry too; but I got ’em.” - -“Eveleen is fortunate. I also should like to see the show.” - -“Very kind of you to say so--jolly flattering to the theatre -people--they ought to go up one.” - -He had been fumbling, at intervals, for his eyeglass. Now, having -dropped his hat, stick, and gloves, and only retaining his clutch on -his parcel, he at last succeeded in jerking his glass into a -stationary position in front of his eye. He turned towards me. As he -did so he beamed all over, stood up, and advanced towards me with what -he possibly intended for a seraphic smile, but which did not strike me -in that light at all. - -“’Pon my word, Miss Norah, fancy you sitting there all the time and my -not noticing you--only fancy. How very strange! How are you? I needn’t -ask; you always are so fit; how do you manage? I never saw you looking -fitter than you are looking just now--does one’s eyesight good to look -at you. Cannot understand how I came to overlook you--so singular.” - -The idea of that man talking to me like that--after the way he had -treated me--put me all on end, as I let him see. - -“It is not at all singular. On the contrary, you have always treated -me in exactly the same manner. I have sat in the same room with you -for hours and hours, and you have paid no more attention to me than if -I was an unnecessary piece of furniture. I doubt if you have ever -spoken twenty consecutive words to me in your life.” - -The wretch was not at all abashed. That afternoon everybody seemed to -be incapable of shame--particularly those who ought to have been most -keenly alive to it. It is a disagreeable world. Talk about -brazen-faced, impudent deceitfulness! I believe that all men are -capable of anything; I am convinced they are. - -That Hammond creature went blundering on as calmly and easily as if I -had not said what ought to have made him writhe. - -“Can only assure you that if I haven’t spoken twenty consecutive words -to you, I’ll make up for it now--only like to have the chance. Feel I -could talk to you for ever--sure I could. Like gloves? Sure to. All -girls like gloves--get through lots of them. Here’s a box full; find -them rather a decent sort; hope you’ll do me the honour of wearing -them.” - -He held out to me the parcel of gloves which he had just been -announcing, in the presence of us all, that he had bought to pay the -debt which he had lost to Eveleen. That did freeze me. I sat up as -straight as a beanpole. - -“I don’t understand you, Mr Hammond.” - -But I did not succeed in freezing him. He indulged in an affable -smile, which made him seem all teeth and mouth. - -“Quite simple. Hope you’ll permit me to have the pleasure of -presenting you with a box of gloves; you’ll find them rippers, got -them from a really decent fellow; makes specially for me--sixes.” - -“I take sevens.” - -“Do you? Glad to hear it. Like a girl to have a good-sized hand. Hate -your little namby things, better suited to a doll than to the end of a -woman’s arm.” A nice observation to make, considering that both Audrey -and Doris were present, and that they are notorious for their tiny -hands. But Mr Hammond went unconcernedly on. “If you want a more -sensible size you can easily change them, or I will for you. I’ve got -a largish hand myself.” - -He had. He held out in front of me, with an air of simpering -satisfaction, the very largest hand I had ever seen. I wondered what -acreage of ground a hand like that might represent. But I did not -quite say so. - -“I understood you to say that those gloves were to settle a bet which -you had lost to Eveleen.” - -“That’s all right. You take these--I’ll soon get her some -others--don’t you worry about Miss Eveleen.” - -“I would rather not take them, thank you.” - -“Perhaps you’re right; may as well get a decent size straight away--a -larger box--better quality. Got two stalls for the Gaiety to-night; -hope you’ll do me the pleasure of occupying one.” - -“Do I understand that you are offering me Eveleen’s stall?” - -“Much rather you came, if it’s all the same to you. Awfully jolly if -you would.” - -“I would rather not come, thank you, Mr Hammond.” - -Basil Carter came forward. I was really glad of his interference, -though I would rather he had been a little more sensible. - -“Miss Norah will certainly not come with you, Hammond. And, in order -that you may not annoy her with your importunities, perhaps it would -be as well that I should tell you at once that to-night, at the Gaiety -Theatre, Miss Norah will share my box.” - -At once Mr Purchase contradicted him. - -“Do you wish to quarrel with me, Basil? Because, if not, I must ask -you to refrain from persisting in such statements. Already I have -borne them nearly as long as I can. Permit me to inform you, Hammond, -that it is my box which will be honoured by Miss Norah’s presence.” - -“You haven’t the faintest ground for such an assertion. To begin with, -you haven’t a box.” - -“I shall have one. And I have this ground, Basil, that the original -invitation to Miss Norah came from me.” - -“Fiddle-dee-dee!” - -Mr Carter snapped his fingers; and they were at it again. Mr Hammond -took advantage of their wrangling to press what he appeared to have -the audacity to regard as his claims. - -“As these gentlemen don’t seem to be able to agree as to whose guest -you are going to be, Miss Norah, I vote that you settle the question -by becoming mine. It would be splendid fun! First rate! Good -stalls--bang in the middle of the second row--better than a box--it -would be awfully sporting of you, don’t you know. Say you’ll come! -Yes! Do! Be the jolly good sort you look, Miss Norah.” - -Since the moment Mr Hammond had planted himself at my side, and -commenced to conduct himself in such a peculiar manner, both Audrey -and Doris had been speechless. Possibly they felt that the singularity -of the general proceedings went beyond the capacity of words. But when -that Hammond man--who, although a friend of Eveleen’s, was, to all -intents and purposes, a stranger to me--called me “a jolly good sort” -to my very face, Audrey burst out laughing, as though the joke had -gone past bearing. - -“What is the matter with you all?” she cried. “Is this a conspiracy -between you three, or have you suddenly gone mad? What is it in Norah -that has made her, all at once, such an irresistible object of -attention?” - -While she was still speaking Eveleen came in. She addressed herself to -her. - -“So, Eveleen, here you are at last; and it’s quite time you were here. -Perhaps you will be able to supply the key to the riddle. Mr Carter -and Mr Purchase have given Norah our roses and our seats at the -theatre; and now Mr Hammond is endeavouring to induce her to accept -your gloves and your stall. If there is a rational explanation of -these gentlemen’s behaviour, do, dear, lose no time in finding it.” - -Eveleen came forward with a smile, and that little alert air which -seems to suggest that there must be quicksilver in her veins. - -“What’s the joke? Don’t keep me out of it. How do, Walter?” Their -acquaintance had got to the Christian-name stage. Eveleen is a little -familiar with her young men; though she encourages them to behave only -with the strictest decorum. “You’re looking rather chippy; have you -been having too many skittles since I saw you?” - -She can be slangy; particularly when she thinks that sort of thing is -sympathetic. I fancy she endeavours to adapt the style of her -conversation to her company. I am sure that when she has been talking -to a parson her language has seemed to reek of the odour of sanctity. - -I think she expected him to spring to his feet at sight of her, and -burst into a fit of jerky enthusiasm. If she did she was disappointed. -He just raised himself an inch or two, and, in an extremely -perfunctory fashion, extended to her the extreme tips of his fingers. - -“Feeling as fit as a fiddler. Sorry you don’t think I look it.” He -turned to me. “Don’t you think I’m looking pretty fit, Miss Norah?” - -A slight shade of surprise flitted across her features, as it had done -across Doris’ face, and Audrey’s. - -“Have you brought me my gloves?” - -“Did bring them--rather wanted Miss Norah to have them--seems she -takes a decent size--none of your little dollie flippers; so as -they’ll fit you, you may as well have them. Here you are. Now we’re -straight.” - -He thrust the parcel into her hands; she taking it with the expression -of surprise growing on her countenance. - -“And have you got the stall you promised me?” - -He inserted his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, and began to -shake himself in the manner which recalled a dog which has just come -out of the water. Only he did it in such a very jerky way that one -almost expected to hear his joints all cracking. - -“Got a stall--had dreadful bother to get one--seems as if everyone -wants to go to the place at the same time. If you don’t mind--and it -don’t make any difference to you--’pon my word don’t see why it -should--had rather Miss Norah went with me.” - -“I don’t understand you.” - -“I say that unless it upsets you in any way--and I don’t see how it -can--sure to find a chap who’ll be only too glad to place a stall at -your disposal--lots of chaps about--I’d rather Miss Norah went with -me--much rather--really; in fact I’ve asked her.” - -She looked at him in a way which I should have thought would have made -even such a hardened sinner, as he seemed to be, wince. But he failed -to turn a hair. - -“Still, I don’t quite understand. Do you mean, Walter, that you have -offered my stall to Norah--to my sister Norah?” - -“Yes--that’s it--exactly what I do mean. It’s clear enough, don’t you -know. Don’t see where the difficulty comes in, ’pon my word. Only I -don’t quite see why you should call it _your_ stall, really! I paid -for it.” - -“You paid for it? I see. And did you offer my gloves--these gloves, to -Norah also?” - -“That’s all right. I wanted her to have them; but as she has a really -decent sort of hand, they’re miles too small for her, so as I know -they’ll be all right for you, you may as well have them. Don’t you -worry about that a little bit.” - -She looked about her with an air of bewilderment as if seeking an -explanation from someone, somewhere. Her face had quite altered during -the few moments she had been in the room. Even her voice had changed, -it seemed to have grown husky. I knew that she was really fond of Mr -Hammond. He had been in the habit of prostrating himself in the dust -at her feet. It must have been a dreadful wrench to have been spoken -to by him like that. - -“I suppose that there is a joke somewhere; but I’m so dull that I -don’t see where. Norah, has Mr Hammond really done as he says? What -have you been doing?” - -She favoured me with an accusatory glance, as if I had been guilty of -the blackest crimes. Audrey came to my rescue. - -“To do her justice, so far as I have seen, Norah has been doing -nothing. Norah has been sitting mumchance; scarcely saying boo! to a -goose, as if she were on prickles. The men appear to have done all the -doing--unless they have been indulging in an elaborate practical joke, -at her expense, and ours, which they have already carried too far to -be in the best of taste. It may be funny, in its way, which is not a -pretty one.” - -Eveleen was continuing to glare at me, as if she would have liked her -eyes to have scorched my face. - -“Are you going with Mr Hammond?” - -Mr Carter took upon himself to answer. - -“No, Miss Eveleen; Miss Norah is not going with Mr Hammond. Miss Norah -is going with me.” - -Eveleen looked up at him. - -“With you?” - -Before he could reply, Mr Purchase interposed: - -“Again adventuring, Basil, upon forbidden ground, and, in so doing, -conveying a totally wrong impression. Miss Eveleen, Miss Norah will be -my guest.” - -“Jack, do you wish to tempt me to lose my temper?” - -“My dear Basil, let me beg you to remember.” - -Mr Hammond reseated himself at my side. - -“Since these two chaps do nothing but call each other names!”--they -had not called each other a single name up to then; it was only that -Mr Hammond has his own way of expressing himself--“supposing we fix it -quietly between ourselves. As they can’t hit it off who you’re to go -with, don’t you go with either of them--you go with me. That’ll suit -me to a T!--down to the ground, Miss Norah! We shan’t quarrel; you can -bet your hat on that, and your boots on top of it. We’ll have the best -time, Miss Norah, if you’ll take my word for it, that anyone ever did -have yet. I’ll do you a treat, on my honour! And if you’ll only say -yes, you’ll come, you’ll make me pretty nearly as happy as if I’d won -the Derby on my very own horse--you can lay your money on it all the -while.” - -Mr Carter touched him on the shoulder. - -“Surely, Hammond, it cannot be necessary to again ask you to refrain -from troubling Miss Norah, who, this evening, will be my guest!” - -“But that’s just the point, my dear chap! Will she? Purchase says -not.” - -“I do say not. And that for the sufficient reason that she will be -mine. And that is also a reason, Hammond, why you should not continue -your persecution of Miss Norah.” - -“There you are--one says one thing, t’other says t’other. What I want -to know is, who’s who? which is which? what’s what? Straight -tip!--fight it out between yourselves. Leave Miss Norah and I to fix -up things between ourselves! There’s a friendly hint for you!” - -“Hammond, is it possible that you intend to be impertinent?” - -“My dear boy, there isn’t a grain of impertinence in the whole of my -constitution, honest Injun! All I ask is--talk sense.” - -“The sense of the matter is that Miss Norah will be my guest.” - -“Jack, that’s utter nonsense!” - -“There you are! there you are! Where are you?” - -Eveleen spoke, her words coming from her lips like drops of vitriol. - -“Don’t you think, Norah, that you had better favour all three of these -gentlemen with your delightful company? It would be so nice--for them, -and for you--and it would save further complications.” She turned to -Audrey and Doris. “Has it not occurred to you two girls that we are -rather in the way?” - -Both Audrey and Doris burst out laughing. I do not know what at. There -did not seem to be much merriment in their mirth. While they were -still making those somewhat discordant sounds, Major Paul Tibbet -entered the room. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - THE COMPROMISE - -Everybody that afternoon seemed to be bringing something. We might -have been spreading broadcast an announcement that each caller was -expected to provide himself with an offering as evidence of good -faith. The moment I set eyes on Major Tibbet I perceived that he had -his. It took the shape of a brown-paper parcel of some size, and, -apparently, some weight, since he bore it in front of him, on both -arms, as if it were a baby. As he is not the kind of person one would -expect to see carry a parcel of any kind, the effect was a little -funny. - -Audrey’s and Doris’ forced laughter seemed to give him a false -impression of what was going on. He broke into what he probably -intended should be a smile of the extremest affability. - -“I come at a fortunate moment, to find you laughing! full of fun! -Nothing so delightful as the merriment of young ladies. I thoroughly -enjoy a joke, myself.” He addressed Audrey. “I have here a trifle -which I trust will not meet with the disapprobation of Mrs O’Brady.” - -“It doesn’t look as if it were a trifle.” - -“Between ourselves, it’s not--weighs twenty pounds if an -ounce--magnificent bird--pick of the market.” His voice assumed a tone -of great solemnity. “It’s a truffled turkey--prepared by my own chef, -with his own hands, after a recipe of his own. A _chef-d’œuvre_; an -unique, Miss Audrey, an unique!” - -The Major makes a god of his belly. The only things he really cares -for--besides the decoration of his ridiculous old person--are things -to eat and drink. He keeps the menus of his dinners. He can give you -the history--with all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed--of meals he -ate thirty years ago; with the names of all the dishes, detailed -accounts of how they were cooked, and realistic descriptions of how -they tasted. It gives me a feeling of having over-eaten myself to hear -him talk. - -“I have ventured, also, Miss Audrey, to command a small dinner at the -King’s to-night, which I am hopeful that Mrs O’Brady will do me the -honour of eating with me. I will tell you what I have ordered----” - -“Had you not better tell mamma that? She might like to be the first -recipient of so delicious a communication.” - -“You may be right. I think you probably are. When one considers the -matter broadly, one perceives that that would only be just to Mrs -O’Brady. I will tell you afterwards, Miss Audrey; only a pleasure -postponed, that’s all. This parcel is a trifle heavy; I think, with -your permission, I should like to----” - -As he began to look about for a spot on which to deposit his -twenty-pound turkey, his eyes travelled in my direction. When they -reached me, he started. He came a step nearer, as if, at that -distance, his poor, faded, old eyes were not perfectly sure that it -was I. Having made up his mind upon the point, he quite obviously -started again, coming close up to me with a sort of little canter. At -the same moment I was conscious--though the Major was not--that mamma -had entered the room, and stood just inside the door, listening and -looking on. - -“My dear Miss Norah, fancy my not noticing you before--most -extraordinary! Can’t think how it could have happened. I’m sure, I beg -ten thousand pardons. However, better late than never; you know the -old saying, my dear Miss Norah. Allow me to present you with this -truffled turkey--done by my own man. If I were to tell you, in -confidence, what I pay the fellow, you’d stare. I’ve reason to believe -that, before you put your fork into him, this bird will have cost me -five pounds. Yet I dare to assert that, by the time you have done with -him, you will agree with me that he was worth every farthing of it, -Miss Norah, every farthing.” - -“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I do not care for truffled turkey.” - -“Not care for truffled turkey! What are you saying, Miss Norah? You -can’t mean it. I suppose it’s a jest of yours--an excellent one, too. -Because, of course, it isn’t possible that anyone shouldn’t care for -truffled turkey.” - -“It is not only possible, but, in my case, it’s an actual fact. I do -not care for truffled turkey, Major Tibbet. Nor, in any case, could I -accept a gift which was intended for my mother.” - -When I said this, I saw mamma--who, with the aid of her _pince-nez_, -had been taking the liveliest interest in the Major’s remarks--give a -kind of little jump. I knew that she liked truffled turkey, and that, -indeed, on the subject of eating and drinking, generally, she and the -Major were in considerable sympathy. I suppose that, when people grow -old, they are fonder of that kind of thing than when they are young. - -That gormandising Major, in complete unconsciousness of who was -standing behind him, threw mamma’s prior claim upon his wretched bird -entirely overboard. - -“Ah, your mother, your respected mother. I do like to find young girls -considering their mothers. It’s a sweet trait--yes, it’s a very sweet -trait--in your character, Miss Norah. Still, I’ve no doubt that you -and I, between us, shall be able to manage with your mother, -afterwards--that is, if you will condescend to accept my little -offering.” - -“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I will not.” - -“Then, in that case, we’ll say no more about it, and we’ll settle it -in this way. I’ve ordered dinner at the King’s restaurant this -evening. If they carry out my instructions--and, if they don’t, -they’ll hear of it!--I think I can promise you something which shall -be worthy even of--Miss Norah; if Miss Norah will permit me to count -upon her as my guest.” - -“I thought, Major Tibbet, that the dinner also was intended for -mamma.” - -“Really, Miss Norah, really! you are unduly severe, you really are! -You should never go behind an invitation--never. When I invite you, I -invite you, and venture to anticipate a favourable reply. It would -make me so happy, Miss Norah, it really would.” - -Jack Purchase came forward. - -“Pardon me, Major Tibbet. Perhaps, Miss Norah, I had better explain. -Major Tibbet, Miss Norah will not be able to dine with you to-night, -as she is sharing my box at the Gaiety Theatre.” - -Basil Carter followed. - -“Major Tibbet, in a sense, that statement is correct--with the -solitary exception that it is my box which Miss Norah is going to -share.” - -“Now, Basil, have I again to remonstrate with you?” - -“My dear Jack, the remonstrance would more properly come from me!” - -Walter Hammond thrust in his comments, seeming to jerk out his limbs -in all directions as he spoke. - -“At it again! Nice boys, aren’t they, Miss Norah? Always in their -little nests agree! Since still they can’t make up their minds who’s -who, and what’s what, and Tibbet’s a little late with his dinner, do -say, Miss Norah, you’ll have that stall of mine. It’ll be so sporting -of you, don’t you know; and you’ll be able to nod now and then at -Purchase and Carter, as they sit glaring at each other in their -boxes.” - -Apparently mamma had arrived at the conclusion that it was time to -announce her presence. - -“What does this discussion mean? And how is it that Norah has all at -once become the centre of so much attention? Norah, what have you been -doing? How are you, gentlemen? Good-afternoon, Major.” - -Major Tibbet advanced to mamma, holding out his brown paper parcel--of -which I rather suspected he had become wearied. - -“Here you are, Mrs O’Brady! How are you? Hope you’re well. Here’s a -truffled turkey for you. Miss Norah doesn’t seem to care for it, but -I’m sure you will. Much pleasure in giving it you, I’m sure.” - -Whether mamma had equal pleasure in accepting it was not so -obvious--particularly after the remarks which she could not have -helped but hear, and the manner of presentation was, to say the least, -peculiar. Without waiting to see if mamma was ready to relieve him of -his burden, he forced it on her in such a very singular fashion that -it went crashing to the floor. He did not stop to inquire if it had -fallen on her feet, which it might easily have done, and twenty pounds -is twenty pounds when it falls upon your tightly-fitting slippers; -still less did he trouble himself to even offer to pick it up again. -The moment he had got rid of it he came bustling back to me, mumbling -an apology which was fashioned on lines which were distinctly his own. - -“Beg pardon--thought you’d got it--really! Better ring the bell, and -tell servant to take it away--thing’s so heavy, nearly broken both my -arms--couldn’t have held it another moment, really! Now, Miss Norah, -about this dinner to-night. I’ve ordered a bisque, which--I give you -my personal assurance--when you have once tasted it you will not -easily forget.” - -Again there came an interposition from Mr Purchase. - -“Miss Norah will not have an opportunity of forgetting the--article in -question, since it is apparently necessary to repeat to you that, this -evening, she is engaged to me.” - -“To me, that is.” - -This, of course, was Basil Carter. - -“I would recommend you, Major Tibbet, to understand that Purchase -speaks in a general sense only, since, in the letter, as a matter of -plain fact, Miss Norah is engaged to me.” - -“Major Tibbet, Basil, is too wise a man to discredit my positive -statement.” - -“He will be an exceedingly unwise one if he casts the faintest shadow -of a doubt on mine.” - -Then came Mr Hammond. - -“I’m the last person in the world to wish to breed dissension where -there’s disputing already, because a pretty quarrel’s too good a thing -to spoil; but I take leave to remark, Mr Carter, and Mr Purchase, and -Major Tibbet, that Miss Norah will relieve you of all your -difficulties by bestowing her society on me.” - -“Norah,” observed mamma, in that icy tone which I knew so well, and -which I knew suggested that she was not in the very sweetest temper, -“I think you had better retire to your own room.” - -“To her own room!” cried Mr Hammond. “And why, Mrs O’Brady, would you -break our hearts and darken the heavens?” - -“I don’t know if you are aware, Mr Hammond, that at least your -language is peculiar. I am afraid that Norah must have been forgetting -herself to be the cause of this--singular scene.” - -“Forgetting herself? Not at all! It’s we who have been remembering -her--that’s how it is, Mrs O’Brady. And, between ourselves, I’d be -glad if you’d tell her that you’d like her to occupy a stall I have -to-night at the Gaiety Theatre.” - -“Excuse me, Mrs O’Brady,” interposed Basil Carter, “but Mr Hammond -seems disposed to take an unfair advantage of you. It is I who would -ask you to permit Miss Norah to share my box.” - -“Mrs O’Brady,” exclaimed Jack Purchase, “before you say one word to -either of them, please allow me to inform you that it was I who first -asked Miss Norah to honour me.” - -“And how about my dinner at the King’s!” cried Major Tibbet. “I need -hardly tell you, Mrs O’Brady, that I have the good fortune to be -somewhat the senior of these young gentlemen, and it is therefore with -every confidence that I ask you this evening to entrust Miss Norah to -me.” - -Mamma’s manner, as she replied, was anything but genial. - -“Whether consciously or not I cannot say, but you gentlemen are -behaving with more than a little singularity. You seem oblivious of -the fact that other ladies are present besides this--child. Must I -again request you, Norah, to oblige me by at once retiring to your own -room?” - -Suddenly a voice came from the door, and Mr Rumford advanced at a pace -which was hardly becoming to his decidedly well-developed figure--in -his hand the ubiquitous box. He and Lilian had entered together, and -only a second before, unless I was much mistaken, I had seen him -offering it to her. Now he withdrew it, with what was very like a -snatch, from her approaching fingers. - -“Retire to her own room!” he protested, in that loud, ringing voice of -his, which always made me think what an excellent cheap-jack he would -have made. “You couldn’t be so cruel, Mrs O’Brady. It’s not to be -thought of, not for a moment. May I ask you to accept these bonbons, -dear Miss Norah? I am sure you have a sweet tooth--it would be so in -character. And I am so fortunate as to have two stalls to-night for -the Gaiety Theatre. If you would avail yourself of one----” - -He was interrupted by Audrey breaking into an apparently irresistible -peal of laughter. Everyone turned to stare at her. That sort of thing -is so unusual in Audrey, who is generally the quietest of persons. I, -for one, had never heard her laugh like that before. She endeavoured -to explain what had caused her merriment. - -“It really is so funny; all the world is going to-night to the Gaiety -Theatre. The coincidence is most amusing.” - -“And yet the explanation is extremely simple,” commented Eveleen, -speaking in a coldly acid voice, which meant that she was raging hot -within. “We have all been talking about it lately, and I suppose that -we have all dropped hints that we would like to go. These gentlemen, -with that generosity which we know is one of their most charming -characteristics, have acted on those hints--up to a certain point. -They have all, with one accord, provided themselves with seats. Are we -to take it, Norah, that you propose to occupy them all?” - -Mr Hammond snapped his fingers, making a noise like the report of a -pop gun. - -“You’ve hit it on the head, Miss Eveleen; prevented bloodshed, and -solved the problem. Miss Norah, we’ll act upon your sister’s hint. -Tibbet, we all of us will dine with you.” - -The Major looked as if the proposition took him by surprise--which was -not to be wondered at. - -“You’ll excuse me, Mr Hammond, but I’m hanged if you will.” - -“Then Miss Norah won’t, for to-night we hunt in companies.” - -The Major looked at the speaker with a rueful countenance. - -“How many are there of you?” - -“Four, barring Miss Norah, and she counts for all the world. At what -time do you dine?” - -“I, sir, dine at eight.” - -“Eight! Why, man, that’s the time the theatre begins. You’ll dine at -seven.” - -“You adopt a very peculiar tone, Mr Hammond, in endeavouring to -dictate to me at what hour I take my meals. I entirely decline to -contemplate the possibility of my dining at such an un-Christian hour -as seven.” - -“Good! then we’ll dine at seven, and you’ll dine afterwards. When -we’ve dined we’ll go on together in a body to the theatre, and Miss -Norah shall take it turn and turn about to sit with us. What do you -say, gentlemen? Isn’t that a sporting proposition?” - -“On condition that Miss Norah sits first of all with me, I, for one, -am not indisposed, for the sake of peace, to waive some portion of my -undoubted rights.” - -This was Basil Carter. Mr Purchase came hard upon his heels. - -“Now, Basil, you’ve taken the words out of my mouth. If Miss Norah -sits first with me, Hammond, you may count me in.” - -“Gentlemen! gentlemen!” cried Mr Rumford. “It appears to me that I -have a voice in the matter; I claim the place of honour.” - -Mr Hammond endeavoured to throw oil upon the waters. - -“Softly! keep a tight hand upon the reins. Wait till the gate has -gone, then we’ll all be off together. There need be no difficulty -about a little thing like that. For my part, if the running’s fair, -I’m willing that my stall shall be the last Miss Norah sits in; -that’ll suit me all the way. But there are ways and means of settling -that sort of thing pleasantly and quietly between ourselves. The main -point is the principle--we’re to share and share alike. If that’s -conceded, we’ll worry about the details afterwards. You understand, -Miss Norah, that you’re to dine with us at seven. We’ll be here, the -lot of us, to fetch you at a quarter to. For the sake of all the good -horses that ever ran an honest race, be ready--don’t keep us -waiting--we’ll be an anxious crowd. And, until then, Miss Norah, I’ll -be wishing you good-bye.” - -“I also, Miss Norah,” said Mr Carter, taking my hand before I knew -that he meant to offer me his. “I am well aware that your near -neighbourhood will bring happiness to me, but, at the same time, I -would have you clearly realise that I only relinquish the rare -privilege of your undivided society throughout the evening for the -sake of that harmony which I know you would desire.” - -“Miss Norah,” urged Mr Purchase, “do not for one moment suppose that, -in self-abnegation, Basil is one whit in front of me. What I suffer by -acceding, for the sake of peace, to the compromise which has been -suggested, it is possible that you will one day know.” - -“It’s you only I’m thinking of, Miss Norah,” declared Mr Rumford. “I -needn’t tell you which I’m likely to prefer, to have you all to -myself--blissful thought, Miss Norah!--or to--to share you with a -crowd.” - -Mr Rumford looked about him in a way which certainly was not -suggestive of the harmony of which they all were speaking. Major -Tibbet joined himself to the chorus, with a simper which ill became -him. - -“You will judge what my feelings are, Miss Norah, when I tell you -that, for your sake, I will consent to dine at seven. I have made it -one of the rules of my life never to dine, anywhere, before eight. How -long it is since I dined at the abnormal hour of seven, I am unable to -say positively, without referring. But so far as my memory serves -me--and in matters of such importance I think my memory may be -trusted--I say, that so far as my memory serves me----” - -“Yes, we know what you say, Tibbet; and you can say the rest to-night. -Remember, Miss Norah, a quarter to seven--sharp!” - -Mr Hammond thrust his arm through the Major’s and bore him away. The -five men all left the room, and I was left alone with the girls and -mamma. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - THE TURNING OF THE WORM - -No one spoke a word for quite a minute. The girls and mamma were -looking at me--I was conscious of their eyes all over me--and I was -looking at the floor. I felt as if I had been guilty of--to say the -very least--the gravest impropriety, though I had not the faintest -notion how, and was thoroughly well aware that now the storm was about -to burst,--which presently it did. Mamma began--in that tone of voice -in which she addresses observations to the servants which she dares -them to deny. It gives you the impression that she is sitting on the -safety-valve, and that in another half-second there will be a blow-up. -And there generally is. - -“Norah, may I ask you to tell me what is the meaning of the scene -which I have just witnessed?” - -I smoothed the petals of one of Mr Carter’s roses. - -“Really, mamma, you know as well as I do.” - -“Please don’t speak to me in that impertinent manner.” Her voice was -raised perhaps half a tone. “I insist upon an explanation. Why have -these men behaved in so disgraceful a fashion, and what encouragement -have you been giving them?” - -“Encouragement? I?” I glanced up with what I intended to be my air of -perfect innocence. I do not fancy, from the expression which was on -mamma’s countenance, that she quite liked the look which was on mine. -“Audrey and Doris have been here the whole time. They will be able to -tell you what encouragement I have offered.” - -“Do you expect me to believe that these men would have given -you--you!--the presents which were intended for your sisters, unless -you had offered them some extraordinary and disgraceful -encouragement?” - -“I do not know why they gave the things to me. I am sure I did not -want them. I could not have told them so more plainly. I shall have -pleasure in handing them over to whoever you think they were -originally intended for.” - -Doris spoke. She was still sitting on the couch, her arms raised, her -hands clasped under the back of her head, her face turned towards the -ceiling. Her manner was smilingly acid. - -“How nice of you, Norah! And will you really give me Mr Purchase’s red -roses, and Audrey Mr Carter’s pink ones, and Lilian Mr Rumford’s -bonbons? Eveleen already has Mr Hammond’s gloves, and mamma the -Major’s turkey,--at least, she will have, when she picks it up from -the floor, since those you declined to accept. How very sweet you are! -Think of studying our feelings to that extent.” - -Lilian came forward. She looked more disagreeable than any of them. -Considering that Mr Rumford’s conduct had been so very unexpected, and -that she had made up her mind that it was time that she should marry -someone, and that Mr Rumford was the most eligible person who seemed -likely to present himself, there was some excuse for her, though I do -not think she need have been quite so vicious as she was. - -“At any rate, I will have those bonbons. They certainly were not meant -for you.” - -She positively snatched at the box, which was on the ottoman at my -side. I looked up at her with my sweetest smile. - -“With the greatest possible pleasure, my dear Lilian. I should not -wish to accept anything from Mr Rumford. You know that he is not the -sort of person to whom I should care to be indebted in the smallest -particular.” - -“Then don’t you dare to go to the Gaiety with him to-night!” - -“Dare? My dear Lilian, what very odd language you do use. It’s not a -question of daring, I can assure you.” I smiled down at Mr Carter’s -roses, which I had exchanged for Mr Purchase’s. “It’s not my fault if -he prefers to take me instead of you--is it?” - -I thought she would have boxed my ears. I feel sure she would have -liked to. Eveleen laughed. - -“And I suppose,” she said, “that it’s not your fault if they all of -them prefer to take you instead of us.” - -I kept on smiling at the roses. - -“I don’t know why they should prefer it. I haven’t an idea.” - -“It is a novel experience, isn’t it?” - -“I certainly haven’t been to the theatre with so many gentlemen as -you, if that’s what you mean.” - -I did not raise my eyes, but I have a suspicion that Eveleen looked at -me a little waspishly. - -“I wonder if, after all, you are cleverer than we have given you -credit for. If so, you have managed to hide your light under a bushel -for a good many years. You must excuse my saying so, but you seem this -afternoon to have performed a sort of conjuring trick.” - -“A conjuring trick? How?” - -“You have captured, at a single stroke, the five hearts which, -separately and individually, we have been laboriously cultivating, and -all the seats which were meant for us; while we--we, alas!--have been -left lamenting. Don’t you think yourself that that’s a sort of -conjuring trick?” - -“You know, Eveleen, men are very fickle.” - -“I have had some experience of men, as you have hinted, and I am -painfully aware, my dear child, of the truth of that elementary fact -in natural history; but I did not know that they were fickle to quite -the extent which you suggest. I personally have never before seen them -perform a right-about-face quite so rapidly, or quite so impudently -either.” - -Audrey came and planted herself on the carpet at my feet. - -“Let me look at you, Norah. Every marvel, the wise inform us, is -capable of a natural explanation; so perhaps this is.” I was conscious -that those lovely eyes of hers, which see everything, were subjecting -me to a curious scrutiny. “Do you know that there is something -different about you somehow. It’s a sort of atmosphere. I’m sensible -of it as I look at you. Let me see your eyes.” I did. I saw her -breathe more quickly the moment they were fastened on her face. -“That’s it! Child, what hankey-pankey have you been indulging in?” She -laid her hands upon my knees. “Do you know that there is magic in your -eyes, and that you’re prettier than I am?” - -“Audrey! Don’t talk such nonsense! As if I didn’t know!” - -“I beat you in regularity of feature--in those formal charms which go -to the composition of a picture; but there’s magic in your eyes. No -man could look at them and remain unmoved. I can’t. They move me quite -funnily. I’d like to kiss them, and I’m not a kissing person as a -rule. Masculine flesh is much more susceptible than mine. Doris, come -here and look at her, and tell me if you don’t see exactly what I -mean.” - -“I’m much obliged, but I don’t happen to be interested. I have seen -too many persons apparently moved by them already. What I want to know -is, is Jack Purchase going to be moved by them for ever.” - -Audrey had never looked away from my face. Although she might not have -been aware of it, in her voice there came a touch of anxiety. - -“Norah, you’re not fond of Mr Carter, are you?” - -“Well--in a kind of a way.” - -“In a kind of a way? What kind of a way? Remember, child, that what is -sport to you may be--something else to me.” - -I was in a mischievous frame of mind. Each moment the mood was growing -on me. What is more, my courage had returned. When I thought of what I -had suffered at the hands of those four girls, and realised that now -an opportunity had come--though goodness only knew whence, or how, or -why!--to pay them back some of their own coin, an imp of malice seemed -to enter into me, so that I did not care what I did or said. Ignoring -Audrey’s evident earnestness I tried to seem as indifferent as I -could. - -“I don’t like him as much as I do Jack Purchase.” - -“Don’t you, indeed!” retorted Doris, still with her face upturned. -“What an altogether delightful person you seem to have suddenly -become--such a storehouse of all the sisterly virtues. You have my -permission to like Mr Purchase as much as you please; and he is at -liberty to like you--if he is that sort of person.” - -“It’s ridiculous!” cried Lilian, in that vicious way of hers. “Norah -is nothing but a great, ungainly, awkward gawk. She always has been, -and always will be. She is as little likely to appeal to a decent man -as one of Barnum’s freaks. The only kind of person to whom she is -likely to commend herself is such a monstrosity as Crooked Ben.” - -When she said that, I went hot all over. I made up my mind that I -would show her no mercy, at any rate. - -“If that is so isn’t it rather queer that Mr Rumford should prefer my -society to yours?” - -“He doesn’t, and you know very well he doesn’t. If you suppose he does -then you must be a little madder even than I thought, and I am not -conscious of ever having rated your intellectual capacity highly. -These men have simply combined to make you the victim of a stupid -practical joke. They know you are dull, and have traded on that -knowledge to a degree for which I readily admit there is no excuse.” - -“You think so?” - -“Surely you are not going to be such an idiot as to take their -tomfooleries seriously? Use your common-sense--or what stands you in -the place of common-sense. Has any one of them ever treated you with -sufficient civility to enable you to justify to yourself their -ridiculous conduct of this afternoon--the preposterous pose they have -taken up? On the contrary, haven’t they studiously ignored your very -existence--except on those occasions when they have gone out of their -way to laugh at you.” - -“That’s true enough. I’m afraid they have not been very nice to me--in -the past.” - -“In the past! Do you consider, then, that they have treated you nicely -in the present--this afternoon--just now, for instance?” - -“I am of opinion that they have behaved very horridly to us--including -Norah. We should be quite justified in never admitting them into the -house again. Were I Norah I should signify my resentment of their -conduct in a fashion which they would not be likely to forget. -However, tastes differ. It is possible that Norah has her own ideas.” - -This was Doris. Then came Eveleen--in almost everything she said there -was a meaning which was not upon the surface. She is just a mistress -of innuendo. - -“There are people who would prefer to occupy the peculiar position of -a common butt rather than not be taken notice of at all. Perhaps these -gentlemen have counted on the fact. In some men the sense of humour -takes such an odd direction.” - -Audrey showed that she had a clearer insight into the real inwardness -of the matter than all the rest of them put together. - -“You are wrong--all of you. This afternoon Norah is a witch--she has -bewitched them.” - -Eveleen sneered. - -“Really? What a very simple, lucid, and satisfactory explanation of -these gentlemen’s wrong-headedness.” - -“Audrey!” cried Lilian. “How can you talk such nonsense? Do you want -to make a greater fool of her than she has been made already.” - -“Lilian, your temper is such a short one; do keep hold of it. I’m not -holding a brief for Norah; but if you come here and look at her eyes, -and realise the intangible something which is in the atmosphere which -surrounds her, you’ll catch my meaning--for you’re almost as good a -judge of that sort of thing as I am!” - -But Lilian was not to be persuaded. - -“Mamma,” she exclaimed, “why do you allow Audrey to back up those -wretched men in their attempts to turn poor Norah’s naturally silly -head? Do you consider that their behaviour this afternoon has been -creditable either to themselves, or to us, or to you? We are your -daughters. Can you not insist on our being treated, at any rate while -we are in your house, with at least the elements of common respect?” - -Mamma assumed what she meant to be her most dignified air. Her remarks -were intended to be both judicial and crushing. - -“Lilian, you forget yourself, and me. I have hitherto shown myself -capable of watching over my daughters, so far as they have permitted -me to do so. Unfortunately, in some directions, the young women of the -present day are in advance of their parents. Audrey, I must request -you not to make foolish remarks to Norah, who has already been placed -in a sufficiently ridiculous position. Norah, I will not comment at -this moment on the extremely singular manner in which you have deemed -it proper to behave. I find it difficult to credit that I have been -witnessing the conduct of a child of my own. But on that subject I -shall have plenty to say later; of that you may be sure. In the -meantime you will be so good as to understand that I positively forbid -you ever to speak to either of these gentlemen again, or to remain, -under any circumstances, in a room in which they are. Now you will -please to leave this room, and retire to your own.” - -She moved on one side, as if she expected me to march right past her -then and there. But I didn’t. I put first Mr Carter’s and then Mr -Purchase’s roses to my nose, and kept on smiling. - -“Never speak to them again? Mamma, what do you mean?” - -“I mean exactly what I say; and what I say is intelligible even to -you. Now, go.” - -“But, mamma, I am going to dine with them, and going to the theatre -with them afterwards.” - -Mamma came a step nearer. She looked very angry indeed. - -“Be careful, Norah, that you don’t go too far.” - -“Too far! Mamma, what do you mean? You heard them ask me, press me -even--especially Major Tibbet--and the arrangements which were made. -They are coming here in a body at a quarter to seven;--and you, -Eveleen, must have noticed how Mr Hammond begged and prayed I wouldn’t -keep them waiting.” - -“Norah, let me advise you not to force me to resort to measures which -you will afterwards have serious cause to regret. Don’t defy me! You -have not seemed to be a child of mine from the day that you were born. -You have been a burden to me and your sisters all along. Your conduct -this afternoon is a climax. The limits of my patience are nearly -reached. Do as I tell you--leave this room.” - -“I’ll leave this room with pleasure. After what you have said I’m -hardly likely to be tempted to remain. But before I go I mean to have -my say and it’s no use, mamma, your trying to stop me.” - -I stood up, a bunch of roses in either hand; and though mamma looked -as if she would have liked to annihilate me then and there, I fancy -there was something in my appearance which persuaded even her that it -might be advisable, just this once, to let me gang my own queer gait. -I was so much larger than she was, in every way, that to attempt -physical coercion would, obviously, be absurd. And it seemed that no -other measures would avail; so I had my say. - -“You have it that I have been a burden to you and to the girls. Does -it not occur to you that there may be another side to that position, -and that you and the girls have been a burden to me? I suggest it with -no unfilial intention, or in any spirit of disrespect; but doesn’t it? -So far back as I can remember you have never treated me as if I seemed -to be your child. You have thwarted my every wish, tried to force me -into grooves for which nature has unfitted me, trammelled me wherever -I sought expansion. You have always held my sisters up to me as models -of all the virtues--as I have not the slightest doubt they are--and -you have taught them to regard me as half idiot, half monster. I -readily admit that they have been willing pupils, so that I verily -believe that you and they have come to look upon me as of different -flesh and blood than yourselves--almost as something lower than the -beasts that grovel. My life, so far, has been an arid waste. I do not -think that during the whole of it I have known a week’s real -happiness, which is scant measure when you consider what a good time -the girls have always had. You must concede that my turn to have a -good time is nearly due. If you do or don’t, it’s come. I present, my -dear mamma and sisters, an, I am afraid, unpalatable fact--that my -turn to have a good time has come. As Audrey puts it--I’m a witch. -I’ve become one in the twinkling of an eye--just as it happens in the -fairy tales. You have seen how I bewitched those five men whom you -have all been so assiduously courting. Yes--courting; it’s no good any -of you looking black--it’s the exact word. In your dexterous, -delicate, dainty way you’ve all of you courted every man you’ve ever -met. Now, I never courted any man.” - -“For reasons,” murmured Eveleen. - -“Yes, Eveleen, for reasons; one of them being that you’ve always done -your best to make it clear how absurd it would be for me to attempt to -court any man who was in the least desirable. Yet now these men have -courted me!--you’ve seen it with your own eyes!--to the ruination of -your tempers! At sight of me they’ve thrown themselves at my head -before your very faces, pressed on me the offerings which were -designed for you, implored my acceptance of the seats which you had -hoped to occupy. And they have left the house, ignoring your -existence--as mine has been wont to be ignored; thinking only of me, -looking forward rapturously to the evening they hope to spend in my -society. And they shall spend it, too. I’ll sit in all those seats, -turn and turn about, one after the other; and I’ll be admired by all -the theatre--or, at least, by all the men in it. You wait and you -shall see; or, if you don’t see, afterwards you shall hear. It will -amuse you hugely, I haven’t the slightest doubt. And I’ll dine with -them. You know, mamma, that Major Tibbet can be trusted to order a -dinner; and though I mayn’t do it such justice as you would, I’ll do -my best. And I should like to see any of you try to stop me. How would -you propose to do it? Physically, I’m a match for all of you together. -In a muscular sense, I’m a splendid animal. Compared to me you’re like -dolls, soft as putty--you pride yourselves on it!--while I’m -comparatively as hard as iron. I could drop you out of the window, one -after the other, or all together, with the greatest ease.” - -Audrey touched my arm. - -“Norah, don’t talk like that.” - -“I am only putting a purely supposititious case, my dearest Audrey. -What is more, if any of you were to seek to stay me with so much as a -word, when those men come I’d make my complaint to them; then you’d -see what it means for a man to be bewitched by a woman. At a word from -me there’s nothing they would not do. I’ve but to raise my finger, and -they’d cast what you call decency to the winds. Then you’d see the -natural man; it would surprise you. They’re just my slaves. And now -that I have made the position clear to you, and my intentions plain, I -shall have much pleasure--in leaving you the room.” - -I left it. I fancy I left them in rather a curious frame of mind as -well. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - MISS NORAH’S SOLILOQUY - -I do not know that I was wholly proud of myself as I went up to my -room--not even so proud as I had led those dear creatures in the -drawing-room to suppose. I imagine I must really be an odd kind of -creature, because I am not at all sure that it is not vulgar to make -man, either in a general or particular sense, the entire end and -object of their existence, as so many women--who think themselves very -far from vulgar--do. To be perfectly frank, I have no opinion whatever -of man. Perhaps that is because he has none of me. Up to the present, -he emphatically does not seem to have. But that only places me in the -position of the onlooker who sees most of the game. I have seen some -games, I give you my word for it. And I have come to the conclusion -that man is useful, in his way; generous, sometimes; of service, -occasionally, as a husband and a father; and that, as a sort of -courier, or Cook’s conductor, looking after the wants, ways, and whims -of women, not altogether to be despised. But he is frightfully earthy, -and has a most amazing conceit of himself. And why so many -women--delightful, charming women--should spend their whole lives in -endeavouring to please him, and swell with pride when they fancy they -have succeeded in doing so--that is beyond my comprehension. - -I was not so clear as I should like to have been that there was not a -smack of vulgarity about my passages with those five men. It was -undeniably vulgar to crow, as if I had done something to crow about; -and I was uncomfortably conscious of a tendency towards an attitude of -mind which I should describe as cock-a-doodle. Because, after all, -what had I done? Simply caused those five men to behave with peculiar -and unpardonable rudeness to my mother and sisters, and--well, not too -nicely towards me. For I could not regard it as a compliment that they -should hustle each other, and nearly snap each other’s nose off, in -their eagerness for my society. Or, rather, if it were a compliment, -it was not the kind I cared for. At least, I did not think it was. - -Yet--it was amusing. Really funny. When I thought how silly and -awkward those men had looked, and of the nonsense they had talked, and -of each one’s ridiculous anxiety to appropriate me to himself, I put -my hands up to my face and laughed. And then mamma’s and the girls’ -faces! their undignified attitudes of disgust, bewilderment, wonder! -Oh, dear me, how I did laugh! If they had heard me downstairs they -must have been convinced that my brain really was unhinged at last. -When I had finished laughing, it did not seem as though I had enjoyed -the joke enough. I jumped up, picked up the hem of my skirt, and -jigged about the room. I am big and clumsy, and I daresay I do not -dance well, but, just then, I danced to please myself. And I pleased -myself immensely. It was as though I had suddenly become inspired by -the conviction that I was the most delightful creature in the world. -It was absurd. I realised at the time it was absurd. But there was the -conviction, all the same. And if a girl cannot think well of herself -when she has bowled over five men, as if they were nine-pins, when can -she? I have known a four foot six woman carry herself as if she were -six foot four, merely because some whippersnapper of a boy has asked -her to dance twice in a single evening. - -Besides, I was not certain that my estimate of myself was so very -absurd. - -“All the money I have in the world,” I exclaimed aloud, “is -two-and-eightpence-halfpenny. I would like to bet every farthing of -it, that if a man--I don’t care what man, any man--saw me now he’d -fall head over heels in love with me at sight.” - -As I looked in the glass I felt convinced that my money would be -perfectly safe. I knew it--was sure of it, in fact. As I observed the -image which was mirrored there, something told me--I don’t pretend to -know what, but something did--that there was not a man breathing who -would not desire--with a pretty strong desire too--to stand well in -my--I will call them on this occasion only--fair eyes. It was a -singular feeling, the more so since it amounted to absolute -conviction. I am not conceited--my worst enemy has never called me -that. For one thing, I have never had anything to be conceited about. -But then I knew, knew! that no man could look at me without desiring -me. And in my time such numbers of men have looked at me only to wish -that I was at Jericho, or that they were. - -It did seem so odd. And it was a queer sensation. I felt as if I had -all at once become possessed of some strange, occult, man-compelling -power. And I believe I had. That unfinished sentence was still upon -the dressing-table. I picked it up, and looked at it, and wondered. - -Something about it caught my eye. Before, it had read, “You shall have -your wish u--,” and there had stopped. Since I saw it last an “n” had -been added; so that it now read, “You shall have your wish un--.” Was -the sentence still to be completed? If so, what form would it have in -its perfect state? - -What had I been wishing? That every man might fall in love with me at -sight? Well! was that the one which was to be granted? The -gratification of such a wish could hardly fail to provide one with -entertainment. And I had had so little entertainment in my time. Was I -the victim of hallucination? or the heroine of an up-to-date fairy -tale? It did not matter, so long as the hallucination was substantial -enough; or the fairy tale as amusing as this one bade fair to be. Let -me see: the baker’s boy, the shop-walker, the hairdresser, and these -five men. Unmistakably these persons had suddenly seen attractions in -me which they had not observed before. To bag eight men during a few -fleeting minutes of a single forenoon was not bad sport. And the -miscellaneous character of the bag was not the least satisfactory part -of it. If matters proceeded as they had begun, there could be no doubt -whatever that I should be provided with sufficient entertainment. - -In the meantime I must not forget that I was to dine with these five -gentlemen. It seemed to me to be rather a large order. I never had -dined with a gentleman except in company with members, feminine -members, of my own family. And now to be about to dine alone with -five! And such a five! - -“I cannot say, whatever may be their feelings towards me, that I am -the least bit in love with them.” That, to myself, I frankly admitted. -“As for Major Tibbet, he’s a person for whom I have no kind of use, -and never should have. Yet it seems that he is to be my principal -host, at least as far as the dinner is concerned. I should like to -know what he fancies he likes in me, since I dislike everything he -likes, himself included. Let’s hope that he won’t go on to the theatre -with us afterwards. The proceedings at the theatre bid fair to be -peculiar. Let me figure it out. Mr Carter has a box, and Mr Purchase -hopes to have one. I wonder what will happen if he finds that there -isn’t one to be had? Will they come to blows? or will they behave like -sensible beings, and agree to share a box--and me? That would -certainly be the more reasonable course to pursue. Though I quite -understand that when a man has a box all to himself, and a girl alone -in it, there are things which he can say with greater ease. I wonder -where Mr Hammond’s stall is, and Mr Rumford’s. It is devoutly to be -hoped that they are outside stalls, and that each is not the centre of -a different row. In that case it must be distinctly understood that -the transfer of me is to take place at the end of each act, because if -they attempt to haul me from one stall to another in the middle of a -scene, there’ll be a scene. Indeed, I think it’s probable there’ll be -a scene in any case. Because when the people see me being passed from -one man to another, and the four men who haven’t me glaring at the one -who has--and I’m afraid they will glare--they’ll begin to take an -interest in what is going on, so that the traffic of the stage may -suffer. I am convinced that I shall be sufficiently entertained.” - -A thought occurred to me, which would have occurred to a sensible girl -at the very first. But I am not a sensible girl, and in particular I -was very far from feeling sensible just then! So that it only came to -me at the tag end, as it were, and then with a sort of a kind of a -shock. - -“What shall I wear? There’s the black, and the white, and the blue; -and they none of them suit me, and they’re all of them old; and I -believe that each of them stands in need of repairs. So the outlook’s -promising. Now, if my fairy godmother were to clothe me all over with -sumptuous raiment, as she did Cinderella, in this the hour of my -triumph, that would be something like. I’d dazzle them, that I would. -But as that is not likely to happen, I shall have to consider in which -of the relics I call my evening gowns I look least beastly.” - -I spread all three out upon the bed. And I did not like the look of -either. In fact, I objected vigorously to them all. And I always had -done, that was the best of it. But until that moment I had not cared -much; and no one else had cared either; so it had not mattered. I -picked up the black and turned it round and round. - -“I believe black tones me down, and I have been told that I need a -deal of toning, so perhaps to put myself inside it would be -discretion. But the thing never has fitted me, the bodice holds my -arms down to my sides like a straight-waistcoat; I’ve torn the skirt -three times away from the gathers; it’s only clinging to them now with -the aid of a row of pins. So if anyone were to put his arms about -me,--which, of course, isn’t for a moment to be thought of--but I have -heard that things do happen! There might be a demand for sticking -plaster, which I could not possibly supply.” - -I put down the black, and took up the white. - -“The last time I wore this thing a man tore about three yards off the -back and never begged my pardon. It was white; but I think that the -moment has almost arrived to begin to call it cream, or écru, or, -perhaps coffee-coloured would be the more appropriate word. If it were -not that it is all in rags it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s a work of art -getting into it, and when I am in I am never sure how much of me is -out. In a dress of this sort you want to see both back and front. -You’re always haunted by the consciousness that other people can, -although you can’t. I’m afraid it mustn’t be the white; though I’m -almost sure it’s the one I hate the least.” - -I proceeded to examine the blue. - -“Blue suits nearly everyone, except this particular shade of blue, -which it is impossible to believe suits anyone. I know that when I am -in it I look my very worst, and that is saying such a deal. I believe -that that’s why mamma gave it to me. When there’s any article of -wearing apparel in the house which no one will touch with a pair of -tongs, it’s presented to me with a flourish, and I’m expected to be -grateful. They have such a primitive way of regarding the matter! ‘You -see,’ they say, ‘it’s of no consequence what you wear. You never look -well in anything. So what difference can it possibly make!’ If I were -to talk to them like that there’d be a clatter. To-night, at any rate, -I will not wear the blue.” - -I tossed it back upon the bed. - -“For the rest, I’ve a gorgeous pair of scarlet silk stockings, which -Lilian gave me once, in a fit of frantic generosity, because they were -miles and miles and miles too big for her. But I haven’t any shoes -which will go with them. I’ve one fairly decent petticoat, so long as -you don’t look at it too close. And I’ve a lovely set of undies, I -bought them myself with my very own money, because they looked so -scrumptious! which I have never dared to wear. I will wear them if for -this night only. I don’t think anything else is wanted, in particular. -Which is just as well. Because I’m sure I haven’t got it if it is. Oh -for that fairy godmother, and the most becoming things in the very -latest fashion! Hollo! I wonder if that is the lady?” - -The query was prompted by the fact that just then there was a smart -tapping at the door. - -“Who’s there?” - -It was not a fairy godmother; it was Jane, as was made clear by her -turning the handle and disclosing herself in the doorway. - -“If you please, miss, can I be of any use to you?” - -“Any use to me? What do you mean?” - -“Well, Miss Norah, I heard that you was going out with them gentlemen; -so I thought that perhaps you might like me to help you to dress.” - -I stared. I was unused to the ministrations of a maid, and had -certainly not expected an offer of the kind from Jane, who was not in -good odour with the heads of the family. Indeed, mamma was only -keeping her on, because, under present circumstances, if she did go, -we should be servantless. - -“How did you know that I was going out?” - -“Well, miss, you was all of you talking so loud, and the drawing-room -door wide open, so that I couldn’t hardly help but hear. If you -wouldn’t mind, I should like helping you, Miss Norah. If you’ll excuse -my saying so, you never do seem to make the best of yourself somehow. -In my last place there was two young ladies, and I used to help them -often.” - -Jane had a free and easy way of speaking which suggested that in some -of the places she had been in the servants had been permitted -liberties. But I had a feeling that she was not a bad sort in her way. -And then so few people ever do offer to do anything for me, that when -anyone does I find it nearly impossible to refuse to let them. - -“Really, Jane, I don’t see how you can be of use to me. I’ve only a -lot of old things to wear, which I’ve worn dozens and dozens of times -before, and anyone could put them on blindfold.” - -“Pardon me, Miss Norah, but that’s just where you’re mistaken, as, if -you’ll allow me, I very soon will show you. There’s a way of putting -on even old things which will almost make people think that you’ve -never had them on before. Your sisters, now, work wonders. They can -make the same thing look as if it was twenty. I’m sure that I’ve often -thought to myself that if they ever was to turn lady’s maids to a lady -as wanted to make a large show on a little money, they’d be worth any -amount, they would. I’ve never know anyone who made one dress to -behave as if it was half-a-dozen, like they can.” - -I was not sure that I relished her manner of expressing herself. And -when I recalled the spectacle she had herself presented on certain -occasions when I had witnessed her sallying forth on her Sundays out, -I was inclined to be more than dubious as to her capacity to make the -best of me. Yet she seemed, too, so anxious to be of service, and so -convinced that I should find her assistance of the greatest value, -that I had not the heart to send her packing. - -Though I am nearly confident that I should have been wiser if I had. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - JANE - -Jane’s remarks, as she turned my wardrobe over and over, commenting -on it critically as she did so, made it almost as clear as possible -that in accepting her assistance I had been guilty of an indiscretion. -Considering the position in which she was supposed to stand towards me -there was a frankness about her which I felt was unbecoming. - -“Well, you haven’t got much to wear, and that’s a fact, look at it how -you may; and what you have got I’ve seen you in till I should think -you was sick of the sight; not that they amounted to anything, even -when they was new.” - -As I was about to point out, with some severity, that observations of -that kind were not likely to assist me to any material extent, she -branched off at a tangent. - -“I was never out with five gentlemen all at once, not myself I wasn’t. -The most I was ever out with was three; and as two of them started -fighting before we’d gone very far you couldn’t hardly call that a -success. They knocked each other about something cruel--at least, so I -was given to understand. So far as I was concerned, I never so much as -spoke to them again. Because I always have held, and always shall -hold, that when two gentlemen start fighting about a lady out in the -open street, right before her very eyes, as it were, they aren’t -gentlemen--no, and never won’t be neither.” - -Though open to admit that her sentiments might do her credit, I could -not perceive their application to the subject in hand. As I was about -to drop a hint to that effect, she returned, with a frankness which I -again found slightly embarrassing, to the subject of clothes. - -“Now, about underneath. I hold that’s it’s no good having a smart gown -on if there’s nothing but rags inside. When a party lifts a scarlet -satin skirt to show a torn petticoat, and, perhaps, an odd pair of -stockings what’s all holes, she might fancy herself, but I never -should. I say if it must be a torn petticoat, put it on outside, and -the satin skirt underneath, it would be less deceiving. Now, miss, -what was you thinking of wearing?” - -Jane had not a delicate touch. She framed her inquiries with a -directness which was a little appalling. I explained--to her -satisfaction. She was even pleased to be enthusiastic. - -“Now, if you could only wear them outside, and them wretched, shabby -old dresses underneath, that would be something like. It’s a pity, -miss, you can’t. Things like them is not meant to be hidden. About -them scarlet stockings. As it just happens, I’ve got a pair of scarlet -shoes. They was given me by a lady friend for whom they was too large, -and they’re a bit too big for me. But they’re about the shade; and I -should think, with a little management, they might fit you.” - -Some persons might resent such a remark as that. It did not sound -complimentary. But I am too well aware that I am, in all respects, -beyond the ordinary size of a woman, to be much affected by allusions -to the fact. What I did not relish was the notion of getting into -shoes which had been transferred from that lady friend to Jane. I -wondered dimly what mamma and the girls would say, if it ever came to -their ears that such a suggestion had been made. But Jane would listen -to nothing. She seemed to have made up her mind to see me through--and -see me through she would. Off she went to get those shoes. - -So soon as she was gone I meditated a plan for preventing her return. -I did not want her shoes, and I did not want her assistance either. I -was beginning to be fearful that I should be a bigger fright with her -aid than without it. Had there been a key in the door, it would have -been easy. But there was not. My bedroom lacked a good many things, -one of them being a means of securing it against intruders. It was at -the top of the house, right away from the others, on the same floor as -the servants’; so that Jane had but to slip through my door, and -across to hers. - -I did think of putting my foot against the door, and keeping her out -like that; but it would have been a brusque method of proceeding, and -might have hurt her feelings. After all, she meant well; and, as I -have said, so few people ever did mean well towards me, that I found -it exceedingly difficult to thwart them when the mood was on them. - -Some minutes elapsed before Jane returned. When she did, I was really -not in a condition of costume to offer effective resistance of any -kind. Time was passing. Mr Hammond had emphasised his request that I -would not keep them waiting, but that I would be ready at a quarter to -seven; so I was beginning to make as much haste as I could. Besides, I -had a sort of feeling that it might be just as well to get through, at -least, the initiatory stages, before Jane appeared; her observations -did lean so strongly towards the side of candour. - -When she entered I was conscious of what I believe people call a -qualm, though just what kind of qualm it was, I am not prepared to -positively assert. She had not only in her hands a pair of scarlet -shoes, but her arms were heaped up with what I had an intuitive -perception were assorted specimens of her wardrobe. Did she propose to -array me in her splendours? Was I to sally forth with five gentlemen -to dinner in Jane’s attire? Were her clothes to flit from seat to seat -in the Gaiety Theatre? Did she suppose that any of them would fit me; -I was a head taller than she was? Her figure was what I should have -described as weedy; I daresay she considered it elegant. My chest was -as broad as a grenadier’s--horribly broad! Were not mamma and the -girls intimately acquainted with nearly every article of clothing I -possessed? Would they not instantly detect upon me the presence of an -unaccustomed thing? Would not inquiries be promptly instituted as to -where I got it from? Could I answer--Jane? - -That she was totally without suspicion that such questions could be -chasing each other through my bosom, her observations quickly showed. - -“I think that, between us, miss, we shall make you look something -like.” - -I had no doubt of that whatever; it was that which racked me. - -“It isn’t often that you do go out with five gentlemen, all at once, -nor anyone else, for the matter of that; so that when you do go, it’s -just as well that them five gentlemen should know that they’ve got -someone with ’em as everyone was looking at.” - -I was not so sure of that, by any means. Momentarily it was becoming -clearer that Jane’s point of view was scarcely mine. - -“A gentleman friend of mine, he likes colour--pink especial. He’d like -to see me pink from head to foot, winter and summer, though for winter -it always seems to me to be a trifle cool. I got that hat to suit him. -Now, that’s what I call striking!” She held out the article in front -of her. “If you try it on, you’ll find it’ll stand out on you. You try -it on, Miss Norah.” - -I try it on!--Jane’s hat!--That hat! A shiver went all over me, which -was not caused by my being at the moment lightly clad. Fortunately, I -was not compelled to go to quite those limits, there was a loophole -for escape. - -“You forget, Jane, that I shall not wear a hat, so I’m afraid it will -be no use for me to try it on, especially as time is getting short. -Though it’s awfully good of you to suggest it; I’m sure that in that -hat I should look striking.” - -I was sure. It was a pink silk article, of the picture variety, with a -big brilliant pink bow ornamenting it in front, and a huge pink -feather running round it, and then drooping over the side. If I went -out with that on my head, even the omnibus drivers would make remarks. - -Jane seemed to regret my unwillingness to try it on. Possibly, my -disinclination to avail myself of her offer did not synchronise with -her notions of feminine human nature. - -“I was forgetting, miss, as how you could not wear a hat. It seems a -pity. I suppose it couldn’t be managed.” - -“I am afraid not. You see, I could hardly wear it at dinner; and if I -did, they wouldn’t let me into the theatre with it afterwards.” - -She laid that nightmare in bilious pink on one side, with a sigh. - -“It do seem a pity, it really do! In that hat you’d be noticeable if -you was with fifty gentlemen, let alone with five.” - -I was convinced of it. I told her so. - -“It’s tremendously nice of you to wish to eke out my odds and ends -with your lovely things, Jane; but all the same I know I shouldn’t do -justice to them, and I think I’d better stick to what is my own.” - -“And that’s where you’re wrong, miss--begging your pardon for saying -so. Now, there’s a tri-coloured sash. I got it when there was them -patriotic goings on, me having a cousin in the militia what got -invalided home owing to his drinking habits. That’s something like a -sash, that is. You wear it over your shoulder like them Oddfellows--I -had a uncle what was one till he got three months for knocking his -wife about. After that he joined the Salvation Army for a change--and -then you tie it round your waist, and let it hang. It’s a foot wide, -and there’s seven yards of it, so there’s plenty for hanging. It would -show off one of them shabby old dresses of yours, that it would.” - -I realise the truth of this. Still--it was so very showy. The red hit -you in the eye, the blue was another case of the wrong shade, the -white, one could but hope, had seen whiter days. I could not see my -way to imitating the Oddfellows and letting it hang. I broke it to her -as gently as I was able. - -“It is showy. Certainly no one could help noticing me if I did have it -on.” - -“I’d defy ’em.” - -“So would I. But I’m thinking of wearing my black; and, do you know, -Jane, I’m inclined to believe that the less colour I wear the better.” - -“I believe in colour; it lights you up.” - -“Yes; it lights you up, but it would make me flare. You see, you have -such a much more delicate figure than I have.” - -“I have been told that I’ve a delicate figure, and it’s no use my -denying it. Still, I say this of colour--for everyone--it makes ’em -stand out.” - -“It does. You’re quite right. Especially a red, white, and blue sash. -There’s not a doubt of it.” - -“And what I say is, a woman wants to stand out, unless she’s a mere -worm, and goodness knows that I’m no worm. The more she stands out the -more she’s noticed--and, if she’s any opinion of herself, as she ought -to have, notice is what she wants. Now here is something tasty--and -full dress. That’s a opera cloak, that is, green silk with yellow -stripes. That’s beaver trimming round the edges--real beaver. It’s a -bit rusty here and there, but nothing to signify. I call it handsome. -It was left to me by an aunt what died. She went about a good deal in -society; her husband being a scene painter, and getting her orders for -the theatre constant. Nights together she’d sit in the middle of the -front row of the stalls in that very cloak, especially when business -was a bit slack and they wanted the theatre to seem crowded as it -were. Because, as I’ve been given to understand, people what pays -won’t go to the theatre unless you can make ’em believe that they -can’t get in. My aunt got to be known by that cloak. ‘The lady with -the green silk opera-cloak with yellow stripes and beaver trimming’ -they used to speak of her as. I’ve only worn it myself two or three -times, to dances and such like. Now it would set you off, that would. -It’s a little short, perhaps, for you; but I’m told that they’re -wearing them short just now.” - -It would scarcely have covered my shoulders; but there was a good deal -too much of it, for all that. - -“Are they? You evidently are better posted in the fashions, Jane, than -I am.” - -“I take in two fashion-books myself--leastways, there are fashions in -them--and see seven.” - -“Do you? That explains it. It’s a wonderful cloak; but I have a cloak -of my own, though it isn’t much of a one, and I really think I ought -to wear it.” - -“There’s no ought about it, if you’ll excuse my saying so. You can -wear my opera cloak, if you like, miss, and welcome.” - -“You’re very, very good, Jane. Suppose we wait till I have finished -dressing, and then see how it goes.” - -“Very well, miss; as you please. But there’s one thing you’ll have to -wear, and that’s those scarlet shoes. You told me yourself that you’d -a pair of scarlet stockings, but no shoes to match ’em; so, as far as -wearing these goes, it’s a case of have to.” - -Apparently it was. The scarlet shoes in question never had been of -first-rate quality, and they were not exactly new. It seemed as if the -“lady friend” had given them a fair trial before handing them on to -Jane. But they were still presentable, and, plainly, in Jane’s -opinion, beyond the possibility of reproach. I had refused her hat, -her sash, her cloak. I had not the heart to add her shoes to the list -of my refusals,--at any rate, without giving them a trial. And it was -soon made clear that Jane’s ideas on the subject of a trial were -thorough. I got into the stockings, but getting into the shoes was -quite a different thing. She pushed, and I pushed; but the scarlet -shoes continued to show reluctance to make the acquaintance of my -feet. As usual, she commented on the fact in her somewhat painfully -plain-spoken fashion. - -“Really, Miss Norah, you’ve got a man’s foot--you really have. Reminds -me of a cousin of mine who always used to have his boots made -specially for him, all on account of their saying that it took two -pairs of anybody else’s boots to make him one. Used to work on a farm, -he did, which, I have been told, causes the feet to spread.” - -“I don’t believe, Jane, it is that which has extended mine!” - -“It’s sure and certain something must have; because never before did I -see so large a foot upon a lady’s leg, except my grandmother, what -went off with dropsy, so that, when she died, her feet was like -pumpkins. But these shoes have got to go on somehow, or else I’ll know -the reason why.” - -It was not necessary for her to institute any inquiry into recondite -causes--the shoes went on. With difficulty, it is true, but still they -went. And being on, they proved to be not so tight as they might have -been--that is, considering. When I think of some of the shoes into -which my feet have been compressed, Jane’s might have been regarded as -almost loose. She regarded the fruits of her labours with an air of -triumph. - -“No mistake, you do fill them.” - -“I do. It has been my unfortunate experience, on several occasions, to -have filled my shoes a little too completely.” - -“Can you walk in them?” - -I stood up to try. I found that I could, at present. Whether, after -having worn them for an hour or two, locomotion might not become more -difficult, was another story altogether. - -“I shouldn’t care to do a ten-mile tramp in them; but I think I can -manage to do all the walking that’s likely to be required.” - -If the principal pedestrian exercise which I was likely to have to -undergo consisted in passing from seat to seat at the Gaiety Theatre, -I ought to be equal to that. Having once succeeded in getting me into -her shoes, Jane became positively laudatory. - -“They look a fair treat--they do that; what with the stockings and the -shoes together. They’re such a perfect match; you couldn’t have -matched ’em better, not if you’d gone to a shop to do it.” That was -true enough. “And you’re well-shaped, even if you are an extra size.” - -That also, from the bottom of my heart, I believed to be true; and, in -my moments of most extreme despondency, I was wont to hug the -conviction to my bosom. My feet might be large, but then I was large -all over; they were not disproportionate; and I am almost convinced -that, as Jane put it, they were well-shaped. Indeed, I will go -further, and express my opinion that generally I am well-shaped. My -limbs are as well moulded as any girl’s need be. I do not see why it -should be such a tremendous drawback because the mould happened to be -a little bit Titanic. - -I bent down--I had to bend some distance--and I kissed Jane. - -“You’re tremendously good to me, and I thank you awfully for lending -me these very pretty shoes.” - -To my amazement, she burst out crying! - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - A QUARTER TO SEVEN - -At a quarter to seven we were still in what I should describe as the -throes. I daresay that sentence is not perfect English, but it is -exactly what I mean; and, so long as you have that, what does it -matter? - -Jane had made such a mess of her crying, and I had found it so -difficult to make out what the ridiculous creature was crying about; -but it seemed that her young man had spoken to her with freezing -coldness that very afternoon, and that, combined with the excitement -of the discovery that, as she phrased it, I had put mamma’s and the -girls’ noses “out of joint,” by walking off with their five young -men--though you could hardly describe Major Tibbet as young--and the -agitation occasioned her by my kissing her all of a sudden, had -brought her to such a stage that she had to do it. So she did it, -although, with all my heart, I wish she hadn’t. - -Her tears, and my efforts to understand their why and their wherefore, -confused things dreadfully. Some of my things we got on inside out and -some we did not get on at all. When we came to my hair, it was awful. -We spent about twenty minutes in getting it into a mess, and -half-an-hour in getting it out; Jane’s ideas on the subject of -hairdressing were so original, and, when it came to the point, quite -impracticable. At last, when it seemed to me that it must nearly all -have been torn out by the roots, and my scalp was sore all over, we -were confronted by the fact that we had about two seconds in which to -make a satisfactory job of it. - -So then I took it in hand myself. I had had enough of Jane. I just -gave it a twirl and a twist, and jabbed six hairpins into it, and it -had to do. Jane’s opinion of the result was not enthusiastic. - -“Well, miss, I can’t say I think much of it--that I can’t. Looks as if -you’d tried to make as little of it as you possibly could. In fact, -you’ve screwed it that tight, it seems as if you hadn’t hardly any -hair at all.” - -“When one comes to think of the handfuls you’ve pulled out, Jane----” - -“Miss Norah! I have not pulled out handfuls! It’s not fair to talk -like that--that it’s not.” - -“Then half-handfuls, if you prefer it, Jane. Just look at that heap of -hair upon my dressing-table; quite recently it was all upon my head.” - -“I’m sure, miss, I’m very sorry. I never thought you’d take it like -this. I didn’t mean----” - -“That’s all right, Jane. What do a few hairs, more or less, matter? -For goodness’ sake, don’t start crying again. Help me on with my -bodice; and don’t try to induce me to put my right arm into the left -sleeve.” - -As I have said, at a quarter to seven, we were still in the throes. It -was a few seconds before that time when there came a loud rat-tat at -the hall door. I quite jumped. - -“There they are!” I cried; “and I’m not ready!” - -“That you certainly are not, miss; nor nearly.” - -“I don’t know about nearly. I only have to be done up this side, and -put something round my neck, and get my gloves on; and then I shall be -ready.” - -Jane surveyed me through her tear-dimmed eyes, screwing up her lips in -a way she had. - -“Well, miss, there’s ready and there’s ready. If I was going out to -dine with five gentlemen, I shouldn’t think that I was nearly ready; -not by a good deal, I shouldn’t. To me, considering, it don’t seem as -if you had hardly got anything on.” - -There came some more hammering at the door; apparently those gentlemen -were impatient. - -“It’s no good talking like that now. You must go down and let them in. -I shall have to manage.” - -Jane’s manner was a mixture of resignation and acidity. - -“Very well, miss; as you please, miss. I’m sure I’ve done my best; I -couldn’t do no more.” - -I felt convinced of it as she retired. Indeed, I had rather she had -done less. Scarcely had she disappeared than Audrey entered. I stared, -expecting that she was going to favour me with a few candid -criticisms. But no one could have been nicer. - -“Well, child”--considering our relative sizes, the way in which they -will persist in calling me child, is grotesque--“are you dressed for -the great occasion? So Jane has been giving you the benefit of her -assistance.” - -There was a smile on her face which made me feel for Jane. - -“It’s very good of her. She doesn’t seem to have much idea. She -doesn’t pretend to be a lady’s maid; but she’s done her best.” - -In a comprehensive sort of way, Audrey looked me up and down. I felt -as if every one of my weak points was hitting her in the face. - -“Candidly, Norah, you are a difficult child to dress. The mode and you -will ever be at variance. You must have a mode of your own. You are -like Michael Angelo’s statues--on the grand lines.” - -“I don’t know why you need laugh at me. I can’t help it.” - -“I’m not laughing. On the contrary, I’m not sure that if you were -clothed, as you might be, that you wouldn’t be splendid.” - -“Audrey!” - -“But that is not an ideal dress for you; and you don’t seem as if you -knew how to get into it, if it were. Come down to my room; let me add -a touch or two to Jane’s.” - -At that moment Jane returned. - -“If you please, miss, them five gentlemen have come for you; and Mr -Hammond’s compliments, and he hopes that you won’t keep them waiting.” - -Audrey looked at her quickly. - -“Did Mr Hammond send that message?” - -“Yes, miss; them was his own words.” - -Audrey turned to me, with a laugh that was half in earnest. - -“If I were you, Norah, I should return a message to Mr Hammond to the -effect that he need not wait.” - -I hesitated, then spoke: - -“Thank you, Jane; there is no message.” - -When we got into Audrey’s room--she was awfully particular about -keeping it all to herself, scarcely letting me inside it twice a -year--I thought, as I always did, how pretty it was, especially -compared to mine--she said something which took me aback. - -“Norah, I want to ask you a favour.” I stared at her askance. “Don’t -suffer these gentlemen to be impertinent.” - -“As if I should! Do you think they’d dare?” - -“Child, don’t blaze. I don’t know what has got into men’s heads to -make them mad; but I wouldn’t allow them to act as if you took their -madness for granted. That message of Mr Hammond’s was not a very -pretty one.” - -“I will make him smart for it.” - -“Do. A little smarting does some men much good.” - -Her slender fingers, moving about me here and there, worked wonders -with my appearance. She lent me ribbons, laces, those odds and ends -which a girl must have if she wants to be finished properly. And they -were just the proper odds and ends, the delicate trifles which cost -such lots of money. As I saw her handiwork in the looking-glass, I -perceived that she was making me quite presentable. - -“I should like to take down your hair and do it all over again; but -I’m afraid there isn’t time.” - -“I’m sure there isn’t. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” - -“My dear, you’re inexperienced. Don’t allow yourself to be influenced -by any consideration of that kind; especially after the message which -Mr Hammond permitted himself to request Jane to deliver. With some -men, the worse you treat them, the better they treat you. ‘’Tis true, -’tis pity; but pity ’tis, ’tis true.’ By the way, these gentlemen seem -violently drawn towards you; are you equally drawn towards them?” - -“Not I.” - -“Not towards any one of them?” - -“Not towards any one of them. Shall I tell you what I think of them? I -think----” - -“Ssh! I don’t think that, perhaps, you had better tell me what you -think. It might be over--candid.” She smiled up at me in a way which -made her look a perfect dream of loveliness. “Besides--they’re not -all--ganders.” - -“Basil Carter isn’t--at least, I never should have guessed it.” - -“Nor I. It’s rather odd that we should be of the same mind upon that -subject. There, now you look a little better; though, I tell you -again, that you’re a difficult child to dress. Yet it might be worth -one’s while to fashion for you a mode of your own. You are so--very -splendid.” - -“Audrey, I do wish that you wouldn’t laugh at me!” - -“I repeat that I am not laughing. I don’t know, Norah O’Brady, if you -are aware how excellent an opportunity you are about to have to show -how badly you can behave. One girl--five men, each of them wishing the -others were in Heaven. What a chance you’ll have of trampling on what -they flatter themselves are their tenderest feelings. If you’re a -sister of mine, trample on them, Norah, an you love me.” - -“I’ll try.” - -“At least, do try. Let me whisper in your ear. Above all, -trample--with your heaviest tramp--on Basil Carter--not only on his -feelings, but, if opportunity offers, on his very self. I’m much -afraid that he’s the biggest gander of them all--and, Norah, I didn’t -think so once.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - TRAMPLING UPON FIVE - -I cannot truthfully say that I felt exactly proud of myself as I -marched down to the drawing-room. I met Eveleen coming up as I went -down, and she looked flurried; then I met Lilian, and she looked more -flurried still; and, lastly, at the foot of the stairs, mamma. -Something told me that all three of them had been in the drawing-room -to try to bring those men to a consciousness of shame. There was that -in their bearing which hinted that they had not succeeded. Eveleen -suggested a desire to shake me; Lilian an inclination to bite my nose -off; and as for mamma, she received me in a state of fluster which -spoke volumes. - -“You understand, Norah, that I have forbidden you to disgrace me, and -I forbid you again!” - -I was just in a mood to melt, and had mamma adopted another tone, or -even appealed to me to leave her Major Tibbet, I am nearly sure I -should have melted. But when she spoke to me like that, of course, -needles came out all over me, and I smiled as sweetly as I knew how. - -“Disgrace you, mamma? Why it was not necessary to forbid me to do -that. I am sure you have brought me up too carefully to think it.” - -Somehow my soft answer did not seem to turn away mamma’s wrath. - -“Don’t be impertinent, miss! I command you to go into that room and -dismiss those men!” - -“Certainly, mamma; if you will come with me.” - -She wavered, apparently she had just gone through a little passage in -which she had been worsted. - -“I will come with you, but no nonsense, mind; without any unnecessary -words you will dismiss them at once and finally.” - -I was just about to open the drawing-room door for mamma to enter, -when Audrey came flying down the staircase. It certainly did seem, -judging by the very first words she uttered, that she had been -listening over the banisters. - -“Norah, stop! Mamma, don’t be unreasonable. Let her go!” - -Mamma stared. “Let her go! Alone! With those five men! After the way -in which they have behaved! Audrey, are you mad?” - -“Really, mamma, to hear you talk one would think that none of us had -ever been out with gentlemen alone. What harm will they do her? She’ll -be as safe with them as she would with you. I’m sure they can be -trusted. As the child says, she hasn’t had much fun; let her enjoy the -streak that’s come her way. Now, Norah, in you go, and remember what I -told you, trample on them for all you’re worth! And have a really good -time, my dear! And, mamma, you come upstairs with me.” - -She pulled me down to her, and kissed me. We were not a kissing -family--most emphatically not among ourselves! And to be kissed by -Audrey, at such a moment! It had almost the same effect on me which -mine had on Jane; only fortunately I had more sense than she had, and -could exercise some self-control. - -Mamma went up the stairs with Audrey, as meek as a lamb--everybody -gives in to Audrey--and I went into the drawing-room, conscious of a -strong, and most unwonted disposition to be peacocky. - -They rushed at me the moment I showed my nose inside the door--all -five. - -“You have kept us waiting,” began Mr Hammond. “I said at a quarter-to, -sharp!” - -“And with dinner ordered punctually at seven,” went on the Major. “And -with fish which will resent an instant’s delay.” - -I resolved to put a stop to that sort of thing at once. I waved them -back with Audrey’s fan--she had lent me a beautiful black one, real -lace. I felt equal to five thousand men at least, and quite capable of -acting on the hint which she had dropped. - -“Please don’t come so close. I don’t like being crowded.” - -Mr Hammond proceeded to push the others back with his huge arms. - -“Now, you fellows, you annoy Miss Norah!” - -I caught his eye, and held it, in a fashion which, I fancy, caused him -some slight embarrassment. - -“Mr Hammond, you sent me a message by the maid.” - -“A message? Really? Me? I may have done.” - -“You expressed a desire that I should not keep you waiting. I do not -wish to do so. Please don’t wait.” - -“Miss Norah!--I--I don’t understand.” - -“I say, please don’t wait. Shall I ask Mr Carter to ring for the maid -to open the door?” - -“Miss Norah!” - -His jaw dropped open. He displayed such unmistakeable signs of -confusion, as well as contrition, that I proceeded to forgive him, in -my own way. - -“I am not accustomed to being requested by gentlemen not to keep them -waiting. Those whose acquaintance I care to have are only too glad to -consider my convenience, they never dream of expecting me to consider -theirs.” - -It was a dreadful story. And a horrid thing to say as well. But -Audrey’s words were in my ears, I was bent on trampling. I had been -trampled on so long. - -“So, if for any reason whatever you feel disposed to ask me to -consider your convenience, pray say so at once, and Mr Carter will -ring for the maid to open the door.” - -Never was man more profusely apologetic. To see him cringing--it -really amounted to cringing--was a novel sensation for me. Never had a -man apologised to me before--at least, to the best of my recollection -and belief. - -“I am sure, Miss Norah, I beg ten thousand pardons. Nothing further -from my mind than to consider myself, in any way; only too proud and -happy to be allowed to consider you; quite a mistake if anything can -have induced you to suppose the contrary. Fact is, I was thinking of -the Major’s dinner.” - -“The Major’s dinner? What about the Major’s dinner?” - -“He ordered it at seven.” - -“Did he? And how does that interest you?” - -“It doesn’t--not at all!--not in the slightest!--not in the very least -degree!--do assure you! Might I--might I venture to hope, Miss Norah, -that you--you--you’ll do me the honour of accepting these few -flowers?” - -Thereupon they all came crowding round me again, each with a floral -offering. - -“Did I not ask you not to come too close? I do not care to be -conscious of another person’s proximity.” They slunk back, like dogs -before a whip. “I see, Mr Hammond, that you have camellias. I don’t -like camellias. I think they’re vulgar. You might put them on the -table. Nor do I care for stephanotis, I am obliged to you, Major -Tibbet. Thank you, Mr Rumford, I have had some roses given me this -afternoon, already. You might put them with the other flowers on the -table. You are very good, Mr Purchase, but obviously Parma violets do -not go with black. They suggest mourning. You can hardly wish me to go -into mourning at the prospect of spending part of an evening with you. -I am not sure, Mr Carter, that I care for lilies-of-the-valley either. -They are not quite so bad as camellias, but they are a little wooden. -Don’t you think so? Stay! Let me look at them. After all, they do go -with black. Perhaps I will wear them, since there is nothing else to -wear.” - -Even in my then mood it did seem incredible that they should endure my -impertinence--worse, my ingratitude--and never show a sign of -resentment. But something seemed to tell me that I might say and do -exactly what I pleased, and they would still crouch at my feet, ready -to endure anything rather than that I should not notice them at all. I -was beginning, already, to understand what it is which makes a woman -love the sense of power, the consciousness of being able to do as she -likes with men. As is the case, I have heard, with some beggars on -horseback, I was disposed to ride my steed for all it was worth, with -cruel and scandalous disregard of the possibility of the poor brute’s -breaking down upon the road. - -Pulling Mr Carter’s carefully-arranged little nosegay to pieces I -tossed some of the lilies aside and pinned the rest against my -bodice--the five watching me with a queer sort of speechlessness, -which nearly moved me to laughter. - -“Now, let me understand what the programme is for this evening. Aren’t -we to have some dinner?” - -Major Tibbet held both hands out in front of him as he replied: - -“I have ordered dinner at the King’s Restaurant--a sumptuous dinner, -Miss Norah--at seven--exactly! It is already a quarter past--it will -be spoilt!” - -“Will it? Then we will dine elsewhere.” - -“Dine elsewhere?” - -“Certainly. Where we are not likely to encounter black looks, and -excuses, because we choose to be a little late.” - -“But--I shall have to pay in any case.” - -“Shall you? Mr Rumford, where do you propose that we shall dine?” - -He displayed a feeling for his fellow of which I chose to show myself -incapable. - -“Well, Miss Norah, I gathered that the Major had arranged to dine at -the King’s.” - -“At seven. But we can’t eat a seven-o’clock dinner at half-past; we -want to have something fit to eat. Have you nothing, Mr Hammond, to -suggest?” - -“I suggest, Miss Norah, what you suggest--absolutely. Entirely in your -hands--only too delighted.” - -“And you, Mr Purchase, what do you say?” - -“I would remind you, Miss Norah, that you accepted Major Tibbet’s -invitation to dine at the King’s.” - -“Indeed! When you are a little older, Mr Purchase, you will learn that -women sometimes change their minds.” He was about ten years older than -I was, and had perhaps had ten times as much experience; but those -were trifles light as air. “Are you void of ideas, Mr Carter?” - -“You must dine at the King’s Restaurant, Miss Norah.” - -“Must? You use rather an odd word. Must?” - -“Perhaps I had better have said that you will dine at the King’s -Restaurant, Miss Norah. Having made an engagement, a lady keeps it.” - -After the way in which he--indeed, in which they all--had behaved, the -idea of his talking to me like that was good. Taking no notice of him, -whatever, I crossed to Mr Hammond. - -“You appear to be the most agreeable and obliging person present. Will -you give me some dinner at Dupont’s? I never have dined at Dupont’s, -but have often thought that I should like to.” - -“Too charmed--only too charmed!” - -“Thank you so much. These gentlemen can dine with Major Tibbet at the -King’s, where we’ll hope that they’ll enjoy their meal.” - -I took the arm which Mr Hammond offered, and the others came rushing -to the front. Mr Carter, in particular, was most eloquent. - -“Miss Norah, what have we done that you should desert us? You promised -that you would be our guest--our co-guest.” - -I put into my voice and words as much impertinence as I possibly -could. - -“I like your manners so little that I really cannot fancy you as one -of my hosts, Mr Carter.” - -“I only ventured to remind you that you had accepted----” - -“No excuses, or explanations; I dislike both. If I consent to still -suffer you near me, please understand that to-night I am above the -law. My whims are to be paramount; my most transitory wish your chief -desire. I may change my mind a hundred times; each time you’re at once -to change yours too. Nor are you to so much as hint that I was ever in -another mind. It does not follow because I tell Mr Hammond that I’ll -dine with him at Dupont’s that I will--or that I’ll dine at all. In -five minutes I may be in fifty moods. If you desire to question any -one of them, please do not inflict your company on me. It is not the -manner which I care for in a host of mine. Mr Hammond, at the present -moment I am disposed to dine with you at Dupont’s. If these gentlemen -choose, and know how to behave, it may be that they can dine there -too.” - -I went out of the room on Mr Hammond’s arm. The others came after us, -with faces which were a little black. It was just possible that Major -Tibbet was thinking of the bill which he would have to pay for the -uneaten dinner at the King’s Restaurant. I have heard that for quite -ordinary repasts their charges were enormous. Under the circumstances -it could not have been pleasant for him to reflect that he had -commanded them to do their very best. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - THE DINNER WHICH FAILED - -It was rather a shock to discover that I was expected to travel with -those five men in an omnibus. It was one of the private sort, and -there were two men in livery; but it was an omnibus. I quite started -when I got outside the front-door and saw it there. - -“Dear me!” I exclaimed. “Am I supposed to ride in an omnibus? I can’t -bear omnibuses.” - -Mr Hammond was inclined to stammer. - -“It’s--it’s--it’s a private omnibus.” - -“Is it? How interesting. Am I intended to consider that fact -interesting? Was I expected to take it for granted that I should be -required to ride in a public omnibus, among the penny fares?” - -Mr Hammond was inclined to stammer still more. - -“Fact is, six rather awkward number--never heard of a carriage that -would hold them all.” - -“Two might have gone on the box, or even three. Then there is such a -thing as a coach. A coach holds six.” - -“Coach and four?” - -“Or even a coach and three, if four was considered extravagant.” - -“Idea of coaching to dinner in town never struck me. Don’t know why. -Sporting notion--very. Afraid it would take some time to get one now.” - -“Since you were so careless as not to have one ready, I cannot -possibly wait while you repair your negligence. I must endeavour to -make the best of your private omnibus.” - -It is some distance from Kensington to Dupont’s Restaurant--which is, -of course, in Regent Street--so that it took some time to drive. I do -not know what kind of thing those five men had been looking forward -to, but it was some satisfaction to feel that I was making each one of -them about as uncomfortable as he could be made. I was in a pretty -mood--I really was. It was amazing that they did not get out in a -body, and leave me to occupy that omnibus all by myself. I had heard -of what men will endure from some women. I had an object-lesson then. -I knew, somehow, that it made no difference how I treated them. They -would still be my humble, obedient, devoted slaves. When a girl has -that feeling, for the very first time, it is a little tempting. - -I decided that they were not a bad good-looking crowd. No girl need be -ashamed of being seen with them. Mr Carter and Mr Purchase were -distinctly handsome--though they were looking glum. Walter Hammond was -not so bad, though he was lanky. As he would himself have phrased it, -there was a sporting something about him of the right sort. Then his -clothes fitted him as mine never would fit me; and when he had his -eyeglass in his eye he looked quite striking. Mr Rumford was a trifle -puffy, and he suggested trade--though nothing quite so bad as Aunt -Jane’s Jalap. But then he was so plainly redolent of money that he -passed muster. And then Major Tibbet was obviously someone--if only -because he looked such a little horror. - -Conversation languished. That was owing to me. When we had gone some -distance Mr Rumford took out his watch. - -“I am afraid we shall be late for the theatre. Piece begins at eight. -Half-past seven now.” - -“I presume that we have reserved seats. As they will be retained for -us it doesn’t matter what time we occupy them.” - -“Quite so--only, it disturbs the audience going in in the middle of -the piece.” - -“Really?” - -That remark, from me, put a period to that topic. It made it so clear -that to me it was a matter of the most complete indifference whether -the audience was, or was not, disturbed. As a rule, I think it is -horrid for people to come in late--so ill-bred--it upsets everyone. -But I had a point of view for that night only. - -I made another observation, when it seemed that you could have cut -with a knife the silence which ensued. - -“Is this a funeral party? Has the weight of our feelings made us dumb? -Can’t any of you say something?” - -That kind of remark always afflicts people’s tongues with a sort of -paralysis. I was perfectly well aware of it. That was why I made it. -They stumbled through some idiotic efforts to clothe with words ideas -which they did not happen to possess just then. Then I created a -diversion. - -“I believe I would rather not dine at Dupont’s. I think I’ve heard -stories about it which show that it is not quite the place for ladies. -It seems strange that Mr Hammond should have made the suggestion.” - -“Excuse me, Miss Norah, the suggestion----” - -“Yes?” - -I knew that he was about to say that it came from me. But I stopped -him in time. Then he stopped himself--rather neatly. - -“The suggestion--was--only a suggestion.” - -“It is a pity that it got even as far as a suggestion. Can you not -tell us of some place, Mr Rumford, where it’s respectable?” - -“They feed you decently at the Imperial.” - -“Then by all means let us go where they feed you decently.” - -So we descended at the Imperial Hotel. We asked for a private room. -There was an entrance hall, with a good many people in it. As we -passed through we roused rather a sensation. I do not think that the -women admired me--they could not possibly like my dress, nobody could, -and there was nothing else about me to like--but on some of the men I -believe I made an impression, of rather a peculiar kind. Of course I -never looked at any of them. A lady never looks at a strange man. I -hope I never should forget myself to that extent. But I noticed them -all the same; and they all of them looked at me, in some cases in a -somewhat singular way. Some of them had ladies with them; and in those -cases I was convinced that the ladies--who were a thousand times -better dressed than I was, and were so much prettier--did not entirely -relish the manner in which their attendant cavaliers were eyeing me. -And I suspected that my five men did not altogether like it either; so -that it was rather amusing on the whole. - -The dinner was not a complete success. I really could not say it was, -especially at the beginning. To commence with, Mr Purchase and Mr -Carter did not put in an appearance in that private room for two or -three minutes after us, and I had a kind of persuasion that they had -remained behind to say a few words to two gentlemen who had regarded -me with marked attention. When they came Mr Purchase looked red and Mr -Carter white. I wondered what had passed, and should have liked to -have made inquiries. But at the moment I did not see how I could do so -with appropriate delicacy. - -There seemed to be a spirit of mischief in that private room which was -bent on setting us at cross purposes. They showed a tendency to snap -at each other’s noses, which, remembering that I was the only lady -present, was not nice manners; though, of course, it had its -entertaining side. An imposing personage--a manager, or head waiter, -or something--had followed us into the room, and with a tablet in his -hand, stood prepared to take our orders, which it seemed that nobody -was quite prepared to give. There was a general disinclination to -order the various dishes which together go to make a dinner, which was -slightly embarrassing, and was the cause of some little discussion. -Under the circumstances, I cannot see how the imposing personage was -to blame for taking the matter a good deal out of their hands. Even if -he did it with a certain air of deference to me, I cannot admit that -he ignored them altogether, or that he drew up the plan of a dinner in -which they were not suffered to have a voice. Therefore when, having -completed the order for the meal, he withdrew, I was astonished to -hear the remarks of which he was the subject. Major Tibbet drew -himself to his full height--which, after all, is not much--blew his -nose--which I do not believe required blowing--and flourished his -handkerchief--which was of salmon-coloured silk--in the air. - -“Fellow’s too big for his place!” - -To my surprise the others followed in a chorus which pointed to their -being, for the first time, in agreement with the Major. - -“A good deal too big,” declared Mr Rumford; “and he forgets his -place.” - -“Too much mouth,” was Mr Hammond’s cryptic utterance. “Wants riding on -the snaffle.” - -Mr Purchase’s comment was easier to understand; and, perhaps, on that -very account, more acidulated. - -“Some of the jacks-in-office you meet in places of this sort are -insufferable.” - -Mr Carter echoed him, with an addition of his own. - -“The amazing part of it is the way in which they are suffered.” - -“But,” I observed, with all the innocence at my command, “why are you -finding fault with him? I thought him most attentive.” - -“There is such a thing,” returned the Major, seesawing himself on his -toes and heels in a way I hate, “especially in a fellow in his -position, as being too attentive.” - -“But I thought that it was the special business of persons in his -position to be attentive, that that was what they were there for, and -that the more attentive they were the better.” - -“There are ways _and_ ways of being attentive, Miss Norah.” - -This was Mr Carter. He looked really angry. I had not a notion why. - -“I rather liked his way,” I said. - -I could see that words were trembling on Mr Carter’s lips. The five -exchanged glances, the meaning of which was beyond my comprehension. -The door opened; in came the imposing personage followed by two of his -understrappers. Mr Carter looked him full in the face. - -“You needn’t wait.” - -The personage seemed surprised, as was not unnatural. - -“Pardon me, sir, I am the manager of the private rooms.” - -“I say that you need not wait.” - -“Very well, sir, as you please; but I am no waiter.” - -Yet he acted as if he were a waiter, which did seem a little -impertinent. But he managed with such dexterity, that, without an -actual scene, it would have been difficult to keep him out of the -room. - -People in his position nearly always are good-looking, after a fashion -of their own, which is a fashion I detest. As regards looks he was -certainly up to the average of his kind; indeed, I should have said a -good deal above it, only the expression of opinion would not have been -popular just then. He was an enormous man, perhaps six foot three or -four, with tremendous width across the chest, and the most magnificent -moustache. It was the finest moustache I had ever seen, and curled up -at the ends in a way which made you keep on wondering how he did it. -He had fair hair which curled naturally, and was parted in the middle, -and the bluest eyes. Of course he was a German; and when you paused to -think that his compatriots could afford to allow such a man as he was -to go abroad and be a waiter, and never notice his absence, then you -began to understand how it is that Germany bids fair to take her stand -in the highest places. - -At the same time, his conduct did make the position seem a trifle -strained, even more strained than it would have been without him, -which was saying something. He might call himself the manager of the -private rooms; but, despite Mr Carter, he succeeded in combining with -his management a good deal of personal attention to me,--and that with -an air which reminded me irresistibly of the shop-walker and the -barber; and which I saw quite plainly brought my own five men nearly -to the boiling point. - -For my own part, I do not care what I eat. But when I am eating I do -not like to feel that at any moment plates may be thrown about. I had -the feeling throughout that dinner. A note of discord was in the air, -in fact, several notes. My companions grumbled at all the dishes, -regardless of my presence. They reviled the meal as a whole, and in -its several parts, declining to admit that it had a single redeeming -feature. One is bound to confess that that private room manager’s -demeanour was in striking contrast to that of his guests. They did -nearly everything, short of throwing things at his head. He, on the -other hand, was imperturbability itself; to me, the soul of -politeness. And though he looked as if he could have knocked all their -heads together, he listened to the nasty things they said--and they -said some nasty ones--with a smile which never faltered for a single -second. - -The climax came with the bill. Major Tibbet approached the subject in -a style which I had not supposed was customary when a lady was -present. - -“I suppose we are going to the theatre; and its certainly no use our -lingering over this travesty of a Christian meal. I must apologise to -you, Miss Norah, for what you have suffered; but I trust you will do -me the justice to admit that the fault is hardly mine.” - -“Thank you; I have enjoyed my dinner very much.” - -“Dinner? You call it dinner? Really, Miss Norah, you allow your -goodness of heart to carry you too far. I don’t know which was worse, -the food itself, the way in which it was prepared, or the service.” - -They followed one after the other. - -“The service in particular was bad.” - -“Shocking. Never saw worse. Stable boy could have done better.” - -“Perhaps we have been unfortunate in our attendants.” - -“There is no perhaps in the case. We have been.” - -Then came my postscript. - -“I thought the service excellent.” - -“To have pleased madame is very much.” - -That manager of the private rooms favoured me with a bow and a smile, -for which--from the expression of their countenances--I should -scarcely have been surprised if they had attacked him tooth and nail. -The Major spluttered. - -“I suppose there is something to pay--though we have had practically -nothing. Waiter,”--with an accent on the “waiter,”--“let us know at -once what there is to pay.” - -The personage retired, presently to return with a document which he -placed before the Major. The Major’s face at sight of it was a study. - -“What! This! For such a meal! Monstrous, absolutely monstrous! Rank -robbery, nothing else.” - -He passed the document round the table. By each it was commented on -with equal freedom, which was nice for me, who had consumed the repast -to the charge for which my hosts objected to with so much vigour. The -imposing personage’s attitude made it even nicer. - -“These gentlemen object to the bill?” - -“Object? I should think we do object. We object very much to being -robbed.” - -“If these gentlemen do not wish to pay the bill they need not. We -shall not try to make them, not at all. We will make them a present of -the food, the wine, the service, everything. Only--they will not be -served in the house again.” - -That, as I have said, was the climax. The bill was paid. My hosts did -not propose to allow themselves to be regarded as recipients of -charity. That manager of the private rooms showed, as I quitted the -apartment, that his temper was still unruffled. - -“Madame will permit that I offer her a flower.” - -He held out a white rose. I placed it among Basil Carter’s -lilies-of-the-valley. I sincerely trusted that Audrey had never seen -such an expression on Mr Carter’s face. To me it looked like murder. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - THE BROWN MAN - -I was enjoying myself pretty fairly, taking it altogether. I wished -I was better dressed. It made me wild to see women in such lovely -things. Not that I envied them their clothes. I can safely say that -about a good many of them, that was all there was to envy; and, after -all, clothes are not quite everything. But it was disgusting that I -should be so dowdy. And the consciousness was forcing itself on me -momentarily more and more, that Jane’s shoes were tight, even for -shoes. Still, there were alleviations. It was not so unpleasant as one -might think, to feel that five grown men were hanging on your -skirts--even if they were not in the latest fashion--as if it was -painful to be more than a yard or so away from you. The ill-concealed -fury with which they resented the interest which I roused in the -breasts of other men was not without its amusing side. - -There could be no doubt that I did arouse interest, not the very -slightest. As we passed through the hall to the omnibus--that -undignified vehicle!--I accidentally dropped Audrey’s fan--at least, -almost accidentally. I ought not to have dropped it, because it was a -lovely fan, and it was awfully good of Audrey to lend it me, and it -might have been damaged by the fall. But it was not; it fell on the -carpet, and was not hurt a bit. And I could not help but drop it. The -men of the hall looked at me in one kind of queer way, and the women -looked at me in another, so I felt bound to try an experiment; and -down went the fan. - -The result was most surprising. In an instant every male creature -there came rushing to pick it up, guests and attendants. It was so -odd; and not the least odd part of it was the faces of the women. I -doubt if some of them had ever been more astonished in their lives -before, or angrier. For every one of them to be deserted, without a -moment’s warning, for a dowdily-dressed girl’s fan--and, oh dear! I -did not need their critical glances to tell me I was dowdy--was a -trifle marked. There was quite a scramble to pick up Audrey’s fan. It -ran more risk of being damaged in the scrimmage than by the fall. - -“I am sorry to give you all so much trouble,” I murmured. - -But they did not seem to mind in the least. They appeared, if -anything, to like it. - -The fan was returned to me by a man who was really better-looking than -that manager of the private rooms--at least, in my opinion. And he had -as fine a moustache, though there was not such an ostentatious -quantity of it, and it stood out straight at either end in the -daintiest way. He was what I should call a brown man, with a pair of -eyes which positively laughed at you. He had on a white waistcoat, -which fitted him like a glove, and was both a dandy and a man. - -He stood in front of me, with Audrey’s fan in his hand, and something -in his eyes which sent a thrill all over. I fancy it must have been -because he looked so masterful. - -“It is very good of you to take so much trouble. I am very awkward.” - -“I am very fortunate.” - -That was all he said. I do not think I ever heard a more musical voice -in a man. With a graceful movement of his handsome head he handed me -the fan. But he did not move. And, somehow, I did not seem to mind his -continuing to stand there with his eyes looking into mine. But my -escort did. The Major began to fuss. - -“Now, are we going to that theatre or are we not? Because, if we are, -we shall have to make haste if we want to get there before the piece -is over.” - -The procession continued towards the door, the men giving way to let -us pass, following me with their eyes in a manner which was -pronounced. I was conscious that the women also were following me with -their eyes, in a manner which was equally pronounced, in an entirely -different sense. I knew they were picking me to pieces, failing to see -anything in me of any sort or kind, and disapproving of me most -heartily. But I was also aware that the brown man was coming after us -towards the door. As we were climbing into the omnibus he stood on the -top of the steps, out in the open street, and watched us. When Mr -Hammond told the coachman to drive to the Gaiety Theatre I felt sure -he heard. He gave a little inclination of his head as we drove off -which as good as said he did. - -In the omnibus the atmosphere was not less charged with electricity -than it had been before. Indeed, I should have said that it even more -inclined to give off sparks. As soon as we had started, Mr Carter -observed, with his very sweetest air: - -“There seem to be a great many impertinent persons about to-night.” - -I knew he had the brown man in his mind’s eye. He had glared at him -throughout. - -“One does meet impertinent persons sometimes. Occasionally one even -goes out with them.” - -He looked as if he could have said a good deal, but he managed to -refrain. The others, apparently, were warned by his fate; they joined -him in an ominous silence. So I went on, sweetly: - -“What a handsome man that head-waiter was, wasn’t he? And wasn’t he -big? I couldn’t see what fault you had to find with him, I thought he -was most attentive; and it was nice of him to give me this rose. One -values small attentions from persons in his position.” - -I thought that that most innocent remark would have had the effect of -a lighted match dropped into a barrel of gunpowder. But I was -mistaken. They all, with one accord, persisted in saying nothing at -all. I knew that they thought the more. Still, their dumbness had an -effect which was disconcerting. I was just beginning to wonder if I -was to spend the evening in the society of a company of deaf-mutes, -when a remark from Mr Hammond loosed their tongues in earnest. - -“By the way, about sitting in the theatre, you’ll sit with me first, -won’t you, Miss Norah? Now say you will?” - -Mr Rumford interposed, before I could reply: - -“That sort of thing is contrary to our agreement, Mr Hammond, entirely -contrary. Personal appeals were expressly forbidden. We arranged the -order in which the sitting was to be; and by that arrangement you -undertook to stand.” - -“That’s all very well, but according to that arrangement she was to -sit first with you.” - -“Precisely. Which makes my astonishment the greater that you should -attempt to upset it.” - -“And afterwards with Purchase.” - -Then came Mr Purchase’s turn. - -“Quite so; after sitting for twenty minutes with Mr Rumford.” - -“And then with Carter.” - -“Perfectly correct.” This Mr Carter. “Unfortunately, Miss Norah, I -have not been able to get another box. So we have agreed that I shall -remain outside Purchase’s box while he enjoys your company, and that -then he shall go down to Mr Rumford’s stall when my turn comes.” - -“There promises to be a good deal of transferring,” I observed. -“Something like not having more than one dance with a single partner.” - -“And afterwards,” continued the injured Mr Hammond, “Miss Norah is to -sit with Tibbet.” - -“And I shall be only too charmed to have her,” simpered the Major. -“Better late than never. Only unluckily, Miss Norah, I’m in an almost -worse plight than Mr Carter, inasmuch as I have only succeeded in -procuring two seats, in what, I am given to understand, is called the -upper circle--wretched places in the clouds.” - -“They’re not seats in which a lady ought to be asked to sit, certain -fact.” - -“Then,” suggested Mr Rumford, “when it is the Major’s turn, you might -let him have your two stalls.” - -“Capital notion, Mr Rumford, excellent. I am sure that Mr Hammond will -be only too delighted.” - -Mr Hammond might be delighted, but he did not show it. He preferred to -air a grievance which evidently lay heavy on his mind. - -“What I have to say is this. When we made the arrangement you’re all -so keen about, it was understood that we should be in the theatre by -eight. But it’s now past nine.” - -“We are hardly to blame for that.” - -“Don’t say you are--don’t say anyone’s to blame,--only stating a fact. -But as things are, it comes to this--that, by the time you’ve all had -your turns, the performance will be over, and then where shall I be? -That’s what I want to know.” - -“A bargain is a bargain, Mr Hammond; and when one is signed and sealed -one generally has to adhere to it.” - -“It may be a bargain for you, Rumford, but don’t call it a bargain for -me. The entire arrangement was based on the presumption that we should -be in the theatre at eight o’clock, and, as we’re not, then the whole -thing falls to the ground.” - -“An astounding proposition, Mr Hammond! A most astounding -proposition!” - -Then they all began to talk at once, in tones which did not suggest -that they would quickly arrive at a clear and amicable common -understanding. It struck me that it was about time for me to say a -word. So I said one. - -“It seems to me, if I may be allowed to speak--and I really don’t care -to hear people bawling in an omnibus, at least not more than two or -three at once, unless I am first permitted to get out--I say that it -seems to me that you are drawing up the programme of how I am to spend -the evening without the slightest reference to my wishes. So far as I -understand I am to be passed round and round the theatre, as if I were -an old shoe, in a sort of game of hunt-the-slipper.” - -“Say, rather, like some priceless jewel, which each desires to -regard--though only for a few fleeting moments--as his own.” - -“That may sound prettier, Mr Purchase, but the idea does not appeal to -me, and I’m not fond of trotting in and out of stalls and boxes.” - -“But the arrangement was made, Miss Norah.” - -“Really, Mr Carter, you seem to have arrangements on the brain. Have I -not already told you that I care nothing for arrangements, whether -made or unmade? You are taking me to the theatre at a ridiculously -late hour. I cannot understand why you went through the farce of -asking me to go if you did not propose to get me there before the -performance was over. I exceedingly dislike arriving after the piece -has commenced. The least you could do was to manage matters so as to -ensure that I didn’t.” - -The pause which followed was instinct with the silence of -speechlessness. The audacity of my method of presenting the case took -those five men’s breath away. I looked into each of their faces with a -look which dared them to contradict me. And none of them dared. It was -delicious. The idea that if I chose to say that black was white I -could induce normally reasonable people to refrain from, at any rate -openly, attempting to demonstrate the contrary was a novel one. Yet I -could not but feel that such a power might become dangerous if it were -carried too far. It would not be pleasant for persons to be compelled -to regard chalk as cheese. - -I was not, however, disposed to consider that I had carried that power -too far as yet. So I continued my observations in a strain which was -intended to impress them with my conviction that I was the injured -party. - -“Since, owing to your curious method of managing affairs, so much of -the evening has been already wasted, all that remains is for you to do -your utmost to enable me to enjoy those portions of the performance -which we may still be in time to see.” - -“That is our one desire, Miss Norah; our one desire!” - -“If that is the case then you will not consider yourselves at all, you -will only consider me.” - -“How are we to do that, Miss Norah?” - -“By observing my wishes.” - -“What--wh--what are your wishes?” - -The question was asked with a faltering intonation which spoke -volumes. - -“They are very simple. It is plain that we cannot all sit together. It -is equally plain that you cannot agree as to how the division is to be -effected. I will solve the difficulty by telling you what are my own -wishes in the matter. If you have any regard for me, whatever, you -will observe them. Mr Purchase will sit in the stalls with Mr Hammond; -Mr Carter with Mr Rumford; Major Tibbet will have his two seats in the -upper circle to himself, and I will occupy the box--alone.” - -My proposal was not greeted with any greater warmth than I expected. I -never saw five blanker looking faces. - -“Miss Norah, you’re not--you’re not--very complimentary to us all.” - -“I did not intend to be. I did not know you brought me out to pay you -compliments.” - -“You’ve hit the nail in pointing out that you ought to consider the -box as yours, and only yours. That’s right enough. We’re pretty idiots -not to have seen it all along. But mayn’t some of us come up and talk -to you now and then?” - -“I’d rather you didn’t. You might spoil my enjoyment of what was -taking place upon the stage.” - -“Miss Norah!” - -“However, I have no desire to enjoy myself at your expense. So, when -we reach the theatre, you go to your seats--and ask the coachman to -drive me home.” - -As it happened, just then we reached the theatre. The door of the -omnibus was opened, and, almost before I knew it, I was being handed -out of it on to the pavement. It was all done so quickly that I really -had no time to remonstrate. Still less to carry the trampling process -to a further stage. Those five men had more ways of obtaining their -own ends than one might suppose. And when a brougham dashed up, and -the brown man sprang out of it, almost within a couple of feet of -where I was standing, in a manner of speaking I lost my head -completely. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - BEFORE THE CURTAIN - -There is more depth in a man than one might imagine. I am not sure -that that is exactly what I mean, but then I do not know how to -describe just what I do mean; it sometimes is so difficult. One thing -is certain, that a man does keep his presence of mind, and that not -always in a manner which he has any reason to consider creditable. I -am not able to state what happened with so much clearness as I should -wish, or, indeed, with any clearness at all. Under the circumstances, -to expect lucidity from me is out of the question. I know that I lost -my presence of mind. I have a vague impression that during the time I -was wholly without it, I was hurried somewhere, by some one, in a -manner which was beyond my comprehension. When I regained it, at least -in part--for I never did altogether during the entire remainder of -that evening; that I do most solemnly assert--I was in a seat, with a -stage in front of me, on which something was going on, and people all -round me, who were apparently in a state of dissatisfaction with -someone, about something. Voices were saying behind me: - -“Sit down in front!” - -I looked, and there, actually, was Walter Hammond settling himself in -a seat at my side. A gentleman on the other side of him leant forward -and said: - -“I don’t know if you’re aware that you’ve trodden on my hat, sir.” - -Mr Hammond’s manner did not betray the mental disturbance which his -reply suggested. - -“Frightfully sorry! Delighted to provide you with another, sir!” - -I was lost in amazement as to how I had come to be where I was; above -all, how he had come to be there too. Where were the four? How was it -that they had calmly acquiesced in my being whipped off from -underneath their very noses? Where was the brown man, and everything? -Some observations from Mr Hammond threw a little light upon the -matter, but not much. - -“Very neatly done--the riding did it--bad starters--left them at the -post--romped in before they knew we’d begun to make the running.” - -“Where,” I inquired, “are the others? And how is it that, after what I -have just now been saying, I find myself here?” - -“Question of jockeyship, Miss Norah. Good seat in the saddle--quick -hands--made up my mind you and I should be snug together.” - -“I wish to understand,” I began. - -“Will you pardon my pointing out to you, madam, that a lady is singing -on the stage?” - -Hardly had I opened my mouth than this remark, or question, or -whatever it was intended for, was addressed to me by a woman who -occupied the seat upon my left. There was not much of her, but she -made up in acidity--or it seemed as if she did--what she lacked in -size. The undressed portion of her--which was disproportionately -large--was covered with jewels. She looked to me to be about fifty, -though, I daresay, she would have given her age as thirty-five. Being -spoken to in such a fashion by a perfect stranger, and such a shrimp -of a thing, precipitated me back into the condition of mental -confusion from which I had just been emerging. When I myself get to a -theatre early, and am enjoying the performance, I hate people to come -in late. And when to that offence they add the capital crime of -talking out loud, or even in an audible whisper--and there is a -certain sort of whisper which is almost more audible than a shout--I -sometimes ask myself why they were not drowned when they were young. -In a mazy sort of mist I was disposed to wonder if other people could -possibly be asking themselves the same question about me. I became -hazily conscious that I was an object of general attention. People -were murmuring among themselves. I even suspected the performers on -the stage of regarding me with a malevolent eye. - -It was a painful situation. I could not stand up and explain to the -audience that it was not my fault I had entered in such a whirlwind -fashion, apparently in the very middle of a song. I could not tell -them that if I had had my way I should not have been there at all. -Still less could I rise up, then and there, and march straight out -again. All I could do was sit still, and burn. - -On the other hand, Mr Hammond showed not the slightest sign of -discomfiture. I was not only aware that he was smiling in a most -significant manner, but he went so far as to allow himself to touch me -with the point of his elbow, nudged me, in fact, with it in the side. -And he said: - -“Gay old kicker.” - -I do not pretend to be versed in stable slang, but it was impossible -to suppose that the phrase conveyed a compliment, especially as a -reference from a gentleman to a lady of ripened years--I should not -have been surprised if she had been more than fifty. Unfortunately, -the reference was as obvious as it was audible. I felt my next-door -neighbour draw herself up in a way which made a creepy-crawly feeling -go all over me. I looked at her with what was intended to be an air of -deprecation, and an intimation that I was in no way to be confounded -with that dreadful Walter Hammond. And as I did so I became conscious -that on the other side of her was a man--an old man, a very old man, -and, also, I am afraid, a wicked old man. He was big and bald, with a -red face, a weedy, white moustache, and an expression which I should -describe as a mixture of ferocity, depravity, and--though I am -reluctant to write it--drink. Picture my sensations when--as I turned -to the little woman, who, I fear, poor thing, was his wife; before I -really realised his presence, or how he was staring at me with his -great eyes: and, emphatically, before I had the dimmest suspicion of -what he was about to do--he winked at me--positively winked, not once, -nor twice, but thrice--ostentatiously, without the least attempt at -concealment. The little woman did not catch him in the act; goodness -only knows what would have happened if she had. What he meant by it, -or what he took me for, I have not the faintest notion. I was -beginning to wonder what everyone took me for. Although I know my face -became as red as fire, I went cold all over. Just then the singing on -the stage ceased, people broke into applause. In the midst of their -clapping I became aware that Walter Hammond was addressing me in a -strain which as nearly as possible deprived me of the small remainder -of my breath. - -Whether, under any circumstances, a reasonable being would have -supposed that that was a proper place, or a fitting moment, to enter -on a subject of the kind, I cannot say, but, considering that, to all -intents and purposes, we were strangers, and how he had treated me in -the days gone by--not to speak of the way in which he had behaved to -Eveleen--his doing so, then and there, was--well, beyond anything. I -was so bewildered, and the people made such a noise, and he had such a -queer way of expressing himself, that at first I did not understand -what he was after. - -“Don’t believe in entering a filly unless you mean running her to -win.” I repeat that I have no pretension whatever to an acquaintance -with the language of the turf; so that if there is anything muddled -about his metaphors as I repeat them, I presume that the fault is -mine. “If I had my way should always penalise entries which weren’t on -the job. Whenever I’m in I’m there to win. That’s me, Miss Norah, -straight. I’m no mole--always do what I do do out in the open--no -burrowing for me. When I go for a mark, I aim for all I’m worth. Same -with a girl. Mayn’t seem like a marrying man--have been told I’m like -a cock, hard to bag. As girls go, small wonder they only bag crocks. -But when I’m in for marriage, I mean getting there--there’s no -stopping me--foul riding couldn’t do it--and there’s no fear of foul -riding from you, because you’re different from any girl I ever met. -Miss Norah, I love you!” - -As ill luck would have it the applause died away just as he uttered -those words--and just as I was approaching the dumfounded stage. An -encore had been conceded; the singer was preparing to re-commence, -when Mr Hammond delivered himself of that paralysing piece of -information in a tone of voice which had been designed to reach my -ears in spite of the din, and which rose above the sudden silence in a -sort of roar. In consequence, those fatal words--“Miss Norah, I love -you!”--must have been heard all over the stalls, by nearly everyone in -the pit, and by goodness knows who else besides. It was delightful for -me. I should have liked to have sunk into the ground. A voice came -from somewhere at the back--a vulgar voice. - -“You’re quite right, sir; and so say all of us; we all love Norah.” - -Giggles came from every side. Regardless of what I felt, that -extraordinary man did not seem to care in the least what anybody -thought of him. Merely dropping his voice a tone or two, he actually -went straight on: - -“Never mind those beggars--time’s precious--must make the running -while you can. I say, Miss Norah, that I love you.” - -A gentleman in the row of stalls behind us leant forward, thrusting -his head between Mr Hammond’s and mine, and observed--think of it!-- - -“We have heard you say so once already, sir. Would you mind postponing -the repetition of the statement till after the singer has finished. We -are waiting to hear the song?” - -So far from being nonplussed, or disconcerted, or ashamed, or anything -he ought to have been, all that Mr Hammond did do was to adjust his -monocle more securely in his eye, and to look at the stage. Seeing -that the fact was as stated, and that somebody was about to sing, he -apparently appreciated the reasonableness of the stranger’s request, -and held his peace; and the singer sang. - -What she sang about--she was one of those lovely ladies whom you do -find at the Gaiety--I have not an idea. All my ideas were gone. I was -more than speechless. There was Walter Hammond, sitting all at once as -if he had been carved out of stone, glaring at the stage as if he took -not the slightest interest in what was taking place on it. The man -behind, when making that unutterably impertinent remark, had slipped a -scrap of paper over my shoulder, unnoticed, I presume, by Mr Hammond, -and, I hope, by everyone else. It had slid down my bare neck, and had -lodged in the top of my bodice. That wicked old person who sat on the -other side of the little woman kept his beetroot-coloured face turned -almost constantly in my direction; when I moved so much as an eyelash -in his, he winked. Short of provoking a scandalous scene, I did not -see what I could do to stop it, even if I had had my senses -sufficiently about me to do anything, which I really had not. For, -endeavouring to avoid his winks, my glances reached a box which was, -so to speak, on the other side of the top of his bald head. In it was -the brown man. He was standing up in the centre of it, well to the -front. Although he shared the box with a lady, he did not allow her -presence to deter him in the least. So soon as he caught my eye, he -inclined his head in my direction in the most noticeable way, as if we -had been quite old friends. The lady, who was young and pretty, and -most beautifully dressed, was sitting down on his right, an -opera-glass before her eyes, pointed straight at me. When he presumed -to bestow on me that movement of recognition, she put down her glass -and smiled, and, unless I was mistaken, nodded at me. I was convinced -that I had never seen her in my life before. What did she mean? and -what did he mean? and what should I do? - -Of course, noticing his impertinence was out of the question, though -he did look so distinguished standing up there in his beautiful white -waistcoat, really my ideal of a handsome man. To avoid him, and to -mark my sense of his misconduct, I turned my head right round, so that -my glance lighted on the box which was exactly opposite the one in -which he was. - -It was occupied by the four men. - -They were standing up, all in a row. At one end, a little back, was Mr -Rumford. He had his hands in his pockets. On his face was an -expression which hardly betokened enjoyment of the actors’ and -actresses’ efforts to amuse. Next to him was Basil Carter, to whom, -from what I had understood, the box belonged. He was apparently not in -the best of tempers. Resting his hands on the edge of the box, he -glared, first at Mr Hammond, then at me, then at the brown man over -the way. I could not honestly assert that he looked pleasantly at -either of us. I had learned a good deal about his temper since leaving -home. I wondered if Audrey had an inkling of what sort of one he -really had. Beside him was Jack Purchase. His arms were crossed upon -his chest in what I imagine that he perhaps supposed was a tragic -attitude. It reminded me of the pictures in the novelettes which I -used to read when I was little--“Lady Lucy’s Lingering Love,” and that -sort of thing. They were rather fond of giving illustrations of -gentlemen with their arms folded across their chests; and there was -something in his face which was a good deal like what used to be on -theirs. He looked alternately at the brown man and Mr Hammond as if he -would have liked to eat them, though, I daresay, that that was not the -impression which the look was intended to convey. With the fingers of -one hand he held the brim of his crush hat. Personally, I should not -have been a bit surprised if it had come spinning down at Mr Hammond -at my side, or if it had gone whirling through the air at the brown -man opposite. If he could have used it as a boomerang, and flung it at -both, it is my private impression that, in spite of the scandal it -would have occasioned, he would have done it. I never saw two men in -worse tempers than he and Mr Carter seemed to be just then. - -At the further end of the row, completing the quartette, was little -Major Tibbet. He was really a pitiable figure. What, I suspect, was -his partial consciousness of the fact made it more obvious still. He -kept fidgeting from foot to foot, touching himself furtively here and -there, as if he doubted if everything was right. And it was not. He -seemed to have been in the wars. His wig was on one side, one eyebrow -was not only smudgy, but distinctly higher than the other, and -something dreadful had happened to his complexion. An earthquake, or -some similar cataclysm, seemed to have cracked it, so that on one side -of his face quite a large patch of it was missing. - -I could not but feel that mamma would not have liked to have seen him -in his then condition. She is so particular about men’s appearance, -especially those whom she honours with her acquaintance. And if she -has the faintest suspicion that her own transformation is in the very -slightest degree out of the straight, she nearly worries herself into -a fit. What would she have felt if she had seen the singular angle at -which the Major’s wig was poised? - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - AN UNREHEARSED EFFECT - -I would have given the world to have been able to rise from my seat, -leave the theatre, and go straight home. But the power to do it was -not in me. I knew there was a storm in the air. I felt it about me on -every side. I am sure I am not a nervous person, as a rule. But just -then I was simply a bundle of nerves; on tenterhooks all the time as -to what was going to happen next. And then Jane’s shoes were -inflicting such agonies on my unfortunate feet that I would have -slipped them off had it not been for the conviction that I should -never be able to get into them again if I did; and what would happen -if I had to march out of the theatre in my crimson-stockinged feet? In -such a case, would it be more dignified to carry Jane’s shoes with me -in my hand, or to leave them behind me on the floor? - -That pretty lady on the stage finished her encored song, and I had not -caught a word or a note!--and generally I do not allow a single thing -to escape me. Under cover of the clapping, an attendant handed Mr -Hammond a note. I knew in an instant who it was from, if only by the -eagerness with which the four in the box observed the manner of its -reception. Not that I looked at them. I looked at no one, I did not -dare, keeping my eyes fixed as much as possible on vacancy. For, -wherever I looked, there was some presumptuous man who looked back at -me in a manner which was simply indescribable. But one need not look -to see; and I was quite aware that each of those four men was leaning -as far over the edge of the box as was consistent with safety, in -order that they might have the earliest possible information of the -adventures of that missive. - -They soon had it. Mr Hammond rent the envelope open; took out a -card--something told me it was Basil Carter’s--read what was written -on the back of it, and tore it into shreds, which he dropped between -his knees. - -“No answer,” he said to the attendant, “except that you can tell ’em -to go to blazes.” - -Then, as if such language was a matter of no consequence, he turned to -me, continuing his previous most extraordinary remarks, completely -regardless of the performance on the stage, and of the people all -around us, too. - -“Frightfully sorry to seem to rush you, Miss Norah. Fact is, when -judge’s box is within a furlong, if you don’t want to get left behind, -you’re bound to bustle. I’ve got it all on this time--every -copper--must bar taking chances--a certainty is what I’m after. A -certainty it is, if you’ll consent. Let’s put our piles together--come -in with me on the same horse--Matrimony, out of True Love, by -Unbounded Admiration. She’s the mare to carry two as if they were one; -and if you ride her with a gentle hand, she keeps on winning all the -time. Miss Norah, say that it’s a go.” - -I suppose, looking back, that that extraordinary speech was intended -to be regarded as a proposal of marriage. I do not see, now, what else -it could have been meant for. But I did not see it then. Considering -the circumstances under which it was made, it was not strange. - -I do not know if it is customary for proposals to be made in the -stalls of a theatre. I sincerely hope, for the lady’s sake, that it is -not; especially if the subject is treated in the singular manner in -which it was treated then. Not only was the phraseology very peculiar, -but many of the people about us could not help hearing most of what he -said; so that I had a dreadful feeling that they were more amused by -his remarks than by those of the performers on the stage. No woman, I -suppose, likes the declaration of a man’s passion to be made a public -mock of, even when it comes from such a ridiculous creature as Walter -Hammond. - -Voices came to us from the pit--as before, vulgar voices. - -“Silence! Shut up there in front! Can’t the gentleman in the stalls go -outside if he wants to talk to his young lady?” - -In desperation, I endeavoured to induce him to respect their most -reasonable wishes. - -“Mr Hammond,” I whispered, “can’t you keep still? You prevent the -people from enjoying the performance.” - -“Hang the performance!” was his answer. “And hang the people, too! Say -yes, Miss Norah--only say yes!--and I’ll be silent as the grave.” - -He reached out--in the stalls!--for my hand. I had the greatest -difficulty in keeping it from him. If I had allowed him to get it into -his, what he would have tried to do next, I do not dare to think. Had -I had the vaguest conception of what kind of person he really was, -nothing would have induced me to have any connection with him -whatever. I pitied Eveleen, from the bottom of my heart, if she ever -allowed her path in life to become associated with his. - -The same attendant who had brought Mr Carter’s card--or, at least, -what I believed to have been Mr Carter’s card--re-appeared. All round -us people were smiling, some of them giggling outright. They were -whispering among themselves. I saw that we were targets for -everybody’s eyes. I had a horrid feeling that we were even attracting -the attention of the actors and actresses on the stage. There was no -doubt as to our being observed by the band. One of the clarionet -players was grinning with such intense enjoyment that it was a miracle -how it was that he managed to blow. The reappearance of that attendant -was a distinct relief. She held out an envelope, which Mr Hammond -snatched at with an air of resentment. She drew it back, saying, -beneath her breath: - -“It’s for the lady, sir.” - -I took it, with trembling fingers. I managed, after a deal of -ridiculous fumbling, to get it open. Inside were no less than four -visiting cards. There was no need to refer to their fronts to -understand from whom they came; I felt those four men glaring at me -from the box above. On the back of one of them something was written. -I did not look to see whose it was, but I knew it was Basil Carter’s. -It was written so very badly, apparently with a blunt lead pencil, and -I myself was in such a state of fluster, that I had difficulty in -making out what it was. - - “My dear Miss Norah,--I implore you to come up to my box at once! Mr - Hammond undertook to conduct you to it, but, with monstrous perfidy, - he enticed you to his own stall instead. This is not the time, and I - have not the space, to give you my candid opinion of his behaviour, - but I appeal to your sense of justice----” - -That was all I could read. Several more words--or what I supposed were -words--were crammed into the corner, which were beyond my powers of -deciphering. But I had deciphered enough. What an awful character Mr -Hammond appeared to be, to have played such a trick upon his -friends--and upon me!--with the seemingly express intention of making -a laughing-stock of me in front of all the theatre. I stood up on the -instant, trembling--at least, partly--with rage. He stood up, too. - -“What’s the matter? Miss Norah, where are you going?” - -“I am going to Mr Carter’s box.” - -He had the assurance to seem surprised. - -“Miss Norah! Not before giving me an answer! Say yes! Be a sportsman, -Miss Norah, and put my number up!” - -Naturally, the whole place was in commotion. - -“Sit down in front!” exclaimed half-a-dozen voices. - -One unmannerly creature made himself clearly heard above the others. -One of the many objectionable things about Mr Hammond was that he had -such a strident voice, and that he would speak so loudly. - -“Put the gentleman’s number up, if it’s only up the spout, Miss Norah; -and then, perhaps, he will sit down!” - -I distinctly heard the acid lady beside me say: - -“I cannot understand how it is that they admit such creatures. I -certainly should have thought that they would not have been allowed in -the stalls of a respectable theatre.” - -What she meant I did not know, and I could scarcely inquire. Anyhow, -it was not an agreeable thing to have said of one. The man in the row -behind stood up, also, again thrusting his head between Mr Hammond and -me, and actually forcing a scrap of paper into my hand. - -“Pardon me once more, sir, but some of us have paid for our seats with -the idea of witnessing the performance, which, I believe, still is -going on.” - -The impertinence of the man’s manner, and the absolute insolence of -his behaviour to me, stung me to sudden fury. I can get into a rage if -I like! I held out the piece of paper which he had just insinuated -between my fingers. - -“Mr Hammond, this person has just forced this into my hand, and a few -minutes ago he dropped this down my neck.” - -I extracted the three-cornered fragment, which still reposed where it -had fallen, inside my bodice, offering it to Mr Hammond with the -other. He took them both, opened one, glanced at it, then said, in a -tone of inquiry: - -“This the Johnny?” - -“That is the man.” - -I do not know what was on that scrap of paper. I have sometimes -wondered; but I never did know, and I never shall. Whatever it was, I -can scarcely conceive that it could have been an, in any way, adequate -excuse for what Mr Hammond immediately did. Yet there was a -workmanlike promptness about the fashion in which it was done which, -in a sense, appealed to me. Though it must not be, for a moment, -supposed that I regarded his action as anything but shocking. - -He turned round, and he hit that insolent man in the centre of his -face with such force that he knocked him over the back of his own -stall right into the row behind. Whatever else it was, it was a -magnificent hit. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - THE BROUGHAM - -I am afraid that, in my nature somewhere, there must be a touch of -the original savage. It is a painful thing to have to admit, but when -one is so full of faults, as I confessedly am, I fancy that one or -two, more or less, can hardly make much difference. I only know that, -when I saw that person go flying over the back of his own stall, I was -obliged to Mr Hammond for having sent him there. More, a good deal -more!--I should not have minded if he had sent a good many of the -people round us after him, especially--in spite of his age--that -barefaced old man on the other side of the vinegary little woman, who, -under cover of the excitement which immediately ensued, came to my -side, and took my hand in his, and began to look at me in a fashion, -and to say things, which made me burn with a desire to throw him into -the middle of the band. - -Of course there was a disturbance. All the people in the theatre -jumped to their feet; the band ceased playing; the performance on the -stage stopped also. Shouts and noises came from all parts of the -building. Half-a-dozen men came towards us as quickly as the cramped -space permitted. Mr Hammond confronted them as coolly as you please; -he could keep his presence of mind. - -“Only gave the fellow a taste of what he deserves. Chap who behaves -like a blackguard to a woman wants drowning. Sorry, though, to have -had to make a mess with him in a place like this.” - -Attendants seemed to be advancing on us from all sides. Suddenly I -found that Basil Carter was standing in front of me. He was white with -anxiety, or agitation, or rage, or something. He began to order me -about as if I were a child. - -“Miss Norah, come up to my box, at once. Mr Hammond, I shall call you -to a personal account for this.” - -That fired me. - -“Account! Why should you call him to account? He has merely marked his -sense of an insult which was offered me. Do you consider that he is to -blame for that?” - -“There is a right and wrong way of doing that sort of thing, Miss -Norah, as Mr Hammond knows. Will you be so good as to come up into my -box?” - -That ridiculous Mr Hammond turned to me--his tenacity of purpose, in -his own absurd way, was wonderful. - -“Miss Norah, you’ll give me an answer before you go!” - -“If it had not been for the almost insane manner in which you have -behaved, there might never have been this trouble. That is the answer -I give you, and that is the only one you ever will receive.” - -I marched off. In the corridor I found myself in the company of the -four. I was in a towering passion, and they also were in a rage, each -in his own way. - -“The man is a scoundrel--perfect scoundrel--ought to be treated as -such!” - -This was the Major. - -“Who is a scoundrel, Major Tibbet?” - -“Man Hammond--regular ruffian!” - -“I should recommend you to go back and tell him so. You will find -that, in the proceedings which will follow, he will be disposed to do -his share.” - -“He hasn’t behaved well, Miss Norah--really, he hasn’t!” This was Mr -Rumford; his manner I should describe as cattish. There was something -about him which reminded me of an elderly tabby. “Hoodwinked us in a -most ungentlemanly manner. Induced us to entrust him with you, on what -were absolutely false pretences. He really did.” - -“If that is so, I am more indebted to him than I imagined. That is all -I can say, Mr Rumford.” - -“It isn’t fair of you to say such things, Miss Norah.” Mr Purchase had -the audacity to say that. “You came with us as our common guest----” - -“Please don’t speak of me as your common guest, or as your guest at -all, Mr Purchase.” - -“You purposely twist my words. You know perfectly well----” - -“I know perfectly well that I wish to have nothing to say to you, nor -do I wish you to have anything to say to me--thank you very much -indeed, Mr Purchase. Gentlemen, I need not trouble you to come any -farther--I am going home.” - -“Going home!” cried Mr Carter. “You are coming to my box, Miss Norah.” - -“I am going to do nothing of the kind.” - -“But, Miss Norah, surely you will not punish us because of Hammond’s -misconduct; surely----” - -“Do not trouble yourself to say anything more, Mr Carter; and be so -good as to understand me clearly. I am indebted to you, separately and -collectively, for a very unpleasant evening. I will not apportion the -blame among you; I will leave you to do that yourselves. I can only -say that had I known what sort of persons you were I should not have -trespassed on your generosity, in search--in vain search--of an -evening’s entertainment. You have already caused me to be a principal -figure in a most disagreeable scene; you see how, thanks to you, the -people are staring at me now--it’s a wonder the police do not turn me -out! Being fearful lest you may drag me into another, I will say -good-evening to you now--and thank you very much. Please do not come -with me another inch.” - -“But, Miss Norah, you will at least allow us to see you home.” - -“See me home!--you! I would sooner ride with a cabman on his box.” - -“But you have no carriage!” - -“I have no omnibus, you mean. It’s a kind of vehicle I never cared -about. If you persist in following me I shall have to appeal to the -attendants for protection. There are cabs. I will get one for myself.” - -Someone touched me on the arm. It was the girl who had been in the -brown man’s box. She looked up at me with the most lovely smile, -speaking in the sweetest voice: - -“Perhaps you will allow me to relieve you of that difficulty. I have a -carriage at the door. It is at your service to take you home.” - -“It is very good of you to make me such an offer, but I could not -think of troubling you--of putting you to so much inconvenience.” - -“There will be no inconvenience, and no trouble. I have some friends -here with whom I am going on. If you don’t use it it will go home -empty, so it may as well take you.” - -“But--the gentleman who was with you in the box?” - -“My brother?” Somehow I was pleased to hear that the brown man was her -brother. “He is looking for my friends; you needn’t worry about him. -Come, I’ll show you which my carriage is.” - -She laid her hand lightly on my arm. All at once I found myself -walking at her side, as if we were old acquaintances. The four stood -staring after us. It was quite a comfort to be walking with a woman, -after being the observed of all those men--particularly as she was so -pretty and so beautifully dressed. As we went she talked--always with -that lovely smile. - -“You’re a girl of many adventures.” - -“To-night I am--too many.” - -“Oh, I don’t know. A girl can’t have too many adventures, especially -if they’re amusing ones. Do you think she can? There isn’t a man in -the theatre who has eyes for anyone but you.” - -“It’s not my fault. I’d almost rather they hadn’t any eyes at all.” - -She laughed, as if something I had said had tickled her. - -“It’s not good wishing that; they have--big ones where a women is -concerned. There is my carriage. The commissionaire will open the door -for you; I didn’t bring a footman. Tell them where to drive. -Good-night. No thanks! Delighted it’s of use to you.” - -I left her at the top of the steps which led into the street. At the -foot a brougham was standing. As I went down the steps she signalled -to the porter, or commissionaire, or whatever he was, who, I suppose, -was attached to the theatre. He held the brougham door open for me to -enter. I stepped in, waving my hand to her in farewell greeting, and -the door was closed. I gave the commissionaire my address, leaned back -among the cushions--lovely cushions they were, like down to one’s -back!--congratulating myself on having got rid of my late companions, -and of being in the possession of so charming a conveyance. Jane’s -shoes were pinching me cruelly. I was thinking to myself that since, -fortunately, I was alone, I should be able to take them off at -once--even if I had to enter the house barefooted. The brougham moved -off. I took it for granted that we had started, and was already -leaning forward to take off those wretched shoes--the agony they were -occasioning me seemed to have suddenly become more intense than -ever--when, before we could have gone more than three or four yards, -with a little jerk we stopped. The door was opened, someone came -floundering in, the door was shut with a bang; we were off again--this -time at a good round pace, which plainly meant business. - -They say that women are fond of italics and notes of exclamation, and -I daresay I am fonder of them than I ought to be--it is so convenient -to put a mark which expresses a great deal without your having to go -to the trouble of explaining just what. But all the italics and notes -of exclamation put together would be incapable of even hinting at what -my feelings were when I realised that the object who had come -blundering in upon my privacy was the bald-headed creature who had -been sitting on the other side of the sour little woman. The discovery -of his identity set my brain--which had been settling down into a -condition of normal quiescence--in a whirl again. Had I been the -victim of a deep-laid plot? What was the meaning of the wretch’s -presence there? - -His demeanour, the words with which he addressed me, the -matter-of-fact air with which he uttered them, made the confusion -worse confounded. - -“The idea of finding you in here! Best joke I ever had in my life! You -little dear!” - -He put out his hand and felt for mine. I fancy that the rapidity with -which I withdrew myself as far as possible from him into the opposite -corner a little startled him. - -“How dare you intrude yourself in here?” - -He laughed--actually laughed. - -“You can carry things off with an air. I thought you could, by the way -you treated that chap who tried to spoon you--in the middle of the -stalls. He had a nerve. It was as good as a play to watch him. Not -that I blame him for wanting to spoon you--there isn’t a man living -who wouldn’t draw a blank cheque for the chance of doing it. You -little sweet!” - -I hurled back the hand, which again came out towards me, with a degree -of force which I imagine rather shook his ancient frame. - -“Be so good as to stop the carriage, and at once get out!” - -“Get out?” - -“Certainly, sir--get out!” - -“Get out of my own carriage?” - -“Your own carriage?” A wild thought rushed through my mind. Was it -possible that that lovely lady could have been playing me a trick? I -had heard of the deceitfulness of women--and seen, alas! too much; -there was a good deal of deceit practised in the bosom of my own -family, but that would be to surpass all bounds. It was incredible. -Such double dealing could not be! “It’s not your carriage. It’s the -brown man’s sister’s!” - -“The brown man’s sister’s? And who is the brown man’s sister? For the -matter of that, who’s the brown man?” - -“I don’t know her name--I don’t know either of their names--but it’s -hers. I know it’s hers--she told me it was hers!” - -“Did she? Then she could tell ’em. Some folks can.” He winked at -me--one of those disgraceful winks of which he was so fond. “I tell -you that this carriage is mine--mine! Or rather, it’s my wife’s. I -presented it to her--with my love. If you want to have any peace at -all you’re obliged to give your wife things--at intervals. What you’ve -got to do is to make the intervals as long as you can. Between -ourselves, my wife is waiting for it now--on the pavement. She’ll be -getting anxious. She soon gets anxious, does Maria. When she finds out -what has become of it--if she ever does find out--the mercury’ll run -up the thermometer at a rate that’ll burst the whole machine. I know. -I’ve had it happen before, and found it most expensive. That’s when -the intervals recur.” The dreadful being winked again. “But this time -I shan’t mind. When I noticed, in the theatre there, the friendly way -in which you received those little movements of my eyelids I had my -hopes, but they never went as far as this. You little pet!” - -Out came the hand, and back it went--quicker than it came. - -“Will you keep yourself to yourself, sir? Did you dare for one moment -to suggest that I encouraged you in your insolent behaviour?” - -“Never know what a woman calls encouragement. But when you find her -waiting for you in your own wife’s brougham, it does--well, it does -look as if something was meant, doesn’t it?” - -“Do you venture to insinuate that I got into your wife’s carriage -knowing it was here, and that you were coming into it?” - -“Now, my dear, don’t let’s ask each other questions. I’m used to being -put through my catechism; it happens every day of my life. Do let’s be -sociable.” - -“Be so good as to stop the carriage--your wife’s carriage--this -instant. If you won’t get out of it, I will.” - -“Not if I know it. Now you’re unreasonable. Whatever happens now, I -shall get it hot. I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.” - -“It’s a matter of complete indifference to me for what you’re hung, so -long as you are hung. If you won’t stop the carriage, then I shall.” - -“No, you don’t.” - -He moved towards me with a degree of agility which was incredible to -his multitudinous years. - -“Man!” I cried. - -Putting my hand upon his shoulder I drove him back against the -cushions with a degree of vigour which nearly sent him through them. I -think it occasioned him surprise. For the moment he seemed to be able -to do nothing else but gasp. - -I daresay I should have stopped the carriage, only just at that moment -another brougham came tearing along, which, the moment it passed, was -drawn right across our path. We stopped, perforce, with a jerk, and, I -suspect, with remarks from our driver. The other stopped also, -somebody jumped out, and there, standing in the road, looking in at -us, was the brown man. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - THE SINGULAR WOOING - -He looked very nice--it is a principle of mine to tell the truth -always, or, at least, nearly always; so I will go so far as to assert -that he looked positively delicious. Because he did. He wore no -overcoat. As he stood at the open door, with his hat in his hand, and -just that flavour of impertinence about his smile and bearing and -general deportment which does become some men, he struck me--even in -that moment of so many agitations--not only as being extremely -good-looking, which he undoubtedly was, but also as one of those -recklessly, and criminally, delightful persons with whom one could -hardly help having a really first-rate time. His manner, when he -spoke, was suavity itself. He had a pleasant voice, and a -take-it-for-granted air which was in keeping with his mischievous eyes -and his moustache and his white waistcoat. - -“I thought it was you.” Did he? How good of him! What business had he -to think about it at all? “There has been a misunderstanding. My -sister directed you to the wrong carriage. This is my sister’s -carriage. May I ask you to take the trouble to transfer yourself to -it.” - -I hesitated, or I should have hesitated, had it not been for that -wicked and presumptuous old man. - -“Who are you, sir? What do you mean by detaining my carriage, sir? Go -away, sir, and shut the door, and allow my carriage to proceed. This -lady is with me.” - -She might be, but not intentionally, and the even dim suggestion that -she was, was sufficient to settle the question on the spot. I paid no -attention to him whatever. I addressed myself solely and entirely to -the brown man. - -“So kind of you to take so much trouble, and so sweet of your sister -to let me have her carriage. I expect that the mistake was mine.” -Though, considering the care she had taken to particularise the -vehicle which I was to enter, I did not see how that could be, but -that was by the way. “If I may intrude.” - -I proceeded to descend. My ancient companion endeavoured to stop me. - -“My dear young lady, don’t leave me--only too delighted--take you -anywhere!” Then he descended to the vernacular, altogether oblivious -of the solemn truth that the fact of his having nearly, if not quite, -attained to the Psalmist’s span should have induced him to pay some -regard to the proprieties. “It’s hard lines your throwing me over like -this--uncommonly hard lines--especially considering the row I’m booked -for anyhow. I don’t call it a ladylike thing to do!” - -His notions of what was, and of what was not, a ladylike thing to do -were probably so distinctly his own that they could hardly be expected -to interest me. At any rate, they did not. I just crossed over to the -brown man’s sister’s carriage, and left him to formulate--I believe -that is the proper word, but if not I cannot help it--his views on -ladies and things at his leisure. - -It was an odd sensation passing from one brougham to the other. -Broughams with us are represented by vehicles from the livery stables. -People sometimes, indeed often, take mamma and the girls in their -broughams; but no one, since I was the merest child, ever betrayed the -slightest desire to take me--not even to play the part of gooseberry. -This unwonted actual anxiety to place absolutely charming conveyances -at my disposal was most refreshing--to say no more. I had already been -in a private omnibus--which, after all, was not so bad; in that bad -old man’s wife’s carriage--which was a pet; and now I was in the most -scrumptious little vehicle you could possibly imagine--and all in the -course of a single evening. If I progressed at this rate I might find -myself riding in the Lord Mayor’s coach before I went to bed. - -Before many moments had elapsed, however, it began to dawn upon me -that, so far as company was concerned, from certainly one point of -view, I might not have made an altogether felicitous exchange. The -brown man moved in seven-league boots. Compared to the rapidity of his -advance, my previous companion had merely stumbled along. But then, of -course, he was very much older. - -We had been bowling along in silence, and I was beginning to wonder if -I could possibly be in for a Quaker’s meeting, when my new companion -put an end to any fears I might have had on that point by saying, in -the calmest voice in the world, the sort of voice in which he would -have referred to the possibility of a shower of rain: - -“I wonder if we can get married in the morning.” - -I jumped, not boisterously, perhaps, but I certainly did jump. - -“I beg your pardon?” I observed. - -“I say that I was wondering if we can get married in the morning. My -uncle’s the Bishop of Battersea. I believe that you can get special -licences from Bishops and persons of that sort while you wait. I’ve a -suspicion that he turns in early: he’s that kind of character. The -question is, whether I shall assail him at this hour of the night, or -rout him out with the milk in the morning--which would he dislike -least? I don’t want to hurt the poor dear man’s feelings more than I -can help.” - -It was as if a drop of ice-cold water had gone trickling down my -spinal column. I had to shiver. Could the brown man be insane? And so -good-looking! I endeavoured--if such were the case--to lead him back -to lines of comparative sanity. - -“It’s wonderfully good of your sister to lend me her beautiful -carriage.” - -His answer did startle me. - -“She didn’t. Don’t suppose it.” - -“But--she offered it to me herself.” - -“That’s her artfulness. Louisa is artful. When I told her I wanted her -brougham--for you; her brougham gives the thing an air--she said she’d -see me farther first. So, when I went off to nobble it, waylaying you, -she carted you off in someone else’s. Very neat indeed--Louisa’s no -fool.” - -This statement of the facts of the case, as they appeared to him, took -my breath away. It might be true. - -“Then am I to understand that your sister does not know that I am in -her brougham?” - -“She knows. You may bet on Louisa’s knowing.” - -“Then am I here contrary to her wish?” - -“What’s the use of worrying about trifles? never do. What’s troubling -me is the much more serious question as to whether we can be married -in the morning. The Bishop’s an unmanageable creature. Used to be my -tutor. Short of throwing things at him, you never could get him to -behave with decency. You can’t throw things at a Bishop. It’s not good -form. Do you know anything about that sort of thing?” - -“About what sort of thing?” - -“Special licences, and so on.” - -“Will you have the kindness to ask your coachman to stop the next cab -we come to, and I will get into it.” - -“I say! Really! You mustn’t talk like that!” - -“It seems to me very much as if I must talk like that. I appear to be -riding in your sister’s carriage against her wish, and you certainly -are talking in a strain which would seem to hint at there being -something the matter with your mental balance. I should be sorry to -seem discourteous, but I prefer a cab.” - -He looked at me with his impertinent eyes in a way which made me -thrill all over. It is entirely impossible for a person like me--who -hardly knows one end of a pen from the other, and does not want to--to -give an adequate impression of the perfectly charming way in which he -said the most ridiculous and disgraceful things. I had every intention -and desire to be angry, but I had to smile. - -“That’s the unreasonableness of the world. Everybody--including -Louisa, who practically is everybody--has been urging me for ever so -long to marry. But I have felt that I had a vocation. Women have -seemed to me to be good for everything but marrying. Louisa weeps. -Then, to-night, when I see you at the Imperial, I not only fall in -love with you--which is nothing, because I am constantly falling in -love and out again--but I am seized with an instant conviction that -marriage is my vocation. I rush after you to the theatre, where Louisa -has a box. I say to her, ‘Louisa, I am going to do as you wish, I am -about to marry!’ She gives a movement which may or may not signify -satisfaction, and ejaculates, ‘No!’ I retort, ‘Yes! there is the lady -who is to be my wife!’ And I point you out to her in your place in the -stalls. She focusses you with her glass, and exclaims ‘Good heavens!’ -Then adds, ‘Who is she?’ ‘I have not the faintest notion who she is,’ -I explain, ‘I only know that she is going to be--my wife.’ Louisa -looks up at me and demands, ‘Are you mad?’ There--to return to my -former position--is the unreasonableness of the world. Louisa hints -insanity because I am unable to accede to her wishes; when I am, she -calls me mad. I ask you if there is any reason why you should not be -my wife?” - -“Rather! To enter for a moment into your mood--is there any reason why -I should?” - -“Manifold obvious reasons. First, I love, which is a bourgeois reason -perhaps. Then, I am rich, which again is a little bourgeois; but still -sound reason. I am young, sound of mind, hale of body, not -ill-looking, of decent reputation, easy temper. Happiness is but a -word, meaning different things in different mouths. Yet it’s but the -simple truth that I can offer you all that the heart of a woman can -desire--when she marries.” - -“You seem to have a tolerable opinion of yourself.” - -“Why not? Yet I have a higher opinion still of you.” - -“I doubt it. I am wondering if you are supposing that I have recently -escaped from a lunatic asylum, or if it is the fact that you have.” - -“Don’t say that you see sanity only in the commonplace. That were to -rank yourself too violently with Louisa.” - -“And this is Louisa’s carriage, if, as you pretend, that is your -sister’s name. I have already asked you to let me get out of it into a -cab. Where is the man driving? I don’t believe that this is the way to -Kensington.” - -“Why should it be the way to Kensington?” - -“Why! Because I live there. Didn’t you hear the address I gave you?” - -“But my address is in Berkeley Square.” - -“_Your_ address! What has _your_ address to do with me?” - -“Since it is also to be yours, does not the question seem a trifle -crude?” - -“Your address is to be mine? What do you mean?” - -“I trust that you are sufficiently old-fashioned to consent to share -your husband’s home.” - -“My husband’s home! Have you dared to tell the man to drive me to your -house?” - -“The notion’s this: that you will consent to accept the shelter of my -roof while I rout out the Bishop, so that we may be married in the -morning. It may seem to be pressing matters on a trifle hastily, to -ask you to permit yourself to be ‘wooed and married and all’ inside of -half-a-dozen hours. But I’ve a feeling strong upon me that this is a -business which were well done if it were done quickly. If we delay -there’ll be a hundred thousand reasons buzzing about our ears, to -sting us as if they were mosquitoes. While, if we’re married, there’ll -be no sting left in them. They’ll only buzz. And of that they’ll soon -grow tired.” - -“I believe that you’re stark mad. You’re worse than that wicked old -man. And I thought you were a gentleman. Will you tell the -coachman--at once!--to drive me straight home.” - -“My dear lady, permit me to ask your name. It’s a disadvantage to a -man not to know the name of the lady he’s about to marry.” - -“I certainly will not tell you my name. Will you do as I ask you?” - -“I am your devoted slave, only do not treat me with too much -harshness. This is a critical moment in my life: my fate hangs in the -balance. Let us approach the consideration of our respective destinies -with dispassionate calmness, with open minds. Let us be careful to -avoid anything which may have the appearance of heat.” - -As I caught his eye, I was surer than ever that he was laughing at me. -He might have been an altogether delightful individual--I am offering -no suggestion that he was not; but his barefaced impudence and brazen -audacity were beyond anything I had ever conceived as possible. I saw -that I should find myself in a pretty position if I did not look -out--and quickly too. I had had such a dry-as-dust existence; here was -the promise of adventure, if you liked. And I do not mind owning that -there flashed through my mind a wild idea of seeing the adventure to a -finish, of trusting him, of allowing him to take the arbitrament of my -fate in his two hands, if that avuncular Bishop could only be -persuaded to prove amenable--of permitting him to marry me in the -morning. What a courtship it would have been! and what a wedding! What -a nine days’ wonder! What would the girls have said? and mamma? and -the five--particularly Walter Hammond, when he learnt how somebody -else had taken a leaf out of his very own book, and made the running -with a vengeance? His sister’s face--what sort of an expression would -have been on that when she learnt the use which had been made of her -brougham?--and what kind of an opinion would she have had of me? - -He was a very magnetic person--by far the most magnetic I ever had -encountered. As one became more and more conscious of his supremely -attractive personality--as one could not help but do--there was -something fascinating even about his topsy-turvy way of putting -things. If I had surrendered myself to the magic of his influence, -what would have happened? What would have been the issue of the -night’s adventures? If I had! But I did not. I gave myself, as it -were, a mental pinch, and I put my head out of the window, and I -called to the driver. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - I BEHAVE LIKE A GOOSE - -“Coachman!” I cried. The driver reined in his horse. “Where are you -taking me?” - -“Home, my lady.” - -“Home? To whose home? To my home?” - -“To His Grace’s, my lady--Chelmsford House.” - -He called me “my lady,” and spoke of “His Grace,” and of Chelmsford -House. Then the brown man must be the Duke of Chelmsford? No woman can -suddenly awake to the fact that she has been in the society of a real -live duke--and such a duke--without becoming conscious of a singular -something. I withdrew my head from the window with a sort of spasmodic -rush. - -“Are you the Duke of Chelmsford?” - -“I am; and hope that you will shortly be the Duchess.” - -The Duchess! the Duchess of Chelmsford! the consort of the richest -duke in the world, and, as my own eyes told me--the very handsomest; -the queen of English society--palaces and lands just everywhere--the -world at my feet, ready, willing, eager to do me homage--me! Small -wonder that everything seemed all at once to be going round. Was it -possible that the greatest of life’s prizes--from every sensible -woman’s point of view--was being offered me? that I was actually being -entreated to accept it? This was something like an adventure. - -The brown man’s--I mean the Duke’s--voice came to my still startled -ear. - -“You’ll find being a Duchess rather a bore. The natural boredom, to -which all flesh is heir, will afflict you in an accentuated form. But -you’ll get used to it. Use is by way of being a universal panacea. -Then you’ll discover that it’s a sort of boredom which you have rather -grown to like. My mother used to say she had.” - -I turned the handle of the door, and, without a word, stepped out into -the road. So soon as I stood upright I realised that I was trembling -from head to foot. I wondered, hazily, if I was going to be silly; -dimly aware that it was an absurdly inconvenient place in which to -make a fuss. Instantly the brown man--I mean the Duke--was at my side. - -“Why have you got out here? You prefer to walk the remainder of the -distance? It’s fine for walking. My house--our house--is but over the -way.” - -“Will you please tell me where is the nearest place at which I can -find a cab?” - -I know little of that part of London. Especially is it strange to me -at night. We seemed to be in a great square, with huge houses all -round it, and a fine wide road, which, apparently, we had all to -ourselves. - -“We shall not need one, it is but a step.” Then, I suppose, he -perceived that I was looking queer, because all at once his tone -became solicitous. “May I beg you to accept my arm. Has anything -distressed you?” - -“I want a cab,” was all that I could murmur. - -What he would have said I do not know. Before he could speak another -brougham came bowling along. It stopped just by us, and out of it--of -all persons in the world--walked that wicked old man. He marched -straight up to where we were standing--as if he had the slightest -ground for interference. What he imagined had occurred I, of course, -cannot say; but he addressed us in a truly remarkable strain. - -“Just what I expected--knew I should find this sort of thing going on. -If you had asked me, you would have been warned in time. You young -people are never able to judge for yourselves whom you can trust. Now, -my dear young lady, you would have seen how much wiser you would have -been if you had remained with me.” - -“Who is this gentleman?” inquired the Duke. - -“I don’t know who he is--I don’t want to have anything to do with -him--he’s no acquaintance of mine--I wish he’d go away!” - -That old man actually dared to pretend to be hurt by my repudiation of -him. - -“There now, listen to that! And, for all I know, my wife’s still -standing on the pavement waiting for her carriage; while, at this hour -of the night, I’ve been following this ungrateful girl in it like -a--like a--like a true friend. And I arrive at the moment when the -protection of a true friend is most needed, and this is the welcome I -receive. There’s nothing so ungrateful as a young girl--especially -when gratitude is owing to a man of my years. But, my dear young lady, -I will forgive you everything; so come back to my carriage and don’t -let us trouble this young gentleman any further.” - -His fingers fastened about my arm. I shrunk back. - -“Don’t touch me.” - -The Duke, placing himself between us, spoke to that horrid old wretch. - -“Have the goodness not to allow us to detain you any longer.” - -I believe there would have been a scene before we could have got rid -of him, because, so far as I could see, he showed no sign of budging, -and every second I was growing queerer and queerer. Something inside -of me seemed to have escaped from my control, so that I could not pull -myself together and behave like a reasonable being. Just as I was -beginning to be afraid that I should have to sit down in the middle of -the road, or do something else equally insane, up dashed another -vehicle. I believe it was a hansom cab, but as I was seeing everything -through a kind of mist, I could not be sure. Anyhow, out of it jumped -the brown man’s sister. I thought her voice, as it reached my dulling -ears, was the pleasantest I had heard that night. After all, there is -nothing like a woman, when you have had enough of men. - -“So I’ve found you, have I? Pray, what’s doing now? Bernard, what -fresh freak are you indulging in?” - -“Louisa, will you take this lady to Chelmsford House. I fear she’s -feeling tired. There are a few words which I must say to this -gentleman.” - -I felt the brown man’s sister’s arm go round my waist; it was so nice. - -“Tired? You poor child! You’ve upset her with your nonsense. Bernard! -quick! help me with her to the carriage. Who are all these people who -are coming?” - -“All these people” were the five. They came clattering up -together--the four in the omnibus, Walter Hammond alone in a hansom -cab. I fancy that there was a fine to-do. But it was lost on me. For -the first time in my life I was behaving like a goose--in the Duke of -Chelmsford’s arms. - -So I rode home in the brown man’s sister’s brougham. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - “UNTIL?” - -And what a time I did have of it when I did get home, attended by an -entire retinue. Mamma was sitting up for me, and Audrey, and also -Jane. What a sensation my arrival caused, and were there not alarms -and excursions. It must have been a singular procession, especially -when one considers that for our part of the world it was a trifle -late. I with the brown man’s sister in her brougham, the Duke in his -sister’s cab, Walter Hammond in his own hansom, that bad old man in -his wife’s carriage--he insisted on following in that injured female’s -vehicle to my very doorstep,--the four in their omnibus. I daresay -that remarks were made which would have been worth reporting. But I -was beyond the reporting stage. - -Was I not glad to find myself alone again in my own shabby little -bedroom, and rid of Jane. It was not an easy task to be rid of Jane. -Had I not got my foot against the door the instant I was through it, I -should hardly have been rid of her at all. As it was, she tapped -unceasingly at the panels, imploring from without to be allowed to -assist me to undress. She had assisted me to dress; that was -sufficient, at any rate, for me. But it was no use telling her so; in -tones which grew more and more lachrymose she continued to entreat for -some time after I had declined to indulge in further parley. - -What a relief it was to sit on the edge of the bed and get Jane’s -shoes off--at last! I should have liked to have dropped on to the -counterpane, and gone to sleep just as I was; I was so tired. When one -is accustomed to retire early--I was generally in bed and fast asleep -hours before the others were--and to no excitement, to have so much -excitement crammed into a single night is fatiguing. I know I found it -so. It was only because my conscience would not let me get into bed -with my clothes on that I undressed at all. As I struggled with -refractory tapes and buttons--and they were all refractory then--I -told myself that I was an idiot to allow myself to be a slave to -habit, and call it conscience, when my eyes would not keep open. - -Yet when I got into bed, with my clothes honestly off, I could not -sleep. I suppose I was over-tired. I certainly was over-tired. Like a -constantly shifting phantasmagoria, the events of the night passed -backwards and forwards through my brain. It was such an upheaval of -the whole course of nature that I should be courted, a thing to be -desired by men. Since what time? Since, say three o’clock, the whole -world, so far as I was concerned, had been turned upside down; the -order of nature had been changed, a miracle had been worked--I had -become all those things which I had never been before. That it was no -delusion, I, and others, had had assurance enough and to spare. I had -seen it in the way in which men looked at me, in the way in which they -spoke to me, hunted me when they could. In plain English, it seemed as -if I had acquired a sudden capacity to drive men mad. I had always -suspected that not much was required to do that. Now it appeared that -it only needed me. There was proof plain as Holy Writ that the writing -on the paper---- - -At the thought of the scrap of paper, I was out of bed again in half a -twinkling, nearly wide awake. Where was it? I re-lit the gas, looked -for it, found it still among the litter on the dressing-table. There -was the mystic, magic, incredible sentence, in the small clear -writing, which somehow reminded me of the writing in which they put -one’s name upon one’s visiting-card. - -“Your wish shall be gratified until----” - -“Until?” - -Why, surely, when I saw it last no “until” was there. It certainly was -not when I saw it first. Was the sentence really still being written? -Then the scribe was pretty slow. If such were the case what was to -follow after “until”? - -“Until”--satiety ensued, and I had had enough of it? Could I turn off -my power at pleasure, and, having done so, turn it on again? How? -Would the secret of that somewhat delicate operation also be revealed? -“Until”--I was married? I might be married in a few hours, if I chose, -to the Duke of Chelmsford, that deliciously impertinent brown man. -Should I not be able to crow over mamma and the girls if I were? Would -it not be a magnificent instance of Cinderella up-to-date? Though no -one could speak of the girls as “ugly sisters.” “Until”--I was old? -Some people might regard twenty-two as old. I myself sometimes feel as -if bowed down by the weight of years. What was the period in life at -which it was universally agreed that folks were old, even by the folks -themselves? I knew that mamma considered herself quite young. If it -were left to me to fix the age at which I might be reckoned old, I -might say after the expiration of a century, and, even from the little -I had seen of things, I believe that some people esteemed themselves -comparatively juvenile even then. Fancy men of all ranks and ages -making love to a real old lady! Would it not be dreadful? “Until”--I -died? I was not sure that I should like to be regarded as an object of -desire by every male creature I encountered, quite until the end. I -might have had a great deal more than enough of them long ere that. -Especially if they continued to press themselves upon me as eagerly as -they had done that night. Indeed, it was extremely probable, if only -death could put a period to their persecution, that I might welcome -with rapture a suicide’s grave. - -I put out the gas again, and, with the scrap of paper between my -fingers, returned to bed, the problem of the unfinished sentence yet -unsolved. And I have a vague idea that I fell fast asleep as soon as I -was between the sheets a second time--the missing words still missing. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - THE FINISHED SENTENCE - -For some moments I could not think what had happened. I had just -been eloping with the Duke of Chelmsford, and because several men had -maintained that he ought to do nothing of the kind, he had put me in -his pocket--which was not anything like large enough--and thrown -Jane’s crimson shoes into his sister’s face, who had thereupon changed -into a horse--with Walter Hammond’s head, on which he had sprung; and, -galloping down the racecourse, had dragged me from his pocket--with -much difficulty!--and married me in the middle of the grand stand. I -felt, even in my sleep, that this was a surprising way for a person to -behave, and that I had a grievance, when all at once I became -conscious of Audrey’s face bent over my bed, and of the fact that she -was shaking me. - -“Do you know what time it is?” I did not, and did not care. I fancy I -signified as much. “It’s half-past eleven, and already people have -come to see you.” Still I was indifferent: as yet the statement -conveyed no meaning. “How are you feeling?” - -“Cheap.” - -Audrey laughed. - -“That’s lack of experience, my dear. Though it’s true that the more -expensive a night one has, the more economical one feels in the -morning--especially, I fancy, when it’s a woman in the case. Though -I’ve known men who suffered. But you did have a good time--didn’t -you?” - -“Don’t ask me. I suppose I did--but--at present--I’m not quite sure. -It was a little nightmarey.” - -Audrey was still. Although my eyes were closed I was oddly conscious -that hers were searching my face with a curious scrutiny. And, -somehow, I seemed to know that what she saw there made her sorry, but -whether for herself or for me I could not tell. - -“I fancy that everyone must have been a wee bit mad--yesterday.” - -There was an inflection in her voice which caused me to look up. - -“Mad? Yes; I think they must have been!” - -“Some of Puck’s magic powder must have got into their eyes, so that -they saw things as they did in that wood near Athens. Perhaps they’ll -have got it out to-day.” - -“Perhaps.” - -Again she looked at me, and, as I was looking at her, this time I saw -that there was trouble in her eyes, trouble which seemed to grow as -she looked. Stooping, she kissed me, saying something which I did not -understand at all. - -“Never mind, Norah; we’ve all got our burdens to bear. It’s a pretty -hard world for feminine things. Shall I tell those people you cannot -see them, that you’re not feeling well? You don’t seem quite up to the -mark, you know.” - -“Am I looking ill?” - -“No--not ill--exactly. You’re like your ordinary self: and--last -night--you hardly were.” - -This time something in her words, her tone, her manner, did give me a -hint of what it was she meant. As I began to perceive what it was she -wanted me to understand I became conscious of a tightness about the -region of the heart, as if it had been suddenly weighted with lead. -She saw it was so, because she kissed me again. - -“Shall I send them away?” - -While I hesitated, because the thought which she had presented to my -mind had left me for the moment speechless, mamma came into the room. -The instant she spoke, it was plain that she had heard what Audrey had -said: - -“They won’t go,” she began. “I can’t think what people are coming to -nowadays--never saw such manners in my life--if those men were -crossing-sweepers they could not behave worse!--and I’m not sure that -some of them are much better! One of them has the assurance to call -himself the Duke of Chelmsford. Quite apart from anything else, the -fact of his being so extremely good-looking proclaims him an impostor. -All dukes are notoriously ugly. Norah, I insist upon your telling me -what is the meaning of these proceedings.” - -Audrey answered for me. - -“My dear mamma, since Norah is scarcely awake I can’t see how you can -expect her to explain what she herself as yet knows nothing about.” - -Mamma pretended to be angry with Audrey, which was a most unusual -thing, for no one was ever angry with Audrey long. - -“It’s no use your endeavouring to palliate Norah’s conduct, Audrey--I -won’t have it!--I have had too much of it already!--I don’t like the -attitude you have taken up in the matter!--it doesn’t become you! -Norah’s behaviour is beyond my comprehension--look at the scene last -night! And now here are these men--strange men!--at this unseemly hour -of the morning, demanding to see her as if they were presenting a -pistol at my head. I will not keep silent and allow scandal to be -brought upon my house. Tell me at once, Norah, who is this person who -calls himself the Duke of Chelmsford?” - -“He is the Duke of Chelmsford, mamma.” - -“How do you know? And how did you become acquainted with him, if he -is--you, of all the people in the world?” - -“He introduced himself to me last night.” - -“Introduced himself to you!--a man in his position!--to you! Where -were those other men that such a thing should have been possible?” - -I sighed, at least I made a noise which I suppose may be described as -a sigh, though it has always seemed to me to be rather a poetic word -to apply to the sort of gasping sound one makes when one feels that -other people are just a trifle stupid. - -“It would take me a good time to explain, mamma, and then perhaps you -wouldn’t understand.” - -“Indeed, though that’s a remark which no girl ought to make to her -mother, I daresay it’s true enough; the whole thing’s beyond my -understanding. Ever since yesterday afternoon I’ve been asking myself -if the whole world’s gone mad. And now that I look at you I ask myself -more than ever. No man has ever seen anything in you except two eyes -and a nose, and now what they think they see in you all of a sudden is -beyond me altogether. What you say about her having changed, Audrey, -is just nonsense, except it’s changed for the worse--unless you wish -to insinuate that my eyesight’s failing me. She’s always been a plain -girl--the only one of my family!--and she’s a plain woman--without -even that kind of plainness which is interesting. And what you wish me -to understand by talking about her having changed sufficiently to -account for the behaviour of those men, as I say, unless I’m going -blind, it’s balderdash you’re talking. She’s a fright, just that, and -nothing more; and it’s a bad day when I, her mother, that never had a -child except her that wasn’t fit for framing--have to say it.” - -During the utterance of these very outspoken remarks, I knew--although -I was not looking--that Audrey was making signs to mamma to be a -little careful in her choice of words; signs which, apparently, mamma -preferred to ignore--feeling, possibly, that, under the circumstances, -to spare my feelings was to spoil the child. When mamma had quite -finished then I did turn towards Audrey, and when I caught her eyes -she smiled, there was no mistake about her being a picture well worth -framing! - -“Never mind what mamma says,” she whispered. - -“I don’t,” I replied, with perfect candour, and equal truth. “I never -do.” - -Of course the confession was not lost upon mamma. - -“If I’d spoken to my mother like that, in her presence, she’d have -beaten me; but, in those days, daughters used to look upon a mother as -a parent. Now, she might as well be the cattle in the field. And the -consequences of it will be, Norah O’Brady, that you may as well go -clerking, or companion to an old lady, or something equally as -degrading to your father’s child, for all the chances you’ll ever have -of getting decently settled in life--in spite of all the half-witted -men who’re invading my house at this time of the morning. And what it -is that I’m to do with them, I’d like to know.” - -Audrey repeated the question which I had left unanswered. - -“Shall I send them away?” - -I hesitated, searching her face for what was written on it. It was -with a fresh sinking of the heart that I understood, or thought I did. - -“No; let them wait. I will be as quick as I can, and come down to -them. It will be better to get it over.” - -She stooped down and whispered in my ear, so that, this time, I was -the only one who heard: - -“Men are the least dependable of all God’s creatures. You mustn’t -mind.” - -It was a cryptic utterance--to those who were without the key, which I -fancied that I had. She took mamma away with her. I was left alone. - -The instant they were gone I brought up, from between the sheets, a -scrap of paper--_the_ scrap. I had taken it with me to bed. All night -long, it seemed, I had held it in my hand, clutched between my -fingers. I had thought of it the moment I supposed myself to have an -idea of Audrey’s meaning; and, feeling it there, had realised how -close a neighbour it had been while I had slept. It was all crumpled. -I smoothed it out, and looked. The writing had grown faint; so faint -as to suggest that the writer must have used ink of a very evanescent -quality. Already, here and there, the words could scarcely be -deciphered. - -But the sentence was finished! - -How, while I had slept, the finish had been arrived at, or by whom, I -could not tell. The result was unmistakable. My doom stared me in the -face; my forebodings were realised; the meaning of what I had seen in -Audrey’s eyes, heard in her voice, was made quite plain. - -“Your wish shall be gratified until to-morrow.” - -“To-morrow” had been the missing word--that was, to-day. My wish was -to be gratified until to-day, which meant that all the gratification I -was to receive--so far as that particular wish was concerned--I had -already had. What was my wish exactly? I should not have liked to have -had to answer the question on my oath. I had been talking pretty -wildly at the time! But, so far as I could remember, I wished that all -men--every man--might fall in love with me at sight. As, lying there, -in cold blood--metaphorically, in very cold blood, indeed!--I -endeavoured to recall it, as accurately as I could, what a singular -wish it seemed, to say the very least! - -And it had been gratified? And now it was done with? Dear! dear! what -a very short span of enjoyment had been allotted me. What a very small -result the boon which had been conferred had ended in. Was that the -meaning of the feeling I was conscious of--that I had returned again -to what I was? It certainly was true that I was oppressed by an -apprehension, which was near akin to fear, that since last night -something had been lost, that something had gone from me, which I had -when I laid down to sleep--gone, never to return. What could it be? It -was not that I was ill, or tired, or--as I had pretended to -Audrey--even cheap. It was nothing half so commonplace. - -I got out of bed, and, as I did so, I felt that virtue had gone from -me; life, that ichor of the gods which had been in my veins last night -instead of blood. I had hit it--I was as one of the gods--the writer -of the sentence on that scrap of paper alone knew how--and was again -but mortal. Between sleeping and waking, I had come down the Olympian -hill, slung down, rather, been kicked down, perhaps, amid the jeers -and jesting of the rightful inhabitants; and at the very, very foot -was once more--Norah O’Brady. - -I needed not the assurance of the mirror. Had I done so, I had it, -beyond all possibility of controverting. The face I saw in it was the -one I had always seen; not the one that had seemed to blaze at me -yester afternoon. The light had gone from the eyes; the flare, a mere -glimpse of which--as, somehow, I had known--would set the most -sluggish blood in masculine veins flaming as with fire; and, with it, -all had gone. There was but left the plain, uninteresting, -undistinguished, unintellectual face of overgrown Norah O’Brady. - -I dressed. How shabby my things did seem, unusually shabby, even for -me. Ill-shaped, ill-fitting, with about them, every one, that -exasperating suggestion of having been intended for someone else. -Always, everything I had, seemed to shout at me, with furious -grievance, that it might have looked presentable if only it had been -worn by a creature different entirely to me. If they had only let me -choose my own things, and, regardless of what was, or was not, the -mode, have permitted me to clothe myself in the garments in which I -looked least awkward; at any rate, my actual deficiencies might not -have been quite so obtrusive. But, in continual parodies of the -fashions of the moment--which went very well with them, but, oh! so -horribly with me--what a fright they made me look. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - THE BROWN MAN’S APOLOGY - -As I went down the stairs, dressed--if you could call it dressed--at -last, how hideously conscious I was that I presented a spectacle of -all that was least desirable in womanhood. Long familiarity with the -fact had hardened me. I take it that no feminine thing becomes -completely reconciled to the accident that she is not physically -prepossessing. Women who are plain sometimes do not realise their -plainness. I daresay that is true. Or they may cherish a hope that, in -the eyes of someone, some day, they may not be plain. If, fatherless, -brotherless, they live with five lovely sisters, and a still -good-looking mother--who esteems beauty the only thing which is worth -a woman’s having--both these consolations will be denied them. Long -before they have reached years of maturity, they will have learnt, -with that absolute certainty of conviction which leaves no room -whatever for doubt, that they are ugly ducklings, and that, for such -as they, this world has no good things; that, indeed, it is as sure as -that the sky is above the earth, that none but idiots, or worse, will -ever esteem them for themselves alone. And, though they become -accustomed to this knowledge, and so pachydermatous, in a sense, there -are occasions when the actualities of their position are as pin-pricks -to make them wince as eagerly as if their skins had never been tanned, -by the laying on of innumerable stripes, into hide at all. - -The descent of the stairs which divided my bedroom from the -drawing-room was one of those occasions. Worse luck for me. In the -drawing-room were the men who had been the worshippers of the girl who -was--last night; come, at that matutinal hour, to render her the -proofs of their devotion. Going to them was the girl who was to-day; -that grotesque caricature of the being they had known, and of whom -they apparently still dreamed. Clearly, it was doubtful if this was a -case in which they would perceive that it was “better to have loved -and lost, than never to have loved at all.” No man cherishes a -sentimental pang when he discovers that he has been deluded into -loving a female Bottom in an ass’s head. The humour of the situation -would probably appeal to them so much more strongly than to me. - -Half-way down I encountered Jane, who, I rather suspect, had been -keeping herself handy in the possible expectation of such an -encounter. At sight of me she gave a jump. - -“Lor’! Miss Norah, whatever has come to you! I shouldn’t hardly ever -have known you; you look so different--really, I shouldn’t.” - -“Do I look different? How?” - -I was curious to learn how the matter appeared to her. Her way of -seeing it might be as a straw to guide me as to the quarter from which -I might expect the wind to blow in the interview to which I was -advancing. Her eyes travelled over my features in stolid, observant -fashion, as if she were searching out the peculiarities of a wooden -figurehead. - -“Really, miss, I couldn’t hardly say--I really couldn’t; though such -a difference I never see. It’s more than a difference; you don’t seem -as if you was the same person--that you don’t.” - -“But I assure you that I am.” - -“Excuse me, Miss Norah, but that you aren’t--you are not, really. -Leastways, not so far as looks is concerned. If you could see yourself -as you looked last night, and as you looks now, you yourself wouldn’t -say you was the same--I don’t believe you would, really.” - -It was encouraging to receive such a testimonial from Jane, especially -as on her countenance sincerity was written large, and surprise, and, -I rather fancied--it might have been only fancy, but I doubt -it--disappointment too. If the alteration were so apparent to Jane, -the not inhumanly critical, with what appalling obviousness would they -not strike the keen-sighted gentlemen who awaited me in the -drawing-room, and whose voices I already heard. The same reflection -actually occurred to the handmaid of the crimson slippers--at the -recollection of their splendours they still seemed to pinch me. - -“Whatever them there gentlemen will say when they see you looking like -that, Miss Norah, I can’t think; and there is a few of ’em. There’s a -bald-headed old party what give me a sovereign to show him in without -announcing him.” - -“A bald-headed old party?” - -“‘Never mind my name,’ he says. ‘You show me straight in without -announcing me, and here’s a sovereign for you.’ So I showed him in, -because sovereigns aren’t lying about all over the place, not in this -house they aren’t. Though I should like to know what he thinks he’s -after, with no more hair on his head than a yellow Bramah egg.” - -I felt that I also should like to know. Was it possible that that -hoary reprobate had not yet repented of his last night’s misdoings. -Jane went on to say something which nearly caused me to tumble down -the remainder of the stairs. - -“But the one that takes my fancy is him with the moustaches. Now, he -is something like a man. If he’d been took clean out of a picture he -couldn’t have been more what he ought to be.” - -“With the moustaches?” - -My thoughts recurred to the Duke of Chelmsford. Was he, in Jane’s -estimation, something like a man? But it seemed that I was on the -wrong scent. - -“Him with the moustaches what turns up at the ends like as if they was -ramrods. If he isn’t a soldier it ain’t for want of looking it. -Splendid, I call him. Then look at the height of him--regular -monument, as you might say. And that straight! Then them there eyes of -his!--ain’t they eyes? I never! When they looked at me they made me go -all over--really they did. And I’ve not got over the feeling now--that -I haven’t. It’s my opinion, and always has been, that some of them -foreign men is better grown than some of our English.” - -“Foreign men?” - -A premonitory something was beginning to chill me about the centre of -the back. - -“He speaks with a foreign accent--lovely accent, I call it--that -musical. And he’s got a way about him which makes you think, for all -his being such a great big giant of a man, that if he was to take you -in his arms he would be tender.” - -“Jane! You shouldn’t say such things!” - -“Well, miss, I am but human, as the saying is; and if I was going into -the drawing-room to see a man like him, rather than look a fright I’d -put something on my face, or do something to myself somehow, for look -different to what you’re looking now that I would--no matter how I -done it.” - -With those last words of cheering advice Jane passed up the stairs, -presumably to pursue her professional avocations. She would never have -dared to say such a thing to one of the girls, but to me it always -seems that everyone says just anything. That splendid person, with the -moustaches turned up at the ends like ramrods, and the eyes, and the -foreign accent--could he be that imposing dignitary of the Imperial -Hotel? Had he had the audacity to trace me to my own home--and call on -me? A waiter! What a cosmopolitan assembly appeared to be gathered -together in the drawing-room. - -The voices within seemed raised. Walter Hammond’s and Basil Carter’s -voices were very audible. I fancied I heard also the “lovely” accent -of which Jane had spoken. Mamma was unmistakable. It appeared that an -argument was taking place inside, which was growing warmer by rapid -degrees, with the promise of becoming, at an early moment, absolutely -hot. Just as I reached the door, and was about to turn the handle, it -was opened from within, with something of a flourish. I chose to take -it as having been opened for me, and walked straight in. - -My appearance created a sensation, that I needed no one to tell me. -Still less did I need to be told that it was a sensation of a curious -kind. An argument had been taking place which bore a tolerable -imitation to something else. That was plain. It seemed probable that -pressure had been brought to bear upon the dignitary of the Imperial -Hotel to induce him to take himself away, and that that pressure had -been applied in vain. Basil Carter had his hand upon the door-knob, -his air suggesting something more than command, while there was -something in Walter Hammond’s attitude which hinted at measures of a -distinctly vigorous kind. Had I not arrived just then, I am inclined -to think that steps would very shortly have been taken to bring that -dignitary of the Imperial Hotel to a proper sense of his position. -Considering his physique, it is tolerably certain that those who -undertook the task of persuasion might have found that there were -difficulties in the way. So far as I could judge--and I had pretty -good opportunities--he was not the least collected person present. -When I entered, he stood about the centre of the room, his hat and -stick in one hand, a bunch of flowers in the other. Even in height he -towered above Walter Hammond, who was no dwarf, while, so far as girth -went, he would easily have made two of any of the others. He was -smiling on his company, and I am afraid even on mamma, in a manner -which was hardly deferential; but when he saw me he commenced to -salute me with a bow of the deepest deference. - -I say commenced, because he actually got no farther than what I should -call the impulse. He began, but in the very act of beginning, as it -were, stopped short, as if something which he saw in me had stricken -him with temporary paralysis--paralysis which was decidedly not the -result of a flattering cause. He was, possibly by profession--for a -waiter must know how to control his countenance--a master of the art -of keeping his feelings out of his face. That he was surprised, I was -uncomfortably convinced--surprised almost to the verge of being -dumfounded. Yet he managed to prevent that fact being betrayed by his -features. His expression, so to speak, was held in suspense. But -presently it became eloquent enough. - -I have heard something about the insolence of foreigners. I know a -girl who has lived most of her life abroad, and I have heard her say -that while foreigners are the politest creatures on earth, they are -the most insolent too. I had an example of it then. That sublimated -person of the waiter class had evidently expected to see one kind of a -girl, and actually saw another. For a moment or two he was still, -looking me, all the while, full in the face. Then he smiled, not only -at me, but also at the others, and he said, his slightly foreign -accent emphasising his sneering intention: - -“What a difference between the night and the morning!” - -Swinging the flowers which he held in his hand, which had certainly -been intended for me, he marched past me, straight out of the room, -without another word, still smiling. As he opened the hall-door to let -himself out, he laughed--such a laugh! - -I knew, as well as if I had seen him do it, that as soon as he was -down the steps, he threw the flowers which had been meant for me out -into the street. - -Had he struck me across the face with his stick, he could not have -branded me with a more distinctive mark of ignominy--he, a waiter! The -charm of it was, that no one showed the slightest sign of resenting -his behaviour. I was speechless. I had anticipated some difficulty -with my tongue, but in the presence of that sublimity of insult, it -refused to do its office altogether. My confusion was rendered worse -confounded by the horrible embarrassment of the men by whom I found -myself confronted. Their astonishment at the personality which my -entrance had discovered--in such bewildering contrast to the glorious -being of whom they had dreamed--was evidently so great as to be beyond -their capacity of concealment. It not only robbed them of their -senses, but also of their manners. They offered me no sort of -greeting, not acknowledging my presence by a word or movement, but -could only stand and stare and gasp, probably anathematising -themselves internally for the crassness of their folly. - -Those well-bred gentlemen! - -The continued silence became so hideous that it had to be broken, even -though I had to break it myself. I could not stay there and petrify -before their stony gaze. It cost me a severe muscular spasm to break -loose from the trammels of the sort of tetanus by which I was -afflicted. And when I did the result was ludicrously inadequate. My -intention was to be garrulous, a lava stream of words. All I could say -was this: - -“You don’t want me. I needn’t stay.” - -It was true, the concentrated essence of truth. But as an illustration -of the resources of the English language, it seemed hardly equal to -the occasion. It was such a stupid, such an uncouth, thing to say--so -utterly in character. The consciousness that this was so--that I was, -by the decree of nature, a stupid, uncouth, gawky idiot--was the last -straw. I turned to make my way out of the room as best I could. - -My turning woke, at least, one of the gentlemen to some sense of the -requirements of his position--the brown man. He had shown himself, -last night, to be the owner of considerable stores of presence of -mind; he proved, now, that he possessed some remnants still--even -though they were, as remnants are apt to be, of somewhat dubious -quality. Advancing a half-step towards where I was, he checked me in -my retreat. - -“Pardon me, one moment, Miss O’Brady.” I was not Miss O’Brady. I -longed, even then, to tell him so. But, fortunately, I did manage to -refrain. “I am here to offer you my apologies.” I was perfectly sure -that he had come there with no intention of the kind. “I fear that -last night I behaved with scant discretion. I frightened you. I think -I must have been a little off my head. I beg that it is in that light -that you will regard the singularity of my conduct; and can now only -assure you that I am ready to lay at your feet my excuses, my regrets, -my confession of misbehaviour, in any form you may command.” - -He did not seem to see that his words, which were more than a little -artificial, were not so much an apology as a fresh offence. He had -made love to me because he was a little off his head, had he? What a -compliment, under the circumstances, the idea conveyed. I should have -liked to have pinched him, or done something more emphatic still, and, -perhaps, something more undignified. Instead of which I merely -replied, with an awkward clumsiness of which I was only too keenly -sensitive: - -“Pray, don’t apologise! It doesn’t matter in the least.” - -I gave no one else an opportunity to utter a syllable. The sight of -their continued dumbness was more than flesh and blood could endure; -and, above all, what the brown man had the audacity to call his -apology. I strode out into the hall, and I am afraid I banged the door -after me as I went. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - ON THE SINGULAR EFFECTS OF SUNLIGHT - -When I regained my bedroom, which, in spite of its manifold and -ostentatious deficiencies, I had long regarded as a harbour of refuge -in which I might find shelter when the storms of life pressed too -hardly, I took out of my dress pocket--I always insisted on having a -pocket in my dress, whatever the fashion was, it was the one point on -which I would have my way--that scrap of paper. It was blank. That -sentence must have been written on it with vanishing ink, because -already not a trace of it could be seen. That process of fading must -have proceeded with marvellous rapidity. I held in my hand a soiled, -crumpled piece of paper, which was so void of anything in the shape of -written characters, that I was at a loss as to which side of it those -mysterious words had been on. - -The brief hour of my triumph had faded too. I was again the plain, -uninteresting Norah O’Brady; the ugly girl with the pretty sisters; -the overgrown gawk, who always looked so ridiculous in the clothes she -wore. As I had once heard myself described--the creature with the -hands and feet. I was that pleasant person again, this time for ever -and a day. I could hardly expect a second miraculous interference with -the ordinance of nature. - -And the story of that interposition would be scored up against me, in -the family debtor and creditor account, to be used as another missile, -when the tale of Norah’s clumsiness, bearishness, multitudinous -stupidities, was once more the well-worn domestic theme. How amusing -it would be to recall the day when the five men took her out to dine. -How incredible it seemed, and, indeed, was. One must have dreamed it. -By degrees, quite possibly, a legend would grow up that it was an -elaborate practical joke which those five gentlemen had planned among -themselves. And the Duke who called on her! You wouldn’t think it to -look at her, would you? No one ever does believe it; but he actually -did. And the bald-headed old horror! And that waiter!--a waiter, -actually, my dear!--such a ridiculous fellow! Don’t you remember how -impertinent he was to her? How he treated her as if she were the dirt -beneath his feet! It was the funniest thing you ever saw. - -I knew. My prophetic soul saw it all in store for me, being acquainted -with the family methods where anything which would point a gibe -against me was concerned. - -Putting on my hat I went out. The atmosphere of the house, even of my -own room, was insupportable. It would not have been surprising if -someone had endeavoured to stay me, for with Jane, assisted only by a -charwoman, I had to play the part of second maid. But no one did. I -was conscious that someone came to the drawing-room window as I went -by. But I did not notice who it was; and as, so far as I know, no -attempt was made to attract my attention, I did not care. - -I steered for Kensington Gardens. They were the nearest available -approach to the country for which I was always longing; and there, -sometimes, one could be alone with the grass, and the trees, and the -birds. That was my dominant feeling: the desire to get away from -everyone, from everything. To transplant myself from this world, in -which I had been, and was, and should be, such an utter failure. If I -could only find myself in a different environment, in some place where -people were not principally concerned with each other’s appearance, -where one could dress as one pleased, and do as one chose, and be -comfortable, and yet not be the subject of perpetual comment; where -one could have liberty to be a woman, a girl, in one’s own way, which -would not be such a dreadful way after all, where one could be even -huge and plain and not despised, what a place that would be. - -As I tramped through the trees, seeking a spot which was not overrun -with nursemaids, and all kinds of persons, I perceived no prospect of -ever finding such a haven; unless, perhaps, it were by way of the -Round Pond, if it contains water to cover a person of my unseemly -inches. On the other side of it, almost obscured by the trunk of a -great oak, I saw two chairs. Not only were they unoccupied, but there -seemed to be no one in their immediate neighbourhood. So I planted -myself in one. In Kensington Gardens no one ever sits upon the grass. -Not only would it be in the highest degree improper, but it would -spoil one’s clothes, and everyone would stare, and take one for quite -a common person. Such an act would be impossible. If one sits at all, -one sits upon a chair,--as I did then, though I would infinitely have -preferred the ground, and my back against a tree, because the chair -was most uncomfortable. And I prepared to lash myself with pessimistic -and painful reflections on some such cheerful topic as the Vanity of -Human Wishes--please put in the capital letters. - -Unfortunately, the sun was shining; and when the sun shines, and I am -out-of-doors, and the air is fresh and sweet, and one feels that the -summer is at hand, and there is no unsympathetic person to stick pins -in you, somehow I never can make as much of my distresses as I ought -to; they seem to melt. To begin with, they are solid; in fact, -immensely solid, and I mean to keep them solid. Indeed, I often set -out with the deliberate intention of considering nothing else but -their immense solidity, and allowing nothing to interfere with my -consideration either. Then, in some way, the sunshine gets into my -eyes, or head, or something, and has a sort of a kind of a dazzling -effect. It must have, because, all of a sudden, they are gone--or seem -gone. I cannot see them anywhere. Of course, it is absurd, and most -illogical; because, all the time, they must be there. But it really is -fatal for me to start thinking of my grievances in fine weather. No -matter how resolved I am to stick to the subject, I never can keep my -mind fixed on them when the sun is shining, and I am -out-of-doors--never. - -It was like that, then. I had not been on that chair three minutes -when Ben Morgan came and seated himself on the one just next. I was -too surprised for words, having had no notion that he was anywhere -within miles. His coming in that unexpected and startling fashion -knocked all the ideas clean out of my head, except the consciousness -of my disgraceful conduct to him the day before. But his tact was -marvellous; I always have been struck by it. He never hinted at it by -so much as a syllable. And presently, to my absolute amazement, I -found myself chattering away as if I had come out for that especial -purpose. - -We began with what was in the newspaper, which I did not happen to -have seen, though, from what I could gather from him, I had not lost -much. And then--well then, the subject was changed. A white poodle -crossed in front of us, and we began talking about dogs. We were both -of us very fond of dogs, and, indeed, all sorts of animals; so that it -was a topic which was interesting to us both. Then the subject was -changed again. Became personal. Drifted, as it were. I have always -laughed at people who did that sort of thing in Kensington Gardens. I -never thought I should have done it--never. But it became sunnier and -sunnier every moment, until I was looking at everything through a -golden haze. - -Well--I said I would. And when I confessed my shame and my contrition -for my behaviour to him yesterday, he said it did not matter--nothing -mattered now. And I was the happiest girl in the world! As for being -sorry because that fatal power of mine had endured for so short a -time, it was the best thing that could have happened. I was delighted. -How awful it would have been if everyone I met had kept on falling in -love with me right off--high and low, married and single, young and -old--when I wanted to be loved by no one else but Ben. - -When I told him, in a muddly way, of what had occurred, you should -have seen how deliciously he was amused. Though he did say one -ridiculous thing--that he could see nothing miraculous in people -falling in love with me at sight, since no man worth his salt could -help it. Of course I knew that that was one of love’s sweet perjuries. -I am not sure that truth is always the thing which is most to be -desired. - -He is not at all mis-shapen, really; or, if he is, the tiniest scrap: -I love him all the more because of it. To me, he will always be -straighter than I am; and, ever since I was the merest tot, for -straightness, I have been a perfect grenadier. - -He would walk home with me; and he told them about it, then and there. -You should have seen mamma and the girls when we walked in together. -We had actually forgotten lunch; it was quite late in the afternoon; -they were beginning to wonder what had become of me. When they learnt, -their faces were a study. But they were positively as nice as possible -to both of us. Mamma kissed me, and was quite sweet to Ben; and -Audrey, in particular, said some lovely things. - -... We are going to have that scrap of paper, on which the writing -was, framed, and hung up in--in our bedroom. - - [The End] - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -Alterations to the text: - -Add TOC. - -Change several instances of _anyrate_ to _any rate_. - -Minor punctuation fixes. - -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. - -[Chapter III] - -“I am a kind of raree show, So whenever...” change comma to period. - -[Chapter V] - -“among all my compeers. am best qualified...” change period to comma. - -[Chapter IX] - -“than to the end of a _women’s_ arm.” to _woman’s_. - -“scarcely saying _bo_! to a goose” to _boo_. - -[Chapter XVIII] - -Change “when they were _yonng_” to _young_. - -Change “on the _otber_ side of the top...” to _other_. - -[Chapter XX] - -“or rage. or something.” change the period after _rage_ to a comma. - -Change “But this time I _sha’n’t_ mind.” to _shan’t_. - -[Chapter XXV] - -Change “A _promonitory_ something was...” to _premonitory_. - - [End of Text] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGNETIC GIRL *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/64957-0.zip b/old/64957-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 14c7515..0000000 --- a/old/64957-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64957-h.zip b/old/64957-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c8e4e8b..0000000 --- a/old/64957-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64957-h/64957-h.htm b/old/64957-h/64957-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 7719763..0000000 --- a/old/64957-h/64957-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10783 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" version="-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" xml:lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"/> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <title> - The Magnetic Girl, by Richard Marsh - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* Headers and Divisions */ - h1, h2, h3 {margin:2em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} - - .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} - - div.tp {text-align:center;} /* title page */ - -/* General */ - - body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} - - p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:2em;} - p.center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.noindent {text-indent:0em;} - p.sign2 {margin:0em 2em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} - p.spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.end {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - - p.toc_1 {margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} - - div.letter {padding:1em 1em 1em 3em;} - - span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} - - span.chap_sub {font-size:80%;} - - span.font70 {font-size:70%;} - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Magnetic Girl, by Richard Marsh</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Magnetic Girl</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Richard Marsh</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 29, 2021 [eBook #64957]<br />[Last updated: June 5, 2022]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGNETIC GIRL ***</div> - -<div class="tp"> -<h1> -THE MAGNETIC GIRL -</h1> - -BY<br/> -RICHARD MARSH<br/> -<span class="font70">AUTHOR OF<br/> -“<i>The Beetle</i>,” “<i>Curios: Some Strange Adventures of Two Bachelors</i>,”<br/> -“<i>Ada Vernham, Actress</i>,” “<i>Mrs Musgrave and Her Husband</i>,”<br/> -“<i>The Twickenham Peerage</i>,” <i>etc.</i></span> -<br/><br/><br/><br/> -London<br/> -John Long<br/> -13 and 14 Norris Street, Haymarket<br/> -1903 -</div> - - -<h2> -COPYRIGHT. -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -<i>Copyright by John Long 1903<br/> -All Rights Reserved</i> -</p> - - -<h2> -CONTENTS. -</h2> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch01">CHAPTER I. A MAN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch02">CHAPTER II. WOMEN’S VOICES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch03">CHAPTER III. THE UNFINISHED SENTENCE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch04">CHAPTER IV. THE EPISODE OF THE BAKER’S BOY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch05">CHAPTER V. THE FURTHER EPISODES OF THE SHOP-WALKER AND THE ARTIST IN -HAIR</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch06">CHAPTER VI. MISS NORAH FEELS ODD</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch07">CHAPTER VII. MISS NORAH RECEIVES TWO GENTLEMEN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch08">CHAPTER VIII. MEN ARE DECEIVERS EVER</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch09">CHAPTER IX. MORE TREACHERY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch10">CHAPTER X. THE COMPROMISE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch11">CHAPTER XI. THE TURNING OF THE WORM</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch12">CHAPTER XII. MISS NORAH’S SOLILOQUY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch13">CHAPTER XIII. JANE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch14">CHAPTER XIV. A QUARTER TO SEVEN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch15">CHAPTER XV. TRAMPLING UPON FIVE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch16">CHAPTER XVI. THE DINNER WHICH FAILED</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch17">CHAPTER XVII. THE BROWN MAN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch18">CHAPTER XVIII. BEFORE THE CURTAIN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch19">CHAPTER XIX. AN UNREHEARSED EFFECT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch20">CHAPTER XX. THE BROUGHAM</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch21">CHAPTER XXI. THE SINGULAR WOOING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch22">CHAPTER XXII. I BEHAVE LIKE A GOOSE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch23">CHAPTER XXIII. “UNTIL?”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch24">CHAPTER XXIV. THE FINISHED SENTENCE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch25">CHAPTER XXV. THE BROWN MAN’S APOLOGY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch26">CHAPTER XXVI. ON THE SINGULAR EFFECTS OF SUNLIGHT</a> -</p> - - -<h2> -THE MAGNETIC GIRL -</h2> - -<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> -CHAPTER I.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A MAN</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to anyone. I -really hardly know how to begin to tell about it. I was doing my hair -before the looking-glass in my bedroom—and I could not help noticing -that it was rather a curious colour, though my eyes were nearly -blinded by tears of rage, and something else. The rage was because -Lilian and Audrey and Eveleen and Doris, and mother too, had been -saying all the nasty things they could to me. The something else was -because Benjamin Morgan had asked me to be his wife. -</p> - -<p> -There—it’s out! My first proposal of marriage—my very, very first! -and that it should have come from him! It made me go hot all over with -shame and disgust and a most singular variety of feelings. -</p> - -<p> -They had been teasing me about him for ever so long; congratulating -me—of course, with the most biting sarcasm—on having made a conquest -at last. I am twenty-three, and nearly twenty-four, and no man ever -paid me the least attention—until Mr Morgan began. And I wished he -had not; because they made the most dreadful fun of him, and teased me -more than they had ever done before—which is saying more than words -can describe—on account of his being a hunchback. At least, he’s not -exactly a hunchback, though they say he is: but I do like to be -accurate, and I don’t care who laughs at me, and I’m quite sure that -it’s only one shoulder which is a little higher than the other. -There’s no denying that he is rather short for a man. His nurse -dropped him when he was a baby. For years they never thought that he -would live. If it were not for that there would be nothing against -him. He has a nice face,—no one can say that there is anything the -matter with that; with big black eyes, and the sweetest smile, and the -pleasantest voice. He was the most thoughtful person I ever met. As -generous as could be. He never said disagreeable things about anyone. -I never saw him impatient, or out of temper. Though he had a way, -sometimes, of making you understand that he was hurt by something -which had been said or done, which made you feel that you were a -perfect wretch. -</p> - -<p> -If he had not been crooked! They never ceased to laugh at me because -of “Crooked Ben,”—as they loved to call him. It got to such a state -that I grew to hate the sight of him. At the mere mention of his name -I would go hot all over;—they were always dragging him in by the head -and ears! Persisting—in season and out of season!—in telling me how -glad they were that I had some sort of an admirer at last, even if it -wasn’t a very straight one. That made me so wild that I would declare -that he was no admirer of mine, though I could not help but suspect -the contrary. Then, of course, they would go on worse than ever, -saying that having a lover like that was almost like having two: -because he had two such different sides to him that no one would -suppose that the one belonged to the other; and that when he was my -husband I might call one side of him by one name, and the other by -another. I have not the very best of tempers, and when they talked -like that I would fly into such rages; vowing and declaring that -nothing on earth would ever induce me to have anything to do with him, -and that nothing was further from his mind than the idea of asking me, -since I had given him no sort of encouragement, but, on the contrary, -had given him clearly to understand that I did not desire even his -acquaintance. -</p> - -<p> -And now, in spite of all my vows and declarations, he had actually -made me a proposal of marriage. If they ever came to hear of it I -might as well go into a lunatic asylum at once; because they would -certainly end by driving me there. -</p> - -<p> -And yet I was not so sure as I should have liked to have been that I -was beside myself with indignation at the mere notion of his audacity. -Though, of course, I was wild. But, I suppose, the fact is, if you -never have had a proposal from anyone, in a kind of a way it is -interesting to have an offer from anyone or anything,—even from, in a -manner of speaking, a monkey on a stick. If only just to know what it -sounds like and how it’s done. -</p> - -<p> -Everything was against Mr Morgan from the very start;—I will own -that. When he met me I was in a red-hot rage. If a king on his throne -had asked me to be his wife I should have felt like scratching him. -Mother had just been telling me that I was getting dowdier and -dowdier, and uglier and uglier every day, and if that sort of remark -makes anyone feel like sugar and spice and all that’s nice, then all I -can say is that it doesn’t me. I had really gone out to get something -in High Street. But the thought of what a dreary waste my life -actually was made me turn away from shops in disgust, and seek the -solitude of Kensington Gardens. I had scarcely gone fifty yards along -the Broad Walk when I all but ran against Mr Morgan. The sight of him -made me madder than ever. He just looked at me. When he was near I -used to have a horrid feeling that he understood me almost as well as -I did myself; and that he more than suspected that I was an ugly -duckling in my way almost as much as he was in his. It made me wild, -the idea of being bracketed, in any sense whatever, with him. -</p> - -<p> -I noticed what a shiny top-hat he had on,—I never saw anyone who wore -more beautiful top-hats; his taste was excellent; he was always -faultlessly dressed. I was filled with a vindictive desire to knock -off his hat with my parasol, and kick it; I did so feel like kicking -someone. There can be no real doubt that I have both a bad temper and -savage instincts. But so far was he from realising what was passing -through my mind that he gave me what was unmistakably a look of -sympathy;—there is nothing I hate so much as being sympathised with. -The thought that he was doing so made me wilder than ever. But before -I had a chance of snubbing him he began— -</p> - -<p> -“I was just thinking of you, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a pity you were not better employed,” I retorted, with a -conspicuous display of both gratitude and good breeding. -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you. Your pity is wasted. I could not be better employed.” -</p> - -<p> -His unruffled air made me disposed to be ruder than ever; and I was -just about to tell him that it was most unfortunate that he had no -better occupation for his time, when off he started,—right in the -middle of the Broad Walk, in front of all the people, without the -slightest prelude. -</p> - -<p> -“I could hardly be better employed than in thinking of the woman I -wish to make my wife. And you are she.—Norah, will you be my wife?” -</p> - -<p> -I was so startled,—genuinely startled, that I was thrown all in a -fluster. That he had had some faint notion at the back of his head I -had feared; I do not mind admitting it. But that it had anything like -come to a head I had never imagined. That I do protest. Still less had -I supposed that, under any circumstances, he would blurt it out in -that public place, and in that extraordinary manner. It was entirely -contrary to my most cherished notions. I could conceive of a -declaration being led up to gradually—of its taking a final form in -some delicate phrase, amidst suitable surroundings, at an appropriate -moment. -</p> - -<p> -But that, five seconds after encountering me in a tearing temper, -amidst crowds of people, anyone should ask me, in a casual sort of -manner, to be his wife, as if he were asking for the next dance—that -I had not conceived of as possible. I felt, for the moment, as if I -was breathless; looking at him as if to make sure whether I could -believe the evidence of my eyes and ears. -</p> - -<p> -“What did you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“I asked you if you will be my wife. Will you, Norah?” -</p> - -<p> -Not a word about love. Not a hint of any admiration he might feel; of -regard which had been gradually growing up within his breast. Not a -sign of perturbation. I had read about the awkward shyness, the -painful self-consciousness, with which some men approached that most -delicate of subjects. There were no symptoms of anything of the kind -about Mr Benjamin Morgan. At least, he did not wear them on his -exterior. His tone and manner could not have been more matter-of-fact, -if he had been asking me whether I thought that it was going to rain. -I was so taken aback, that I hardly knew how to treat him. I tried -dignity. -</p> - -<p> -“Is this a jest?” I inquired. “If so, you must allow me to observe -that I don’t think it is quite in the best of taste.” -</p> - -<p> -“If it were a jest, it would be in the very worst of taste. But it is -not a jest, and you know it.” -</p> - -<p> -Really, he was even more dignified than I was. Had I not known it was -impossible, I might have supposed that he was snubbing me on account -of the suggestion I had made. As if it had not been the most -reasonable one in the world. I said nothing. The truth is, I could -think of nothing to say. The position was such an excessively peculiar -one, that I did not feel myself at once capable of treating him with -the crushing scorn which I was becoming rapidly conscious he deserved. -What he imagined my silence meant, I cannot say; but though it seems -nearly incredible, I am almost drawn to the conclusion that he took it -to imply encouragement. The calm way in which he went on talking -forces me to think it. -</p> - -<p> -“I do not fancy we have had very happy lives, either you or I. I take -it that we have both led Robinson Crusoe sort of existences, on desert -islands of our own. I am a lonely man; you are a lonely girl.” -</p> - -<p> -“I a lonely girl! Are you forgetting that I have four sisters and a -mother?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I am not forgetting it. But one may have a host of mere -relations, and yet be all alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mere relations!” I liked the word. I began to bristle all over. How -dare he speak of my four sisters—not to mention mamma!—as “mere” -relations. His assurance was increasing. I had never supposed him -capable of such audacity. -</p> - -<p> -“I will trouble you to speak of my family with respect, Mr Morgan, and -not as if they were persons of absolutely no account.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing was further from my wish than to speak of any member of your -family with disrespect. But I think that even you will admit that, -even in your own home, you are alone.” -</p> - -<p> -It made me furious to hear him say so,—even though it might be true. -It was no business of anybody’s how my own people chose to treat me; -they had no right to even notice. Nothing is more unpleasant than to -have a stranger spying on what happens to you in the bosom of your own -family. And so I longed to tell him. -</p> - -<p> -“You are quite mistaken, Mr Morgan. I am not lonely—not in the very -least—ever! And I cannot conceive what leads you to suppose that I -am.” -</p> - -<p> -“I recognise the chivalry which prompts your answer.” -</p> - -<p> -“Chivalry!—What are you talking about, Mr Morgan?—Have you lost your -senses?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; not yet. As I trust that you will afford me opportunities of -proving to you. I at least am lonely—I believe the very loneliest -creature in the whole world. I want you to take pity on my solitude.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am very sorry for you if you are so much alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course I mean it. Why do you persist in hinting that I keep on -saying what I don’t mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you do mean it—really mean it—then you have made of me the -happiest of men.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s nonsense. It’s absurd to say that my being sorry for you can -make you happy.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is not absurd; because if you are really sorry—as you say you -are—you will put an end to my loneliness.” -</p> - -<p> -I looked at him, beginning to get red all over. It commenced to dawn -upon me what he meant. I had not supposed that he was a master of such -roundabout ways. -</p> - -<p> -“I quite fail to understand you, Mr Morgan.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it not plain that, if you are really sorry for me, you will be my -wife? And then I can assure you, from the bottom of my heart, that I -shall be the happiest of men.” -</p> - -<p> -Such insidious methods of arriving at entirely erroneous conclusions I -was unaccustomed to. It was becoming momentarily plain to me that I -had not known Mr Benjamin Morgan so well as I imagined. I had supposed -that he was an artless sort of person; and now it almost began to -appear that he was a regular Jesuit. -</p> - -<p> -“I do wish, Mr Morgan, that you would not talk nonsense. I am not -feeling very well, and I can assure you that I am in anything but a -mood for frivolity.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then our moods are in sympathy. You surely do not suggest that to ask -you to be my wife is to be frivolous. It is to me the most important -question that ever yet was asked. The expression of your sympathy -emboldens me to put it again.—Norah, please say that you will be my -wife.” -</p> - -<p> -He raised his hand, and with the tips of his fingers touched my -arm—out there in the Broad Walk, before all the people. Something -seemed, all at once, to go right through me;—whether it was the -sudden surprise of his touch, or the strangeness of his tone, I could -not say. But for the moment I felt almost inclined to cry—and to do -something much worse. For one dreadful second I was almost on the -verge of making a perfect idiot of myself. It is frightful to think of -such a thing being possible, but I am nearly disposed to believe that -if we had been alone, and there had been nothing to divert my -attention, I might have done. But just at that second I saw Lena -Portch coming towards us with Mr Champneys, and the smile which she -gave made me frantic. She is Lilian’s particular friend, and quite as -fond of chaffing me about “Crooked Ben” as any of them. I could not -but suspect that there might be something a little peculiar about our -attitude, and the way we were behaving to one another. The idea that I -should allow him to make a public spectacle of me, and furnish Lena -with a first-rate tale for Lilian, was unendurable. I became all at -once so angry—so stupidly angry!—that I forgot my manners -altogether, not to speak of any fragments of common decency which I -may suppose myself to possess, and behaved myself like the absolute -little wretch which at heart I am. -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you. I am obliged to you for your offer, Mr Morgan. But I do -not care to marry just at present; and, when I do marry, I intend to -marry a man.” -</p> - -<p> -No one need tell me that it was a perfectly disgraceful thing to say. -No one could have been better aware of it than I was. I could have -bitten my own tongue off for having said it the very moment -afterwards: I never should have said it at all if it had not been for -the horrid smile I saw on Lena’s face, and my instant perception of -the sort of yarn she would make all possible haste to spin. I know -that that is not the least excuse; but it is all the excuse I have to -offer,—I could cry at the mere thought of it even now. -</p> - -<p> -Lena and Mr Champneys passed on. Mr Morgan was still. He just looked -at me once,—a startled, dreadful sort of look; and then he looked -away, walking on by my side in silence. I seemed somehow to have -caught a sudden chill. I was shivering all over,—I could have beaten -myself with pleasure. How long the silence lasted, or how far we -walked before we spoke again, I have not the faintest notion. But I -know that at last he stood still, and turned, and looked at me,—and -there was something in his look which seemed to make my heart go cold -as ice. He said—there was a quiver in his voice which made me flinch -as if he had struck me with a whip,— -</p> - -<p> -“When you do marry, you intend to marry a man. I had not thought, Miss -Norah, that you would have said that to me. Good-day;—and good-bye.” -</p> - -<p> -He raised his hat, and walked away, and left me speechless, rooted to -the ground, feeling, as I deserved to feel, like an utter fool;—like -a wicked, cruel, thoughtless, idiotic fool,—and worse than that! -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch02"> -CHAPTER II.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">WOMEN’S VOICES</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">He</span> never looked round once; though I stood where he had left me, -looking after him till he was lost among the crowd. What people -thought of me I cannot say. And I didn’t care. They must have supposed -that I was a sort of Lot’s wife, turned into a pillar, or something. -But, at that moment, what other people thought of me did not matter in -the least. What I thought of myself was a nightmare. I marched off -home, feeling as if I would have liked to have pinched everyone I met. -I passed Lena Portch, who was still with Mr Champneys,—a most -objectionable person, who <i>will</i> wear shepherd’s-plaid trousers, which -I abominate. Lena was to blame for everything. She stood at the gate -as I was coming out of the Gardens. Directly afterwards I saw that she -was crossing the road. I am sure, if a motor car, which almost made an -end of me, had knocked her down, and run right over her, I would not -have turned a hair. If Mr Champneys does marry her I hope he’ll beat -her. I have a moral conviction that he is just that kind of creature. -What can a man be like who lives in shepherd’s-plaid trousers? -</p> - -<p> -When I reached home I was hot, and dishevelled, and all anyhow. I knew -I should get it directly I set foot inside the door,—that is, unless -I could manage to slip upstairs before anyone caught sight of me. And -I got it—mamma opened the door for me herself. We had had a -difficulty with our servants. It is my belief that when five women -live alone in a house together they always are having difficulties -with their servants. I know we were. The cook and the parlour-maid had -left at a moment’s notice—or, rather, without a moment’s notice. -Lilian and Audrey had complained about the state their things were in, -as if they had been worn. Inquiries had been made, and there was quite -a scene: I should not be surprised if the cook had worn some of -Lilian’s frocks—they had just about the same figure. Anyhow, only the -housemaid remained, and she was in two minds. And as, as yet, we had -been able to get no one in to help her, we were at her mercy. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, mamma,” I exclaimed, when I saw that it was she who had opened -the door, “where is Jane?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s Jane’s afternoon out; and, of course, I should not dream of -asking her to inconvenience herself to oblige me. It’s the mistresses -who are the servants nowadays. What a state you’re in.” -</p> - -<p> -She spoke in her most acid tones. Mamma is not very tall, and rather -dumpy, and though she always dresses in black silk she never appears -imposing, though she tries her best to think she does. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what’s the matter with me? I’ve been walking fast, and am rather -hot,—that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“All! Haven’t I forbidden you to walk fast? Are you not aware that -nothing accentuates the unfortunate vulgarity of your appearance so -much as heat? Your hat is on one side, your hair is out of curl, your -necktie is under your chin. You look positively blowsy. I am ashamed -to see such a figure entering my house. And where are the things?” -</p> - -<p> -“Things?” I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten all about them. I -had intended to get them as I returned from my stroll in Kensington -Gardens; but what had taken place there had driven them right out of -my head. “I meant to get them as I came back, but—I didn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Meant to get them as you came back! What do you mean? Did I not send -you out for them, and for them only?” -</p> - -<p> -“Surely, Norah, you have not come back without my stockings? You know -perfectly well that I can’t wear those shoes without them; nothing I -have will do at all.—And where’s my matching?” -</p> - -<p> -Lilian had appeared out of the dining-room. She had bought a new pair -of brown shoes, which she wanted to wear that evening, and it seemed -that nothing she had in the way of hose was of quite the proper shade. -She had given me a scrap of material which was the shade. It seemed -that I had not only forgotten her stockings, but lost the matching. -She let me have it when she became aware of the fact. Lilian is tall; -and—sometimes—stately; and is considered smart; but she can be -disagreeable, and most abusive. In fact, they can all of them be that. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Norah, you are the most stupid person I ever met. Some people -might suppose that you could not be so stupid as you look; but, I will -do you the justice to admit that you appear to try your very best to -be.” -</p> - -<p> -That was a pleasant thing to say! While I was searching about for -something nice and stinging to reply, Doris came out of the -morning-room on to the top of the stairs, and she began: -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose, Norah, that you have brought my fringe-nets, because I -simply can’t do my hair until I have them. I’ve just torn my very -last.” -</p> - -<p> -Then she supposed wrong, because I had not; and so I told her. The -bathroom door was opened, and Audrey’s voice was heard. I never knew -anyone for baths like Audrey. She likes to have three or four a day, -with the water about up to boiling-point, and oatmeal in it; and there -she lies and stews. What good she thinks it does her is beyond me. I -am sure it doesn’t make her skin any whiter. It couldn’t. It’s -perfectly white and as smooth as satin already. I only wish mine was -like it. -</p> - -<p> -“Is that Norah? Has she brought that ribbon for my bodice? Because if -she has, I’ll put it in at once.” -</p> - -<p> -There was no ribbon to be got out of me, neither for her bodice, nor -for anything else, as Eveleen, who had followed Lilian out of the -dining-room, proceeded to explain. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh dear no! she’s brought nothing, except herself;—and a pretty self -she looks. Upon my word, Norah, I wonder that you can’t manage to keep -yourself a trifle tidy—say about as tidy as the average charwoman. -Especially as you can’t afford to look as if you had got your clothes -on inside out. Some girls can; but, I assure you, you’re not one of -them.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen is one of your dainty bandbox sort of girls. She never wears a -pin. All her clothes seem to be part of her. You might live with her -for years and never know that she even used hairpins. How she prevents -their ever peeping out is beyond my understanding. And as for nets, -they are put on so knowingly, and match her hair so exactly, that you -would never guess that anything of that kind could have anything to do -with the exquisite neatness of her hair. -</p> - -<p> -“We can’t all appear like barbers’ blocks, and look as if our hair -were sent home, ready dressed, with the fish every day.” -</p> - -<p> -That was what I observed. We adjourned to the dining-room, and the -discussion began. How many of them we have had of which I have been -the subject! No one ever seems to grow tired of them—except me. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah,” mamma began, “I must ask you not to be rude. Your natural -vulgarity, I suppose, you cannot help; but I will have you keep a -guard upon your tongue when you are speaking to your sisters. I cannot -understand why Providence ever afflicted me with such a child.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought, mamma, that that was a problem which you had given up some -time ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unfortunately, the affliction continues. My other daughters do me -credit”—they were all of them beauties;—that was what made it so -maddening for me. “I myself am not ill-looking.” (Mamma had been very -pretty; and still looked nice, especially at night. Only I wish she -would not wear a transformation—which seems to me to be just the same -thing as a wig. Considering that Lilian is twenty-nine, and everybody -knows it, it is so obvious.) “I therefore cannot understand how it is -that I should have a child who is not only unprepossessing, but who -cannot be induced to pay any attention to even the most elementary -rules of toilet which every gentlewoman observes. A servant would be -ashamed to appear in public in the condition in which you at present -are.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen struck in: -</p> - -<p> -“I should think so! No decent servant looks as if she had covered -herself with the contents of the rag-bag. Are you aware, Norah, that -your belt has worked up behind, and that the hooks on your skirt are -showing?” -</p> - -<p> -“And your shoe-lace is untied; and, unless I am mistaken, your -stocking is concertinaed about your ankle;—but she doesn’t mind.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Lilian. Mamma followed: -</p> - -<p> -“But <i>I</i> mind. In spite of every obstacle I have treated you exactly -as I have done your sisters. But the problem becomes more serious -every day. How do you suppose that I am ever going to get you properly -settled in life if you persist in making of yourself a scarecrow?—an -absolute figure of fun?—I am compelled to use such language.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you needn’t trouble about a trifle of that sort. She’s settled -all that for herself. She has her eye on Crooked Ben;—which is only -as it should be, because, then, they’ll be a pair of figures of fun.” -</p> - -<p> -This, again, was Lilian. The things she allows herself to say when she -is in the mood, if they heard them, would startle some of the people -who call her stately. She may consider herself ultra-refined, and I do -not deny that she looks it, but I am persuaded that at heart she is -almost as vulgar as I am. When she said that, it made me mad. I flew -at her like a wild-cat. I was just in the mood for it. -</p> - -<p> -“You talk, with a sneer, of Crooked Ben! You may have had bushels of -proposals”—she has had heaps and heaps,—“but there wasn’t one among -the lot worthy to black his boots. As for Mr Rumford, that -bald-headed, bloated object, with quack written large all over him, -you may like to have him muddling about you, but I wouldn’t touch him -with a pair of tongs.” -</p> - -<p> -Lilian went white. The truth is, she was nearly twenty-nine, and I -suppose thought it about time to have someone for a husband, and as Mr -Rumford was showing a strong inclination to apply for the position, I -rather fancy she was considering whether he would not do. He had made -piles of money out of a patent medicine called “Aunt Jane’s Jalap,” -and was really not such a bad sort in his way: though just then I was -anything but disposed to let her know I thought so. Eveleen took up -the cudgels for Lilian;—they always stand up for each other against -me. -</p> - -<p> -“What a delicate way you have of putting a thing, Norah. You and your -language are so in keeping. If you could only induce someone to -transfer you from the family of which you so entirely disapprove how -much happier you would be—and we also. Couldn’t you put the screw on -Mr Morgan? He seems to be the only chance you are ever likely to have. -Do make the most of him. Let mamma ask him what he means.” -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, Eveleen! You think yourself vastly superior to me——” -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all. Not while your complexion is quite so brilliant—I -couldn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes, you do. But you’re wrong for all that. You’ve spent your -whole life in chasing men——” -</p> - -<p> -“I rather fancied that some of them had chased me. But I daresay it’s -the same thing to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is there anything to be proud of in that? You’ve devoted your whole -life to men, anyhow, and I don’t think that’s very womanly.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think it probable that you wouldn’t—for reasons.—My dear Norah, -do use your handkerchief. There’s a drop of perspiration trickling -down your nose. Or is it a tear? It doesn’t seem to combine with -freckles.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris struck in. -</p> - -<p> -“When you people have quite finished, might I ask if I am ever going -to have any fringe-nets? I can’t remain the whole day with my hair in -curlers.” -</p> - -<p> -She had it in curlers then, and very queer she looked. No one would -have known her for the radiant Doris of her admirers. Nothing takes -the gilt off a girl’s appearance so much as curlers. Unless mamma -makes me I never use them. Thank goodness, my hair has got a curl of -its own, if it is not quite in the style of the barbers’ -fashion-plates. Mamma—who never thinks of being down on them for -anything which they may say to me—was quick at seconding Doris’ -suggestion. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, be so good as to let me hear no more from you. Both your -language and your appearance smack of the servants’ hall. You will -fetch the things I requested you to bring before. Then I will ask you -for an explanation of how it is that you have failed to bring them -now. Go up to your room, and make yourself look as decent as you -conveniently can, and be quick about it;—and not another word!” -</p> - -<p> -Lilian stood up. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose I had better find you another matching. You are sure to -bring something impossible if I don’t.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen put in her word. -</p> - -<p> -“I should say that she’s sure to bring something impossible in any -case. I would rather be excused from trusting her to get anything of -the least importance for me. I admire your courage.” -</p> - -<p> -“She had better not make any mess about those nets of mine,” cried -Doris; “or things will become exhilarating. Norah, if you tell them at -Morrel’s that they’re for me there will be no mess. I suppose you have -some sense.” -</p> - -<p> -“Doris, what an inexhaustible fund of confidence you have in Norah. It -may be sisterly; but is it wise?” -</p> - -<p> -Just as I was going to snap off Eveleen’s nose, of course mamma must -interfere: -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Norah, not another word. Do as I tell you. Go upstairs, and -endeavour to make yourself look more like a daughter of mine should -do, and then go and fetch those things—and mind there are no -mistakes.” -</p> - -<p> -I went upstairs. As I went I heard Eveleen laugh. I knew she was -laughing at me. She may have a musical laugh—I have been told -hundreds of times she has, so I suppose she must have—but it did not -sound musical to me just then. It put all my nerves on edge. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch03"> -CHAPTER III.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE UNFINISHED SENTENCE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Was</span> it strange that I was in a pretty state of mind? Was it to be -wondered at that I hardly knew if I was standing on my head or heels? -</p> - -<p> -When I got into my room I slammed the door, and turned the key. I tore -my hat off and threw it on to the bed. I could have cried; but I make -it a rule never to cry—or hardly ever. Besides, I was only too well -aware that if I once started I never should leave off; and then I -should have jumped from the frying-pan into the fire, with a -vengeance. They would tear me to pieces if I did not make haste and -get the rubbish they wanted. -</p> - -<p> -I went to the looking-glass. There was no mistake about it, I did look -hideous. There was some excuse for some of the things they said. It -has always been a conviction of mine that if they would let me dress -as I pleased I might look presentable. But they won’t let me. They all -dress like fashion-plates, and nothing could suit them better; and -they make me dress like the fashion-plates, and nothing could suit me -less. I believe they are afraid of me getting out of the picture; or, -rather, of my being a sort of picture all by myself, and so diverting -attention from them. As it is I am a kind of raree show. So whenever -they take me out with them—which is very seldom; for, in any case, -five sisters are a frightful crowd—I am either a perpetual -wallflower, or an ideal gooseberry, neither of which <i>rôles</i> I care -for in the very least. -</p> - -<p> -I am big—taller than Lilian, and much broader. I have great limbs—I -cannot help it if they are like a man’s, though mamma is always -throwing it in my teeth. I like all sorts of exercise. The only form -of exercise they really like is dancing. They dance exquisitely. My -dancing is like an elephant’s—I am always having to apologise for -getting on my partner’s toes. I should like to spend the whole of my -life in the open air. I sometimes fancy that mamma thinks there is -something improper in being out-of-doors. She is always exclaiming -against what she calls masculine women—by which she means girls who -golf, and row, and ride bicycles, and all that sort of thing. I should -like to go in for everything athletic, but they won’t let me. They -keep me fastened in a tight pair of corsets, which sometimes make me -feel as if I were being held in a vice. I am in a dreadful -condition—soft as putty, instead of hard as nails. I cannot walk a -quarter of a mile, at anything like a decent pace, without perspiring. -Then they laugh at me. If they would let me go in for some real hard -work, like lots of other girls do, I would soon show them. By nature I -am a sort of female Hercules; it is a shame that they insist on making -me a jelly-fish. -</p> - -<p> -I want to have plenty of room inside my clothes. I want my hair to do -itself; it would not look so bad with just a touch or two, even if it -ran a trifle wild. I want my boots and shoes to humour my feet, I do -not want my feet to have to humour them; I am not ashamed of their -being large. I do not want to be screwed into an imitation Paris -costume, which is too tight everywhere, and bursts when I lift my -arms. I know I look a gawk in it, and I always shall. If they would -let me be natural—my own self—I do believe I should pass muster. -Girls of my build are not meant to be made up in imitation of Dresden -china, or Watteau drawings. -</p> - -<p> -The result of such attempts was to be seen there in the mirror. A -great picture hat, with the flowers all anyhow. Flowers never will -look as they ought to on my big hats—flopping about in a lop-sided -fashion, on the crest of a draggly handful of sandy-coloured hair. It -does not look a handful; but that is because they make me wear pads -and frames, and all sorts of horrors, which will show through; and -they call it sandy, though it is my private opinion that it is a sort -of light chestnut. If they would only let me do it up in a simple -twist, and wear it on the top of my head, I am persuaded that it would -not look half bad, though I am aware that the colour is unusual. Under -the floppity hat, a good-sized face, with big grey eyes, a straight -nose, largish mouth—it is a decent shape if it is large, and the lips -are nice ones. The freckles I do not deny; but there are not more than -twelve or thirteen altogether, and they are principally on the left -side of my nose. But the perspiration I was in! It made me disgusted -to see that my skin was positively greasy, and there were beads upon -my forehead. The truth is, I am built for work, or, at any rate, for -plenty of hard out-of-doors exercise; and if I cannot get it, I am -bound to be a nuisance to myself, and an object to others. Mr Morgan, -if one of his shoulders is a little higher than the other, is an -all-round athlete, though he was so weak as a child. It is because he -has gone in for everything that he is now as strong as a horse. If I -went in for everything, I believe that inside twelve months I should -be a different person. -</p> - -<p> -I only wished that I had a chance of trying. -</p> - -<p> -When I saw what a sight I looked in that glass, and how unfitted I was -to fill the fashion-plate <i>rôle</i> for which they insisted on casting -me, I did feel that some people had all the luck, while others had -none. My chances for having a good time were slipping -away—twenty-three is an age. The good marriage I was expected to make -was a dream of the mater’s: as she was beginning bitterly to realise: -unless I married Ben Morgan, which, of course, would be absurd. -Compared with my sisters, I was not in it. Not a man would ever look -at me when they were by, or even near. Considering that it was -supposed to be my mission in life to attract men, it was really tragic -what an awful failure I was. Among the dozens who were proud to call -themselves my sisters’ friends, I doubt if there were many who even -knew my Christian name. I was quite aware how they talked of me. -</p> - -<p> -“You know that youngest O’Brady girl? Sort of understudy for a -grenadier, who looks as if she got her clothes from a dealer in -decayed wardrobes, and put them on inside out.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t mean to say that that’s the youngest?” -</p> - -<p> -“She’s the youngest in years and sense; but so far as looks and that -sort of thing is concerned, she might have come out of the ark. Can’t -think what they call the creature.” -</p> - -<p> -“What does it matter what they call a girl like that?” -</p> - -<p> -That was part of a conversation I once overheard at a dance. The first -speaker had been recently entrapped into having a waltz with me, which -I doubt if he had enjoyed. I know I hadn’t—a possible explanation of -his exceeding bitterness. But that his remarks were typical of the -kind of thing which was being said of me on all sides I had every -reason to suppose. -</p> - -<p> -What could people be expected to say of such an object as I saw before -me in that looking-glass? -</p> - -<p> -“Oh,” I cried, “if only for a short time I could have my time! If I -could only make those girls feel what I have felt—the insolence of -masculine imbeciles, the snubs of conceited boys, the contemptuous -impertinence of their uncles and their fathers, even of their -grandsires! If only I could treat some of those men as all of them -have treated me I’d give—well, it’s no use my talking about giving -anything, because I’ve just simply nothing to give; but wouldn’t I -like to have the chance.” -</p> - -<p> -I had my comb in my hand at the moment. I had torn off my hat, and was -trying to do something to my hair, without letting it down, and taking -my bodice off, and all the rest of the fuss which a girl has to go -through if she wants to titivate herself. I brought the comb down bang -whack against the dressing-table to emphasise my concluding -aspiration. -</p> - -<p> -“If only every masculine thing had to fall madly in love with me at -sight! There; now I’ve done it!” -</p> - -<p> -I had—broken the comb into two clear halves. And I had only had it a -week. I cannot think how it is that my things do break so. I should -have to buy a new one that very afternoon; though it would only be a -shilling one, because funds were low, and combs were waste of money. -</p> - -<p> -As I was surveying the broken pieces with a pretty wry face—it was a -tortoise-shell comb; I happened to know that mamma had paid -twelve-and-six for it, to match my toilet-set; she would go on when -she knew what had happened—I became conscious that something very odd -indeed was taking place. On the top of the little drawers which was on -one side of my dressing-table was half a sheet of notepaper. Just an -ordinary half-sheet which I had torn off somebody’s letter and left -there; I have a trick of keeping half-sheets. A second ago that -half-sheet was blank. Now I became aware that someone—or -something—was writing on it. I heard a faint scratching noise. -Turning, I saw that letters were forming upon the paper—how, I cannot -say. They appeared to be written in ink, though there were no signs of -a pen, and certainly none of anybody holding it. -</p> - -<p> -It was the strangest feeling, to stand there and watch words -apparently writing themselves upon that piece of paper. I know it -sounds incredible, and it is incredible; but it’s true, for all that. -It was just simply the most extraordinary thing that ever -happened—and lots of people know that extraordinary things do happen. -When you have lived to my time of life, and have had my experience, -you know that as a solemn fact. Though, I repeat once more, that that -was the most wonderful experience even I ever had. -</p> - -<p> -I cannot describe my sensations as I stood there watching. The two -halves of the comb in my hands, my hair all anyhow, my bodice -positively maddening beneath my arms, and, I was convinced, unhooked -behind, rage in my bosom, perspiration on my brow. It was so -frightfully mysterious; there is nothing I dislike like things I do -not understand, they make you feel yourself so insignificant. Then the -letters went on forming themselves before my eyes, and there I -remained looking on like a stuck pig, until I could endure it no -longer. I snatched up the paper, exclaiming: -</p> - -<p> -“What are you doing?” -</p> - -<p> -Though to whom I addressed the inquiry I have not the faintest notion. -On that half-sheet of paper, staring me in the face, were the words: -</p> - -<p> -“Your wish shall be gratified u——” -</p> - -<p> -The sentence ended with the letter “u,” just that, and nothing more. -It seemed that I had snatched it up before it was finished, so that -what the conclusion would have been was still another mystery. Though, -beside the first and chief mystery of how those words came there at -all, other considerations were but trifles. What did they mean? “Your -wish shall be gratified u——” What wish? I was continually wishing. I -never have anything, and nothing ever happens that I really want, so -it is only natural. To what wish was the reference made? For what -particular thing had I been wishing recently? -</p> - -<p> -Why—not a minute ago—with what wild words had I been easing my mind? -In my temper—my usual temper. I certainly am the worst-tempered girl -I ever met, though I believe that, as a rule, girls are worse tempered -than men—they have more cause to be, poor things. In some things it -is horrid being a girl—what was it I had said? Something about every -masculine creature tumbling head over heels in love with me at sight. -Had I not wished that that fate were mine? -</p> - -<p> -Was that the wish? No; absurd! ridiculous! preposterous! What could -put such nonsensical thoughts into my head? It just showed, when your -head was empty, what stuff could get in. But—still—— -</p> - -<p> -My gracious! If that was the wish which was to be gratified, would it -not be—wouldn’t it just be larks. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch04"> -CHAPTER IV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE EPISODE OF THE BAKER’S BOY</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">As</span> I continued wondering, with the paper still in my hand, mamma’s -voice called to me outside the door. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah! there’s the baker at the door; you must go and take in the -bread.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mamma!” I exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -“You must. Jane said she would come back for tea, but she hasn’t put -in an appearance yet. Somebody must go, and I can’t, and your sisters -are dressing; you ought to be ready by now; you must do those errands. -There, he’s knocking again—go down to him at once!” -</p> - -<p> -I obeyed. Did my hair somehow, crammed my hat on anyhow, and down the -stairs I went. A pretty task to set me! Down the kitchen stairs I -hurried, to the area door, on the glass window of which vigorous -knuckles were beating a sort of tattoo. The moment I opened it I was -greeted in the most surprising way. -</p> - -<p> -“Now then, slowcoach, you seem to take some time a-washing of -yourself! Think I’ve got nothing else to do except keep on a-waiting -here all day?” -</p> - -<p> -I was astonished. I fancy, when he saw me, that the speaker was -astonished too, though he scarcely showed it in a manner which I -thought fitting. -</p> - -<p> -“Hollo! beg pardon! my crikey! Are you the new young lady?” -</p> - -<p> -Evidently this was a person who needed a good deal of freezing. I -wondered that even Jane had not succeeded in snubbing him into better -manners. I assumed my most dignified bearing—which is not saying -much, for dignity is not my strongest point—and was as frigid as the -fact that my actual temperature was somewhere about boiling point -permitted. -</p> - -<p> -“Please give me the bread.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right! I’ll give it you with the very greatest pleasure; -and I’d like to give you something else as well.” -</p> - -<p> -And before I could stop him, this remarkable individual was off at a -gallop on a line which was distinctly his very own. -</p> - -<p> -“My name’s Bob Stevens. I’ve been walking out with the young lady what -was here before you. She left yesterday; cruel hard they treated her; -no young lady couldn’t have stood it what had any spirit. This is a -nice place, this is—five scratch-catting young women, and an old -geeser of a mother. It won’t suit you; you’ll leave at the end of your -month, they all of them do.” -</p> - -<p> -That was an outrageous falsehood. Some of our servants have stopped -with us more than a year. But it was impossible for me to contradict -him. -</p> - -<p> -“But Eliza—that’s the young lady I was a-telling you about—ain’t -quite my fancy. And if so be as you haven’t got a young man just at -present, or if you was a-feeling a bit off colour with the one you -have got, why, I’d be proud and happy to fill the situation. I’m -getting good money—five-and-twenty bob a week without perks”—I -suppose he meant perquisites—“besides money in the bank, and a few -sticks towards a home, including a drawing-room settee in sky-blue -satin what I got from a friend of mine whose wife hooked off with -another bloke. You just tell me your night out, and I’ll be there on -time, you bet your hat—and a beauty it is, regular market-garden I -call it—and if we don’t fix the day before we part, it won’t be no -fault of mine. I mean business, I do, straight.” -</p> - -<p> -Anything like that person’s volubility I never encountered. I could -not stop him. I seldom am ready of speech, and before that baker’s boy -I felt tongue-tied. Not the least amazing part of it was that he -seemed a mere lad of, at the outside, eighteen years, with a fresh -complexion, and, I should have said, a babe for innocence. It shows -how deceptive appearances are. At last I could get a word in edgeways, -and I got it. -</p> - -<p> -“I think you are mistaken.” -</p> - -<p> -But he cut me short. -</p> - -<p> -“Not much, I’m not. I’m not that sort of chap. Never make mistakes, I -don’t—at least, not of that kind. I know when I like a girl as well -as any man; and I tell you, honest, that I never was so gone on a -young lady as I am on you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I still think you are mistaken, because I happen to be one of the -five scratch-catting young women you alluded to. I am Miss Norah -O’Brady.” -</p> - -<p> -Some baker’s boys would have been abashed, but he was not. He retained -his presence of mind in a fashion I could not have equalled. And, -really, for a person in his position, he was not bad-looking. -</p> - -<p> -“Lor’, now, if I didn’t think you was a real lady! You’d have been -took for a real lady by almost anyone. You look it—every inch. A -regular queen you look. You’ll excuse me, miss, for seeming to make so -free; but, however humble a man may be, he’s still a man.” -</p> - -<p> -“Please give me the bread.” -</p> - -<p> -He began cramming loaves and things in paper bags into my arms in a -manner which I found embarrassing, talking all the time. -</p> - -<p> -“If there’s any mortal thing that I can do for you, no matter what it -is, you’ve only got to name it, and you can consider it done. What’s -more, I’m on to get you any blessed thing you want, from the Lord -Mayor’s coach to——” -</p> - -<p> -I did not wait for him to explain to what—I presume his remarks were -tailing off into metaphor—but, withdrawing into the passage, I shut -the door in his face, taking the precaution to turn the key. -</p> - -<p> -It was well I did, because he instantly tried the handle, and, when he -found it would not yield, rapping at the frosted glass panels, he -addressed me from without: -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, miss, for one single moment, but would you allow me to -say——” -</p> - -<p> -I should have thought that permission to say anything was the last -thing he would have required. Anyhow, I did not give it. -</p> - -<p> -Depositing the articles he had just given me on the kitchen table, I -marched upstairs. At the top I met mamma. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, what do you mean by carrying on an animated conversation with -the baker’s man?” I carrying on an animated conversation! My share in -it had been small. “What an extraordinary creature you are. Your -cheeks look as if they were positively burning.” -</p> - -<p> -Hers would have looked the same if she had borne my part in the scene -which had just been enacted. But I said nothing. -</p> - -<p> -“You must go and do those errands at once, your sisters are waiting. -Be as quick as you decently can, and please, if possible, forget -nothing.” -</p> - -<p> -She gave me no time to compose myself, but opening the front door with -her own hands ushered me through it, as if I were some bothering -visitor whom she was in a dreadful hurry to see the last of. -</p> - -<p> -As I might have expected, that baker’s boy was still there. He had -hardly had time to take himself off with his barrow. But that was no -reason why he should plant himself right in the centre of the -pavement, and address me, the moment I appeared, as if I had been an -equal, with mamma looking down at us from the open door. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, miss, if I seem to take a liberty, but might I ask you if -you was fond of chocolate creams?” -</p> - -<p> -I held my head a trifle higher than I might have done if mamma had not -been up there, because I <i>am</i> fond of chocolate creams, though what -business it was of his I cannot think—and I annihilated him finally: -</p> - -<p> -“If you attempt to speak to me again I shall report you to your -master, and you will find yourself without a situation.” -</p> - -<p> -I marched off and left him standing in a preposterous and most -unseemly attitude—his great basket at his side—as if glued to the -paving-stones. And I heard him mutter: -</p> - -<p> -“Cruel as the grave—and cold.” -</p> - -<p> -That ridiculous, insolent boy—he was nothing else—positively heaved -a sigh which followed me like a gust of wind, with mamma still at the -top of the front-door steps. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch05"> -CHAPTER V.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE FURTHER EPISODES OF THE SHOP-WALKER AND THE ARTIST IN HAIR</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">As</span> I marched along—remembering mamma’s instructions to be as quick -as I “decently” could, without, however, laying too much stress upon -the “decently”—I became aware of something unusual—people were -staring, especially male people. -</p> - -<p> -Now I have been stared at in the street, but I do not remember that it -was ever in what you could exactly call a flattering way. -</p> - -<p> -There can be no doubt that my person is a striking one, after a -fashion; but it is not precisely in the fashion. I am an extra large -size all over. My legs are prodigious. I stride along in a style which -some persons have said reminds them of the gentleman with the -seven-league boots. Mr Morgan was once rude enough to tell me that it -always seemed to him that it was the chief ambition of my life to -cross Regent Street in a step and a-half. When I am walking with the -others I suffer agonies, and I am thankful to think that they are not -altogether comfortable. They take about three steps to the yard—the -kind of shoes they wear won’t permit of anything else. And at such a -pace! I cannot keep up with them; and it is some satisfaction to know -they cannot keep up with me. We jangle and wrangle all the time, until -at last I go off by myself; and then we are happy. At least, I know I -am. -</p> - -<p> -This peculiarity of mine—because, I suppose, it is a peculiarity—has -more than once been commented on by perfect strangers. I once heard -one street boy remark to another, just as I was passing: -</p> - -<p> -“What yer, Bill! ’ere comes the lady grenadier! Can’t she move -’em!—and ain’t she got ’em to move!” -</p> - -<p> -Another time a dreadful creature asked of a companion: -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder if that young lady’s got stilts underneath her clothes? They -can’t be all her own.” -</p> - -<p> -That was the sort of staring I had been used to. But this was -different. Men of all sorts, of all ages, turned and looked at me. -When their eyes reached my face, there was something in them which I -did not altogether like. It gave me a curious sensation. I have seen -men stare at the others with something like that look in their eyes. I -wondered if they liked it. I was not by any means sure I did. Anyhow, -I was not accustomed to that kind of thing. I wondered what they meant -by it. -</p> - -<p> -It was not any better when I reached the draper’s. The shop-walker -opened the door for me—with such a smile. He was one of those pretty -fellows, with moustache turned up at the ends, who really are most -trying. His smile seemed to be a fixture. It kept growing larger and -larger, and, I presume, sweeter. I hate your pretty fellows. I should -like my man to be almost ugly; indeed, I should not mind if he was -quite. I spoke to him in the most snubby fashion I could command, -perceiving that this was another case in which snubbing might be -required. There seemed to be something in the air that afternoon which -made men behave in a most unusual manner. -</p> - -<p> -“I want to see some lady’s hose!” -</p> - -<p> -“For yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -There was something in the way he put the question for which I really -could have hit him. What did it matter to him who they were for? He -led me to a counter behind which there was the usual girl, and on -which there was a box full of silk things—such colours! He began to -spread them out in front of me, with a smile for which I would have -liked to stick a pin into him. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, here is something particularly smart. I am sure it would suit -you—pure silk; guaranteed—were fifteen-and-six, are -eight-and-eleven. Amazing value. But you shall have them for—” he -hesitated—“for one-and-ninepence-halfpenny. Indeed, it would afford -me the greatest pleasure to give them to you.” -</p> - -<p> -When he said that, the girl behind the counter stared; and I stared, -too. Was he mad? Was he seriously proposing to present me—free, -gratis, for nothing—with his master’s silk stockings? The man must -have been drinking. I froze him. -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you. The articles are not required by myself. And, if you don’t -mind, I would rather that this young lady served me.” I turned to the -young lady in question, who was wearing a peculiar look. “I want a -pair of brown silk stockings, that shade”; and I handed her Lilian’s -matching. -</p> - -<p> -While the girl was endeavouring to find what I wanted, that -shop-walker continued to pester me. And not only so, but the -shop-walker from the opposite counter came and joined his attentions -to the other’s, pressing on me the most ridiculous things. When I -severely snubbed them both, they began to smile at one another. We -were the centre of observation, alike to customers and assistants. -</p> - -<p> -I was delighted to get out of the shop with Lilian’s stockings at -last. I made no attempt to get Audrey’s ribbon. And I would have gone -straight off home without Doris’s fringe-nets, had I dared; but I did -not dare. Morrel’s was close at hand; practically on the way, and if I -had returned without them, there would not only have been a tremendous -disturbance, but they would probably have sent me back again. -</p> - -<p> -The worst of it was that I disliked Morrel’s. I loathe hairdressers. -They always seem to regard women as so many dummies, or, at least, -lay-figures, of whom they can make anything they please. I am -convinced that they despise us. What else can you expect? Thousands -and thousands of us owe all our charms to them. They give countless -women their complexions, their eyebrows—indeed, to all intents and -purposes, their entire faces. Hundreds of thousands owe all their hair -to them. Their little flirty curls, on pins, for all sorts of -occasions—Lilian has rows of them, stuck on sheets of cork, like -butterflies—their fringes, coils, switches, transformations, their -entire wigs, not to speak of the foundations on which they build. Then -think of the dyes, restorers, so-called washes, curling fluids, and -all that kind of thing. Oh, dear! The girls spend heaps of money at -Morrel’s. I believe that mamma would just as soon die as do without -such places. -</p> - -<p> -Why I particularly objected to Morrel’s was because there they were -always at me to do as the others did; and I know that, in their -politely insolent way, they jeered at me because I refused. Mr Morrel -himself was a horror—a little, stoutish man, with his scanty, -light-brown hair curled in rows. He reeked of perfume. I would far -sooner have sat in a third-class smoking-carriage, full of -horny-handed sons of toil, all “blowing” shag—I believe that that’s -the proper word—than have occupied a chair next to him. And he, in -his heart, I knew, despised me; first, for belonging to such a -barber’s block family, and then for refusing to allow him to practise -any of his arts to supply the charms which I was quite aware that I so -plentifully lacked. -</p> - -<p> -When I entered the shop, I found that he was alone in it. I was -disgusted. He stood simpering behind his glass cases, twiddling a -frightfully blonde curl, to which he was giving some finishing touches -on its pin. As a rule, there was a young woman in the shop—with such -a head of hair. It was never done twice in the same style; daily -visits in search of packets of hairpins would have been as good as a -course of hairdressing lessons—not to speak of his wife, who always -seemed somewhere about. His special business was to look after the -hairdressing rooms. -</p> - -<p> -As he saw it was I, I believe he was going to ring for his assistant. -It was beneath his dignity to personally attend on me. But, as he -continued to look at me, on a sudden, he changed his mind. I was -persuaded that, as it were, a wave of emotion crept over him; all at -once he altered so completely. His simper assumed the dimensions of a -beam. Putting his fingers to his oily hair, he regarded me in a manner -which, whatever he might think to the contrary, far from became him. -</p> - -<p> -“And what may I do for you, Miss O’Brady?” -</p> - -<p> -“I want half-a-dozen fringe-nets for my sister Doris. She says that -you know the shade.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what do you want for yourself, Miss Norah?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing, thank you. Will you please give them me as quickly as you -can. I’m in a hurry.” -</p> - -<p> -He put his head on one side like an owl. It was idiotic. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, Miss Norah, I am afraid that you despise my art. You are yourself -so beautiful that you do not stand in need of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you aware what you are saying? Kindly give me those fringe-nets.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yet I also am an artist. As many perfect pictures are the work of my -fingers as you will find upon the walls of an Academy.” -</p> - -<p> -“I never said they weren’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Miss Norah, you have towards me an air of aloofness. Yet I am -more essential to a woman than her milliner—than her costumier. What -is the most perfect toilette with an indifferent coiffure. Even beauty -cannot safely scorn me. If you will do me the inestimable honour of -entrusting your lovely head to me for a few brief minutes I do not -think you will regret it when you perceive the result. It is true that -nature has given you hair which is perfect in texture, exquisite in -colour——” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Morrel, do you know what you are saying?” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma had told me over and over again that Morrel had assured her that -nothing could be done with my hair if I refused to have it -“tinted”—which I always had refused, and always should refuse to -permit. He had as good as hinted that, from his point of view, its -colour was an atrocity, an outrage! Now he had the assurance to tell -me, to my face, that he thought it exquisite. And he was not to be put -down either. -</p> - -<p> -“I, of all men in England, should know what I am saying on a subject -on which I, among all my compeers, am best qualified to speak. As an -artist there is no one living who is worthy to hold a comb with me. It -were false modesty to pretend the contrary. As a lad I was a lightning -shaver; I could remove a stubborn beard with an ease which was a -rapture to its wearer. I was scarcely out of my apprenticeship when, -on two occasions, I won first prizes in the National Competition in -Artistic Hairdressing. I should have undoubtedly won a third, if for -originality alone—the originality of my ideas has always been -admitted—had not a cabal—all leaders of art become, sooner or later, -the victims of a cabal—had not a cabal, I say, actuated by motives on -which I will not enlarge, bestowed my prize upon a mere pretender. The -desert they could not alienate. It was notorious.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is very interesting, Mr Morrel; but would you mind giving me my -sister’s fringe-nets?” -</p> - -<p> -“One moment, Miss Norah, if you please. You continue to regard me with -a scorn which blights. An artist’s is a sensitive soul. I implore you -not to flash the arrows of your disdain in the tender target of my -heart!” -</p> - -<p> -“I shall tell mamma, Mr Morrel, if you talk to me like that. Will you -give me my sister’s fringe-nets?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will; certainly I will. After all, I am a man of business. Let me -not forget it, even at such a moment as this. But, at the same time, -let me prove to you that I am not only commercial. Let me entreat your -personal acceptance of some trifle in evidence. For instance, this -handglass, in its way a gem. Held at the proper angle it will give you -a view of your back hair, the clarity of which will surprise you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Mr Morrel; but I don’t want a handglass.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then this manicure set, mounted in gold. Its constant use might -embellish even your hands—if it be possible to paint the lily.” -</p> - -<p> -It made me so cross to hear him, when, all the while, he probably knew -that it is only with anguish that I can cram my hands into -six-and-threequarters. -</p> - -<p> -“I want nothing except my sister’s fringe-nets. Will you, or will you -not, give them to me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your coldness scorches me, if I may use a seeming paradox. In the -most literal sense I will give them to you. Permit me to present you -with six fringe-nets, for the use of Miss Doris O’Brady.” -</p> - -<p> -“My sister tells me that you charge her a shilling each for them. Here -is half-a-sovereign. Please give me the change.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will not give you the change, nor will I take your half-sovereign. -Do you wish to grind me beneath your heel—to insult me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Insult you!” -</p> - -<p> -“The fringe-nets are a present to you for your sister, since you will -accept nothing for yourself—unless, at the eleventh hour, you will -permit me to add the manicure set and the handglass.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think, Mr Morrel, that you must be suffering from something this -afternoon. Do you suppose, for one single instant, that either my -sister or I wishes you to give us our fringe-nets? I insist upon -paying for them.” -</p> - -<p> -“You cannot. It is impossible. I decline to allow you to pay for -them.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that you decline to allow?” -</p> - -<p> -Mrs Morrel’s appearance in the shop I hailed with a sensation of real -relief. -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Morrel, I want six fringe-nets, and, for some reason or other, Mr -Morrel won’t let me pay for one. They’re six shillings, and I want him -to take for them out of this half-sovereign, and he won’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Give me the half-sovereign. I’ll soon make that right.” -</p> - -<p> -Her husband interposed, or tried to: -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, I must ask you not to intrude between this young lady and -myself.” -</p> - -<p> -She cut him relentlessly short. -</p> - -<p> -“Here is your change, Miss O’Brady; and here are the fringe-nets.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you. Good-afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -He tried again. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, I am master in my own shop, and you must permit me to -state——” -</p> - -<p> -I did not wait to hear what it was that he wished to state. I had -heard more than enough of his statements already. Insincere, -smooth-tongued, artificial creature! I had had no idea that he was so -horrid, though I had known that he was horrid enough. I left the shop -with the fringe-nets in one hand and the change in the other; and I -make no doubt that directly my back was turned an animated discussion -commenced as to who was and who was not master there, and how far that -mastery went. Had I been Mrs Morrel I would have made it clear to her -objectionable husband, when it came to presenting the stock to casual -female customers, that his mastery ceased before it reached that -point. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch06"> -CHAPTER VI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MISS NORAH FEELS ODD</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was more than humiliating to be the cause of dissension between a -hairdresser and his wife, not to speak of that shop-walker’s eccentric -behaviour. And I did feel so strange, so topsy-turveyish. As if -something had got into my veins and set them all of a glow. Ordinarily -I am convinced that I should have slaughtered Mr Morrel, and the -shop-walker, and the baker’s boy. But, somehow, that afternoon, -although I knew that I ought to be shocked, and amazed, and furious, I -could not be either of the three to anything like the extent which I -was well aware I ought to have been. For some extraordinary reason I -seemed almost to feel that it was quite natural that male creatures in -their position of life should behave to me in what, to say the least, -was a peculiar way. It was a dreadful thought, but I appeared to be -possessed by a sort of consciousness that every man I met was drawn -towards me by a sort of magnetic influence which both he and I well -knew was irresistible. It was an extremely novel sensation, and not a -very agreeable one either. -</p> - -<p> -When I reached home I saw mamma watching for me through the -drawing-room window. It was she who opened the door. -</p> - -<p> -“So you have returned at last. And this time I hope you have brought -everything!” -</p> - -<p> -“Except Audrey’s ribbon. She will have to manage with what she has.” -</p> - -<p> -“And why have you not brought that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I did not propose to be insulted any further.” -</p> - -<p> -“Insulted! Norah! What do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s of no consequence. Audrey will be able to manage very well -without it. I know her. She has probably dozens of yards of ribbon -already of just the kind she wants; only she thinks it’s too much -trouble to look for it.” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma eyed me doubtfully, as if she could not make me out. I should -have been surprised if she could. I was not only beyond her -comprehension, I was beyond my own. After a momentary pause she went -on: -</p> - -<p> -“Lilian has received a telegram from Mr Rumford, to say that he is -calling this afternoon to ask her to come out with him this evening. -Possibly he intends to say something decisive. Jane has returned, but -Lilian is preparing, and you know that she doesn’t like to be hurried, -and I have to change my dress, and as he may come at any moment if we -are not ready you will have to receive him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mamma! Why can’t one of the others do that? You know I’m not very -fond of Mr Rumford, and I’m sure he doesn’t like me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t talk nonsense! It’s not a question of like or dislike, you will -do as I wish, he doesn’t come to see you. Audrey and Doris rather -expect that Mr Carter and Mr Purchase may drop in to tea, so they are -changing. Eveleen has a slight headache, and is lying down; she thinks -it possible that sometime during the afternoon Mr Hammond may call, -and she wants to be well enough to receive him. So until some of us -are ready you will have to act as hostess.” -</p> - -<p> -“In this attire?” -</p> - -<p> -“You will have no time to change; somebody may come at any second; and -I tell you again that they’re not coming to see you. You know very -well that no one ever looks at you, whatever you have on. But run -upstairs and get your hat off, and some of that unbecoming colour off -your face, and do try to look decent.” -</p> - -<p> -I obeyed her. -</p> - -<p> -As I went upstairs I was conscious of some most singular sensations, -nearly approaching to forebodings. It was absurd, yet at the bottom of -my heart I suspected that if they only could have guessed, none of -them would have asked me to receive those men. If disaster followed, -their feelings would be beyond description, while the fault would -certainly not be mine. -</p> - -<p> -I was just entering my room when mamma called out to me. -</p> - -<p> -“By the way, Norah, if Major Tibbet should come before I am ready keep -him as much amused as possible. You know how impatient he is, and how -easily bored; but I won’t be an instant longer than I can help.” -</p> - -<p> -So Major Tibbet was coming also! There was evidently going to be a -crowd of them as usual; though, as mamma had been careful to observe, -none of them ever came to see me. But, on this occasion, it was -remotely possible that a change might come o’er the spirit of the -scene. Something within me seemed to hint at it. -</p> - -<p> -As for Major Paul Tibbet, he was one of my pet abominations. An -unsoldierly old man, painted, padded, and wigged. I should think that -when he had got all off that he had put on there was nothing left of -him but a mere husk. And so conceited! He talked of nothing else but -women, and his conquests of them. It was nauseous. What mamma could -see in him was beyond my comprehension. Yet it had dawned on me more -and more, and the others had dropped hints, that if he asked her she -might become Mrs Tibbet, and present us with a new papa. What a -prospect! That made-up relic, whom I could have picked up and swung -over my head with one hand, my papa! I remembered my father as a tall, -handsome man, brave to the point of recklessness, who had broken his -neck while hunting. That anyone could dream of substituting that -effigy for him! I gathered that he had a deal of money. I fear that -mamma is not so indifferent to that consideration as she might be. -</p> - -<p> -Once inside my room I gave way to a most odd mixture of despondency -and exultation. What had happened to me? What did this odd something -inside me which seemed as if it would like to start me dancing, mean? -Where did it come from? How? And why? What was the explanation of the -singular behaviour of those men; of all those men? I could have cried, -if I had not felt so disposed to laugh. It was most confusing. -</p> - -<p> -On the dressing-table was the scrap of paper on which those mysterious -words had been so mysteriously written. I had left it there when I -went out. Could they have had anything to do with the eccentricities -of those ridiculous men? My common-sense—I have common-sense, and -plenty of it; it is my strongest point—told me that the mere notion -was nonsense. In some way or other I had been the victim of my own -imagination, though until then I was not aware that I had any to be -the victim of. I am not an imaginative being. I declare I am not. -Quite the other way. Still it stood to reason that I could not have -seen those words coming on the paper in the way I had supposed. They -must have been there before. And I had been a silly. I caught up the -half-sheet, meaning to tear it into pieces for having made me make -such a goose of myself. -</p> - -<p> -But I could not. Something seemed to take me by the wrists and prevent -me. I let the paper drop from between my fingers in a flutter of -amazement. I looked at the glass in front of me. Could this be myself -that I was looking at? Then I certainly was not so ill-looking as I -had supposed. I might be big, but I was striking. My cheeks were aglow -with health. My lips parted in a radiant smile, for which I could have -kissed myself. The whitest of white teeth shone through them. My eyes -laughed back at me in a fashion which set all my pulses beating. -Ill-looking, with eyes like those? What rubbish people would talk! -They were alive with all sorts of things, two of the daintiest, most -mischievous, frankest, tenderest, dancing lures which were ever set in -a woman’s head. Why, the freckles on my nose positively set them off. -</p> - -<p> -Really, as I observed the reflection in that mirror I was not at all -surprised at the conduct of those men. There was some excuse for them, -after all. No woman might see it, but I was sure that other men would -quickly. One woman is slow to see what it is in another woman which -attracts a man. But I knew then. No man, and no boy either who was -even in the neighbourhood of manhood, could meet those eyes -without—well, without feeling some sort of a sensation. I was -perfectly sure that he could not. -</p> - -<p> -I put my hands up to my face, and laughed!—and actually blushed! It -was so very odd. And so amusing! I felt—it is difficult to describe -exactly—but I was twittering from head to foot, as with a -consciousness of suddenly acquired powers which made me—I do not know -precisely what word to use, but I will write it irresponsible. I was -more than half-ashamed. I doubted if it was a proper feeling for a -girl to have. At twenty-three one ought to be discreet. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly the door opened and Doris put her head in. She was in her -petticoat, and her hair all down. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah! Whatever are you figuring about before the glass for like -that? Mr Purchase and Mr Carter are coming down the street; go to the -drawing-room at once. Audrey and I will race down as fast as ever we -can, but you must go this moment.” -</p> - -<p> -She just said that, and was off again. It was as well she was, the -idea of her catching me like that made me go a peony-red all over. I -am not in the habit of “figuring about” before a looking-glass, and -nobody can say I am. -</p> - -<p> -So Mr Purchase and Mr Carter were coming down the street? I felt, -well, I am afraid that I felt delighted. If Doris had only known I -doubt if she would have been so anxious that I should hurry down. They -were two of the very nicest boys we know, and had behaved quite -decently even to me. They were sometimes apt to treat me in a free and -easy, brotherly sort of fashion which I rather liked. So far as I -could see there was no nonsense about them whatever. They were -inseparable chums, kind of David and Jonathan, and always hunted in -couples. -</p> - -<p> -Jack Purchase was supposed to be a barrister, but so far as I could -see the only thing he really did was to make ardent love to Doris. He -was tolerably well off, but Doris was a desperate flirt and led him a -tremendous dance. I believe that in her heart she more than liked him, -but it seemed as if she was incapable of owning as much to any man. So -many men had been over head and ears in love with her that I suppose -she had come to think that it would be undignified to admit any -feeling of the kind for one of them. Mamma was very anxious to get her -off, and would have liked nothing better than to have had Mr Purchase -as a son-in-law. But Doris did not care a snap of the fingers for what -mamma said, and her partisanship rather damaged him in her eyes, if -anything. She was a contrary little wretch. -</p> - -<p> -Basil Carter was nothing at all, except a young gentleman of means. He -was very keen to be a statesman, or a Member of Parliament, or -whatever it is. He had tried to get in twice and had failed each time, -but declared that the third time he meant to succeed. I hoped he -would; though, for my part, I cannot see why anyone should wish to be -a ridiculous M.P. I have met lots of them. They are most of them -sillies, though some of them think themselves tin gods. I don’t know -why. They only talk, and most of them cannot do that with decency. -Nearly all the few things they do do they do all wrong, and had much -better have left undone. -</p> - -<p> -He has a most lovely yacht. He once took us all a cruise in it. I -enjoyed it immensely, but the others did not. I do not understand how -it is that some people are ill at sea; it seems so unnatural. Mamma -always takes a private cabin, and is down in it before the boat -starts, even when she is only crossing to Calais. -</p> - -<p> -He is passionately in love with Audrey. I know it as a fact, because -once he as good as told me so. But Audrey is a most difficult girl. -She is imaginative if you like. I believe that she spends her time -imagining herself the wife of a clever man, though what is her idea of -cleverness is more than I can say. Several men, who are allowed to be -not only clever in their own estimation, have asked her to marry, but -she has invariably said no. Physically, she is disgracefully lazy, and -loves to languish, but, mentally, she is sharp as a razor. No matter -how clever the man may be who gets her, he will find that she is, at -least, his match, and that he could not have had anyone more certain -to help him in making his mark in the world. And she is so lovely, and -in the very depths of her, deliciously sweet. -</p> - -<p> -All the same, although they knew quite well what those two boys felt -for them, and their own charms had been proved to be nearly -irresistible over and over again, if they could only have guessed what -had happened to me, neither Audrey nor Doris would have been quite -easy in their minds as I descended the stairs with my most stately -air—which was not saying much, for all the while I was longing to -dance right down them—to welcome the approaching callers. -</p> - -<p> -Directly I was in the drawing-room something tickled me again, so that -I burst out laughing, and had to put up my hand to hide my blushes. -What could it be that was about to happen? And at that moment there -came a rat-tat-tat at the hall-door, and, presently, Jane was ushering -in the visitors. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch07"> -CHAPTER VII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MISS NORAH RECEIVES TWO GENTLEMEN</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Mr Purchase</span> came first, with Mr Carter close on his heels. I stood -about the centre of the room, as prim as you please, just wondering. -Each of them had some flowers in his hand, Mr Purchase red roses, and -Mr Carter pink. Somehow those young men scarcely ever came to the -house without bringing roses. No matter what the season, you might be -almost positive that they would have, at any rate, half-a-dozen -rosebuds. In their time Doris and Audrey must have had enough flowers -to make a good-sized haystack. No one ever brings me any. -</p> - -<p> -They came into the room with a sort of look of expectation on their -faces. When they perceived me they gave a look round, and when they -saw I was alone their expression changed entirely. It was comical. A -friendly, free and easy smile took its place. -</p> - -<p> -“Hullo, Norah!” exclaimed Mr Purchase. “Nobody here?” -</p> - -<p> -It was not a very civil way of greeting one; but I knew that it was -not intended to bear quite the construction which might be put on it. -Both boys had a way of addressing me as Norah, especially when I was -alone with them, though they always dignify the others with the prefix -“Miss.” I observed that most men, when they condescended to notice me -at all, were more than a trifle unceremonious in their fashion of -speech. Often I did not altogether like it. It was not pleasant to -hear a man speak to your sister as if she were a duchess, and then to -you as if you were a mixture of a cousin and a housemaid. But somehow -from these two I did not mind it so much as from others. It was, -perhaps, because they always meant to be friendly, and were never -actually rude. -</p> - -<p> -However, I suppose that just then I was feeling a little superior, so -I put my nose up in the air, and was nasty. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sorry that there is no one here—at least, no one of the -slightest consequence.” -</p> - -<p> -I fancy that both my words and my manner took them both aback. I -believe that Mr Purchase nearly started. -</p> - -<p> -“I say, it isn’t fair to trip up a chap like that. I’m sure——” -</p> - -<p> -Of what he was sure I shall probably never know, because when he had -got as far as that, for the first time he really looked at me. When he -did he did not exactly start. But his expression changed quite as -suddenly as it had done before, and in a more surprising manner. I -never saw such a look upon a person’s face. And not the least curious -part of it was that I was conscious that a precisely similar change -had taken place in Mr Carter’s countenance. -</p> - -<p> -They are neither of them bad-looking, only Mr Carter is brown, and Mr -Purchase black; and I am inclined to think that a dark, intellectual -face mirrors its owner’s emotions in an almost uncanny degree, -although, when I began to grasp the details of Mr Carter’s -physiognomy, I was not sure that your brown-haired people are very far -behind. The amazement and delight which had all at once come into Mr -Carter’s blue eyes was positively bewildering. He was a little behind -his friend, and I suspect him of having had no desire to come to the -front while I was the only person there, yet, all in an instant he had -passed him, and planted himself in front of me. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, here are some flowers.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out the pink roses with an air which set me all of a flutter. -</p> - -<p> -“I see there are. You always bring such pretty roses. Audrey is very -lucky.” -</p> - -<p> -“They are for you.” -</p> - -<p> -“For me?” -</p> - -<p> -Before he could answer, Mr Purchase was at his side, with his flowers -extended. -</p> - -<p> -“May I hope, Miss Norah, that you will do me the honour to accept -mine. They are not so pretty, perhaps, as others, and are far from -being worthy your acceptance, yet I hope that, of your kindness, you -will not refuse.” -</p> - -<p> -I had never had such a speech addressed to me in all my life by -anyone; and now that it should come from Jack Purchase, of all people -in the world. Small wonder that for the moment the only thing I was -fit for was to gasp. I looked from one to the other like a sort of -gaping idiot, and I certainly had abundant excuse for looking nothing -better. There, within six inches of me on one side was Basil Carter, -holding out the pink roses which, I was convinced, he had brought for -Audrey; and within five-and-a-half inches of me on the other side was -Mr Purchase, protruding, in a most suggestive style, the red roses I -was perfectly sure he had brought for Doris. -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t fair of you to laugh at me,” I managed to get out at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Laugh!” cried Mr Carter, with an air of the most innocent surprise. -“How laugh? I hope you do not think that I am laughing at you? I -should not dare.” -</p> - -<p> -Should not dare! That was awfully good, considering how he had laughed -at me times without number, as he knew as well as I did. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what you call it then, pretending to offer me those -flowers.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pretending! Miss Norah, I beg you will not call it pretence, when it -is my earnest hope that you will receive them from my hands.” -</p> - -<p> -“You know perfectly well that you brought them for Audrey.” -</p> - -<p> -Before he could speak Mr Purchase spoke for him. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Basil, Miss Norah is quite correct; you yourself confided to -me that they were designed for Miss Audrey. If, however, Miss Norah, -you will deign to accept these red roses they will have reached their -proper destination.” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t fair of you, Mr Purchase; as if I didn’t know that they were -meant for Doris.” -</p> - -<p> -This time it was Mr Carter who interposed. -</p> - -<p> -“That certainly is the case, my dear Jack. You are yourself aware that -at your request I this morning ordered some red roses for Miss Doris -O’Brady, and that these are they.” -</p> - -<p> -“A man is at liberty to change his mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Under certain circumstances.” -</p> - -<p> -“A fact of which I avail myself to beg your acceptance of these roses, -Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would entreat Miss Norah to extend her condescension to these poor -buds of mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Basil, you are merely imitative.” -</p> - -<p> -“The imitation comes from you. It was I who first besought Miss Norah -to take pity on my poor roses.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Basil, you must excuse me, but you force me to point out once -more—as Miss Norah has done already—that you brought those flowers -for Miss Audrey. It’s no use pretending that you didn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“I pretend nothing; let me advise you also to avoid pretence. Is there -any valid reason why we should not join in requesting Miss Norah’s -acceptance of both our little nosegays?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bad idea, if Miss Norah will only so far honour us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not if I know it; I haven’t quite lost my senses, even if you have.” -</p> - -<p> -They seemed startled, even hurt. Mr Purchase, in particular, shivered -almost as if I had struck him. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think that I wish to get into trouble by accepting other -people’s property?” -</p> - -<p> -“You scarcely state the case correctly, Miss Norah, if you will -forgive my saying so. Up to the present moment the nosegays are our -property—ours.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, so far as I am concerned, they will continue to remain your -property—and, in any case, I should decline to accept what was -originally intended for another.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then all that remains for me is to throw my poor flowers out of the -window.” -</p> - -<p> -“The fireplace is good enough for mine.” -</p> - -<p> -Off strode Mr Purchase towards the window and Mr Carter towards the -fireplace. I stopped them. -</p> - -<p> -“How can you be so ridiculous?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is to avoid being made ridiculous that I propose to deposit them -in the gutter. If you will not deign to overlook their too obvious -unworthiness, then let them suffer the extremity of shame, and be the -sharers of my humiliation.” -</p> - -<p> -“I want nothing which you despise, so here go my rosebuds into the -grate.” -</p> - -<p> -Off they strode again; again I stopped them. -</p> - -<p> -“Rather than that you should behave in that foolish and wicked -way—treating those lovely flowers so cruelly—I will take both your -nosegays. Though, mind you, if you don’t understand, I do—my doing so -is the height of absurdity.” -</p> - -<p> -Before I had finished speaking both of them came rushing at me, and -there was I standing with Doris’ red roses in my right hand and -Audrey’s pink in my left. I scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry, the -situation was so surprising. What those two girls would say when they -appeared upon the scene—as I momentarily expected that they would -do—I did not even dare to think. And those two boys allowed me no -chance to collect my thoughts, and try to see my way out of the muddle -into which they were getting me. They kept on chattering, one against -the other, and making the muddle worse with every word they uttered. -</p> - -<p> -Mr Purchase began, speaking with an absurdly cock-a-doodle air, as if -I had done him the greatest possible favour by consenting to hold -Doris’ flowers for a moment or so, for that was really as far as I -intended my acquiescence to go. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Miss Norah, that you have made me supremely happy by accepting -my now rich roses——” -</p> - -<p> -“And mine,” interposed Mr Carter. -</p> - -<p> -“And yours—really, we are not likely to forget it, my dear Basil. -Would you allow me to speak a few words without interruption? I should -thank you so much if you would. This morning, Miss Norah, I took a box -for this evening’s performance at the Gaiety Theatre——” -</p> - -<p> -Again there came an interruption from Mr Carter. -</p> - -<p> -“When you say that you took a box I presume you mean that you went -through the mechanical operation of having it booked in your name. I -paid for half of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Basil, once more you are interrupting me. You appear to be -incapable of allowing me to conclude a sentence. If you only would, -you would find that I should explain everything to your most perfect -satisfaction. Miss Norah, as Basil puts it, we took a box, and I shall -be only too delighted if you will share my half of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hope, Miss Norah, that you will share mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Basil, you are really trying. I invite Miss Norah, and before she has -an opportunity of saying Yes or No, you cap my invitation with one of -your own.” -</p> - -<p> -“I presume, my dear fellow, that I am at liberty to invite whom I -please. It was only owing to the accident of your having the glibbest -tongue that my invitation did not come first.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Basil, you are behaving like a schoolboy. I tell you what we’ll -do—I’ll purchase your share of the box.” -</p> - -<p> -“I decline to sell.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I will get another for myself—I imagine that another is to be -had—and that I trust, Miss Norah, you will do me the honour of -sharing with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hope, Miss Norah, that you will not be so cruel. I beg that you -will honour mine.” -</p> - -<p> -They were beginning to look at each other in a way which made me -almost apprehensive. The trouble was, that I rather wanted to go to -the Gaiety. I hardly ever get a chance of going to a theatre; the -others are always going. A piece was there just then to which all the -world was crowding, and, for once in a way, I was more than willing to -go with the crowd. That made the invitation rather tempting. But, -under the circumstances, I was hardly goose enough to own it. Instead -I endeavoured to induce them to conduct themselves like reasonable -beings, which, until then, I had always supposed they were. -</p> - -<p> -“Why are you two behaving this afternoon in such an excessively -ridiculous manner? First you ask me to make two shares of myself in -one box, and then to divide myself between two boxes. I don’t quite -see how you can reasonably expect me to do either. I am not a -divisible quantity.” -</p> - -<p> -They both began at me again. -</p> - -<p> -“You entirely misunderstand me, Miss Norah. So far from wishing you to -divide yourself, I am piteously anxious that you should only honour my -box.” -</p> - -<p> -“Since Jack talks of taking another box, so far from dividing -yourself—which the powers forbid!—all you have to do is to share -with me the whole of mine.” -</p> - -<p> -I held up the two nosegays—to calm them, if I could. -</p> - -<p> -“One moment—if you’ll be so very kind. I should like you two to offer -some at least plausible explanation of the extraordinary fashion in -which you are treating me this afternoon. And, in the first place, I -would call your attention to two or three simple questions. Have you -ever hinted at giving me even the shadow of a shade of a flower? You -know very well that no such idea has ever entered your heads. Why, -then, do you all at once insist on thrusting on me the roses which you -brought for Audrey and Doris, for whom you have been in the habit of -bringing bushels of flowers? Have either of you ever even dimly -suggested taking me to a theatre? You are aware that no such notion -has ever entered your wildest dreams. Why, then, are you almost -quarrelling in your apparent endeavours to compel me to occupy a box -which you know as well as I do was intended for my two sisters? I -happen to be cognisant of the fact that you as good as promised to -take them to the Gaiety, and I have little doubt that you have caused -them to anticipate the fulfilment of your promise this very evening. -Can you for one moment suppose that I shall consent to take the places -which they are expecting to fill? I should be sorry to be forced to -think that you are not the sort of persons I had taken you to be. I -have not a lofty opinion of the generality of men, for reasons; but I -had believed you to be a little above the average.” -</p> - -<p> -Instead of showing the least sign of being ashamed of themselves, they -commenced to accuse each other in the most brazen manner. Mr Carter -commenced. -</p> - -<p> -“What you say, Miss Norah, is correct—as it always is. You know, -Jack, that only this morning you told me that you were going to ask -Miss Doris to share your half of the box; it was for that especial -purpose you took it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you not give me an assurance that you proposed to ask Miss Audrey -to go with you?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Jack, you informed me as far back as yesterday that you had -as good as invited Miss Doris to accompany you, and that she had -practically consented.” -</p> - -<p> -“My memory is not at fault, my good fellow. I perfectly well remember -that three days ago you remarked to me that you had mentioned the -Gaiety Theatre to Miss Audrey; that she had expressed a wish to go -there, and that, to all intents and purposes, you had undertaken to -take her. After that you will yourself admit that, in common decency, -there is nothing more to be said.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Jack, I don’t want to chop phrases with you. You know I hate -that kind of thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not more than I do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, if that’s the case, I’ll make a proposition, the perfect -fairness of which must commend it to you. Let me have five minutes’ -private and uninterrupted conversation with Miss Norah—I am -convinced, Miss Norah, that in less time than that I shall succeed in -making clear to you a good deal that at present seems dark!—and after -that you can have ten minutes’ talk all to yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“I accept your proposition—with one proviso; that you let me have the -first five minutes; then, afterwards, you can have twenty.” -</p> - -<p> -“What kind of a way to treat a friend do you call this, Jack? You -persist in taking the words out of my mouth, and adopting them as your -own.” -</p> - -<p> -“Basil, I must beg of you that you will not talk nonsense.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense! Really, Jack, that’s good, as coming from you! I talk -nonsense! I don’t wish to enter into argument—least of all with you; -but this is too much.” -</p> - -<p> -“Listen to me!” -</p> - -<p> -Considering that Mr Carter’s face was so very close to Mr Purchase’s, -and that he was not speaking in the gentlest tone of voice, one could -hardly see how he could help but listen. Their demeanour was marked by -so much—I will call it, eagerness—that I was seriously beginning to -inquire of myself if the temperature of the room was not getting a -trifle warm. What was the exciting cause I was at a loss to determine; -yet it did seem incredible that such lifelong friends should wrangle -about nothing. If the cause of the heat was me—which seemed more -incredible still—I could only declare that I was conscious of no sane -reason why it should be. -</p> - -<p> -I was almost on the point of inquiring if either of them suffered from -intermittent attacks of softening of the brain, when the door opened, -and in came Audrey and Doris. I sincerely hoped that they had been -long enough in dressing. They might find that they had been just a -trifle too long. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch08"> -CHAPTER VIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MEN ARE DECEIVERS EVER</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I could</span> not but feel how nice they looked. Not for the first time, -by any means, it was a comfort to think that they were my sisters. It -is all very well to inveigh against the tremendous time a woman takes -in dressing—and I am quite willing to admit that, over and over -again, the girls have as nearly as possible driven me mad!—but if she -wants to look her best, she has to. It is just those little delicate -touches which require care and thought, and cannot be hurried over, -which complete the picture. After one is completely dressed, one can -often advantageously spend another quarter-of-an-hour or twenty -minutes in artistic tittivation; and sometimes the result is worth it. -</p> - -<p> -When I began to take in the details of Audrey and Doris, I realised -that it had been worth it in their case. They were just exquisite; a -delight to the eye, a refreshment to the senses; perfect pictures, of -a kind I never could be. I was laughingly conscious of the absurdity -of my posing as a rival to them. My impulse was to hurry to them, -presenting the two nosegays, explaining that I had been merely acting -as custodian until they came. I fully expected that there would be an -instant end to those two men’s preposterous behaviour, so far as I was -concerned, taking it for granted that they would promptly rush back to -their allegiance, leaving me with the recollection of the lop-sided -joke we three had had together. -</p> - -<p> -However, to my amazement, and almost to my horror, nothing of the kind -took place. Instead, Mr Purchase and Mr Carter continued their -nonsensical, half-quarrelsome argument, totally ignoring Audrey and -Doris, who remained a few paces inside the door, a growing suggestion -of astonishment upon their faces. Presently Audrey spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“I hope that we have not kept you waiting. How are you, Mr Carter?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter turned, nodded, and addressed her from where he stood. Cold -shivers went up and down my back. He had never treated me quite so -free-and-easily as that. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, thank you, Miss Audrey. I’m going strong, thank you. I hope you -are, too.” -</p> - -<p> -Without another word, he resumed his squabble with his friend. -</p> - -<p> -The two girls looked at each other. Then Doris spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“Good afternoon, Mr Purchase. I hope that you have been pleasantly -engaged, and have not missed me.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Purchase’s answer must have been distinctly unexpected. He just -nodded, as Basil Carter had done, and observed, in the most offhanded -manner: -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all, Miss Doris—not in the very least. We couldn’t have been -better employed, thank you very much.” -</p> - -<p> -He returned to Mr Carter, placing the forefinger of his right hand on -the palm of his left. -</p> - -<p> -“The point is this, I have now ceded to you my share of the box, -leaving you perfect freedom to carry out your original plan, as of -course you will do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing of the kind. That’s not the point, here is the point in a -nutshell.” -</p> - -<p> -At it they went, in the old delightful way. The two girls had seated -themselves on a settee which was between the windows. They looked -sweet, but a remark which Doris made to me suggested that that was not -exactly how they were feeling. -</p> - -<p> -“What are you doing with those flowers, Norah? You look silly with a -bunch in each hand. Somehow flowers and you never do go well together, -they look incongruous.” -</p> - -<p> -The assault was so gratuitous that it ruffled my plumes. I was just on -the point of handing them the flowers, with a word of explanation to -smooth things out; because those two boys had been abominably rude, -and they were not accustomed to rudeness from men. All experiences of -that kind had come my way. The fact of the sensation being an entirely -novel one scarcely made it more agreeable, especially since they had -every reason to suppose that the pair were head over ears in love with -them. My inclination was towards sympathy—true sisterly -sympathy—because I had been treated badly myself, and I knew what it -felt like. But when Doris spoke to me like that, sympathetic feelings -retreated into the background. I sank down on the ottoman; put first -one nosegay to my nose, and then the other; and smiled a little. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Carter and Mr Purchase have brought me these lovely roses. So -sweet of them, really!” -</p> - -<p> -I was conscious that the girls cast a curious, and even startled -glance in my direction. Doris’ voice was a little sharp. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean to say that those roses were given you by Mr Purchase?” -</p> - -<p> -“And Mr Carter. They would insist upon my not refusing. Wasn’t it nice -of them?” -</p> - -<p> -As I glanced towards Doris, with my very sweetest smile, she looked -what I call scratchy. Audrey addressed Basil Carter. -</p> - -<p> -“So, Mr Carter, you have been giving Norah roses?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, yes; poor ones, unworthy the recipient. Had I known the honour -which was in store for them I would have procured better.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is very kind of you. They look very like the roses you have -sometimes given me.” -</p> - -<p> -“They are the same—yes—exactly.” -</p> - -<p> -The implication his words suggested,—that while the roses were not -good enough for me they were for Audrey,—possibly escaped his -attention. I doubt if it did hers. She looked up at him with notes of -interrogation in her eyes, as if she were asking what he meant. He -added, as if by an afterthought: -</p> - -<p> -“By the way, Miss Audrey, there’s a matter on which I should like to -ask your advice. I have a box for the Gaiety to-night.” -</p> - -<p> -“You told me that you meant to get one.” -</p> - -<p> -Her words seemed to take him slightly aback. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; I have some recollection of the kind. I believe I did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you have much difficulty?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no; none to speak of.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris questioned Mr Purchase. -</p> - -<p> -“And haven’t you a share in Mr Carter’s box, or has he it all to -himself?” -</p> - -<p> -“He has it all to himself. I had half, but I have relinquished it.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris raised her eyebrows. -</p> - -<p> -“You have relinquished it?” -</p> - -<p> -“You see, he proposes to ask Miss Audrey to join him, and you.” -</p> - -<p> -“And me? Mr Carter proposes to ask me?” -</p> - -<p> -Doris’ eyebrows went a little higher. Mr Purchase hurried on, as if he -deemed hurry advisable. -</p> - -<p> -“So I hope to be able to get another box for myself, as I am extremely -anxious to ask Miss Norah to share it with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are anxious—to ask Norah to share it with you?” -</p> - -<p> -Doris’ face was a study. I could have laughed out loud, although, even -while I sat, I was shivering in my shoes. His audacity was beyond -anything—at least I thought so, until Mr Carter tried his hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, Miss Audrey, but that is not a correct statement of the -case. It is you, Miss Doris, that Jack proposes to ask, in the hope, -Miss Audrey, that you will join them. I, on the other hand, have -already asked Miss Norah to favour my box with the honour of her -presence.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Purchase burst out almost before Mr Carter had finished. -</p> - -<p> -“Basil, how can you say such things? Really, you are beyond anything. -You are perfectly well aware that the original invitation to Miss -Norah came from me. Now, is that not the fact? Yes or no? Answer me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be silly, Jack; I invited Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“After I had done so.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pooh! a question of a moment’s superior glibness.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey stood up. -</p> - -<p> -“Is this a little comedy which has been arranged between you two.” -</p> - -<p> -“That, Miss Audrey, is precisely the question I have put to Jack. I -certainly have had no hand in it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it seems to me you have. You will excuse my putting it to you -bluntly, Mr Carter; but did I not understand you to say that if you -succeeded in getting a box for the Gaiety you would offer me a seat in -it?” -</p> - -<p> -Basil Carter seeming momentarily tongue-tied, his friend answered for -him. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course he did, Miss Audrey; he told me so himself. He was full of -his anticipations of enjoyment in your society.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris put her question to Mr Purchase. -</p> - -<p> -“And were you not good enough to hint at my finding room in it with -you? I rather fancied that you made some proposition of the kind, or, -was it only fancy?” -</p> - -<p> -It was Mr Carter’s turn to reply. -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all! not in the least! I assure you, Miss Doris, that there is -not a grain of fancy about it. Jack informed me, with his own lips, -that he had made an arrangement of the kind with you, and expressed -his gratification at having done so; and it was with a view of -carrying out that arrangement that the box was procured. About that -there cannot be the faintest shadow of a doubt.” -</p> - -<p> -There was an instant’s pause. Neither of the men was looking exactly -comfortable. I was wondering what excuse I could find to get outside -the room, feeling incapable of marching out without one. Doris was -lying back in a corner of the settee, picking at the folds in her -dress, and smiling apparently at her own thoughts. While Audrey was -standing close to Mr Carter, regarding him with something like a look -of puzzlement in her beautiful eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Then are we to understand that the arrangement still holds good?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter shifted from one foot to the other. -</p> - -<p> -“The arrangement, Miss Audrey?” -</p> - -<p> -“As to the box. Am I to be your guest in it, as you promised?” -</p> - -<p> -There was a tone in Audrey’s voice which I had never heard in it -before—almost of appeal. I knew that she was observing his face with -growing surprise, wondering at his obvious constraint. He was -generally the readiest of men; and, with all his passionate devotion -to her, never at a loss to express, in the most graceful terms, his -eagerness to meet her smallest wishes. This blundering creature was -entirely new to her. Something very near to pity came into her face as -she continued to regard him. -</p> - -<p> -“What is the matter with you, Mr Carter? You scarcely seem to be -yourself this afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -Again a second’s pause. Then he lifted his head and looked at her. -</p> - -<p> -“I am not myself, Miss Audrey, not in the sense that you have known -me.” -</p> - -<p> -He turned and looked towards me. As he did so, he came and stood close -to where I was sitting. -</p> - -<p> -“I must beg you to allow me to withdraw from the arrangement which -existed between us, so far as it referred to me. I believe that Miss -Norah but seldom attends a theatrical performance. She has never -attended one with me. If she will grant me the felicity of -accompanying her to one to-night, she will confer on me an obligation -of which I shall ever continue conscious.” -</p> - -<p> -There was silence after that. I was tingling from head to foot. I -almost felt that I should like to box his ears. I have little doubt -that Audrey would not have been indisposed to box both his and mine. A -look which was akin to terror came into her eyes; she went white, as -if something had frightened her. Doris laughed, not nicely, or -naturally either. -</p> - -<p> -“So, Mr Purchase, since Mr Carter throws us over, and what he says is -quite correct, poor Norah seldom does attend a theatre—so few people -care to attend one with her—Audrey and I will have to depend on you; -you will have to find seats for both of us.” -</p> - -<p> -The moment she had spoken I knew that Mr Purchase was going to make -himself as objectionable as his friend had done, and I believe that -Doris half suspected it too. There is a sting in that tongue of hers -which is always ready to strike at someone the instant she even -imagines that something unpleasant is going to happen to her. He drew -himself up with that superior air which I have noticed that some men -do cultivate when they know that they are about to behave badly. -</p> - -<p> -“I trust, Miss Doris, that an erroneous interpretation will not be -placed upon my words; but you must permit me to point out that I have -already asked Miss Norah to share my box.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris looked up at him with a sweetly acid smile which I should have -thought would almost have made him tremble. No man in this world had -ever thrown her over before, of that I am convinced. In matters of -that sort, hitherto, all the bad conduct had come from her. -</p> - -<p> -“Yet it would be quite easy to place an erroneous interpretation upon -your words and your behaviour too, would it not, Mr Purchase, since -you have already offered a seat in your box to me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not in set terms, Miss Doris.” -</p> - -<p> -“No? I don’t quite know what you mean by set terms. On certain points -you appear to have ideas of your own. One is thankful to be able to -think that they are your own. Are we to take it that Norah proposes to -divide herself into halves, and to share both your boxes?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not, Miss Doris. At present Mr Purchase hasn’t even got a -box to share.” -</p> - -<p> -This, of course, was Mr Carter. -</p> - -<p> -“But I soon shall have. Miss Norah, I need hardly say, will occupy my -box only.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t talk nonsense, Jack. Before you invite a lady to share your -box, I should make sure of having a box to which to invite her. I -doubt if you’ll get one. My impression is that the house is sold right -out.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think not. I fancy that I know where to get a box if I want one -badly. Is it impossible to induce you to see what a peculiar position -you are taking up, Basil? Is it necessary to once more point out to -you that the original invitation to Miss Norah came from me, and that -in that matter you are really merely an interloper?” -</p> - -<p> -“What rubbish that is, Jack.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey interposed, deftly: -</p> - -<p> -“There does seem to be a good deal of rubbish about, doesn’t there? -Supposing we take its existence for granted. My dear Norah, you must -let me congratulate you on the flattering eagerness with which these -gentlemen desire your presence in their two boxes. It is rather an -unusual experience for you, is it not? And all the pleasanter on that -account. What pretty roses these are; they are just like some which Mr -Carter has occasionally given me.” -</p> - -<p> -Seating herself by my side Audrey took the pink roses from between my -fingers. Mr Purchase struck what I can only describe as an attitude. -</p> - -<p> -“The position which Carter has taken up justifies me in giving you my -personal assurance that those roses were intended for you, Miss -Audrey.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter gave him back as good as he sent; I do not care if that is a -vulgar way of putting it, it is a correct one. -</p> - -<p> -“And were not those red roses bought by you for Miss Doris, Purchase? -You know they were.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey went sweetly on. -</p> - -<p> -“You are lucky, Norah. You not only get our roses, but our seats in -boxes too. What a popular child you are.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris’ voice came from the couch. -</p> - -<p> -“What I want to know is—since it appears that you do not propose to -divide yourself into two equal halves—which of these extraordinary -persons do you propose to favour with your company? They themselves -don’t seem to know, perhaps you do.” -</p> - -<p> -I was red as a boiled beetroot, and smarting all over, and I expect my -answers showed it. -</p> - -<p> -“I have not said that I would favour anybody yet. I don’t want other -people’s flowers, or other people’s seats in boxes either.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, I entreat you——” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, I beseech you——” -</p> - -<p> -Just as those two men came rushing at me, and began to overwhelm me -with another flood of words, the door was opened again, and in came -Walter Hammond. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch09"> -CHAPTER IX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MORE TREACHERY</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Walter Hammond</span> is a truly remarkable person to associate with -Eveleen. She is rather short, even for a girl, while he is a perfect -lamp-post of a man—one of those long, lean persons who seem all -bones. As he fancies himself horsey, and will persist in dressing the -part, and wearing the tightest clothes, his extreme slimness is still -more conspicuous. He is one of those creatures who, when they are in a -room, seem to be all over the place at once. When he is sitting down -he never seems to know what to do with his legs, they really are -tremendously long; if he stretched them out at full length under an -ordinary dining-table, I should not be surprised if his toes peeped -out the other side; and when he stands up he is equally at a loss what -use to make of his hands and arms. He speaks in a rapid, jerky sort of -way—in fact, he is jerky altogether. When anyone addresses him, he -not only twists his body round with one jerk, and his head with -another, and puts his eyeglass in with one jerk, and out with a -second, but he jerks at his moustache, first with his right hand, and -then with his left, in a fashion which a slightly nervous person, who -is not used to him, must find not a little disconcerting. But I -believe he is harmless, though I don’t think he is as wise as he might -be. He appears to have the whole of the “Turf Guide,” or whatever you -call the thing, at his finger ends; and, if you will let him, will -talk about horses until you begin to pray for the hour when motor-cars -will have made them as extinct as the dodo. -</p> - -<p> -His manner of entering the room was, on that occasion, characteristic. -He was groping about for his eyeglass, which, as usual, eluded search -between the buttons of his waistcoat, and was carrying his hat, and -gloves, and stick, and a good-sized parcel, with an evident want of -certainty as to the hand they ought to be in, which it gave one the -fidgets to observe. -</p> - -<p> -Audrey greeted him with a degree of warmth which suggested that she -regarded his appearance as a welcome interlude. I know I did. I should -have regarded the advent of anyone or anything as a welcome interlude -just then, I believe even mad dogs; though, as I have never -encountered a mad dog, and never wish to, perhaps I had better not be -too sure. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Mr Hammond, is that you? How delightful! We want somebody to -amuse us, we are so dull. Eveleen will be charmed; she will be down in -a moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Needn’t ask how you are, Miss Audrey; you’re always fit. And Miss -Doris too; can’t make out how you manage.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“We don’t manage. We have our sufferings like other folk—sometimes -very unexpected ones they are. What have you in that great parcel? It -does seem to be in your way; won’t you leave it in the hall?” -</p> - -<p> -“Gloves! gloves! couldn’t possibly leave it in the hall. It’s a little -bet I lost to Miss Eveleen over Rocketter. The Brimstone filly was -giving him four pounds, it seemed to me that at the weights it was a -cert—dead snip. Rocketter won the Horndean Plate, the Scratchem Cup, -the Slingsbury Stakes, with the weights against him. Appeared to me -down the Lingfield straight, with such a handicap, there was only one -horse in it. I was wrong. Told Jim Smiff rode a ripping race—hung on -to Rocketter’s tail—caught him at the distance—nosed him at the -post. So Miss Eveleen wins her gloves; sure, it gives me the greatest -pleasure to pay them.” -</p> - -<p> -I am not an expert in racing slang, so, if there is anything wrong in -the way Mr Hammond’s observations are reported I am not to blame. I -only pretend to give a rudimentary impression of the general style of -his conversation. It was an extraordinary thing that when Eveleen bet -with him she nearly always won. Either he was careful to arrange it -so, or else he knew less than he supposed, and she more. Anyhow, -somehow, her horse was nearly always in front of his. A remark which -Doris made seemed to convey a hint which he might or might not have -considered flattering. -</p> - -<p> -“It must be nice to bet with you, Mr Hammond. It ensures one having a -constant gratuitous supply of little necessaries.” -</p> - -<p> -“Awfully good of you to say so, Miss Doris—really. Always delighted -to lose to a lady—especially when I’ve had a good run for my -money—yes. Tremendous rush there seems to be on the Gaiety. Had -deuce’s own business to get two stalls.” -</p> - -<p> -“For to-night?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes. Miss Eveleen said she’d like to see the show—so been worrying -round—yes—had to worry too; but I got ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Eveleen is fortunate. I also should like to see the show.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very kind of you to say so—jolly flattering to the theatre -people—they ought to go up one.” -</p> - -<p> -He had been fumbling, at intervals, for his eyeglass. Now, having -dropped his hat, stick, and gloves, and only retaining his clutch on -his parcel, he at last succeeded in jerking his glass into a -stationary position in front of his eye. He turned towards me. As he -did so he beamed all over, stood up, and advanced towards me with what -he possibly intended for a seraphic smile, but which did not strike me -in that light at all. -</p> - -<p> -“’Pon my word, Miss Norah, fancy you sitting there all the time and my -not noticing you—only fancy. How very strange! How are you? I needn’t -ask; you always are so fit; how do you manage? I never saw you looking -fitter than you are looking just now—does one’s eyesight good to look -at you. Cannot understand how I came to overlook you—so singular.” -</p> - -<p> -The idea of that man talking to me like that—after the way he had -treated me—put me all on end, as I let him see. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not at all singular. On the contrary, you have always treated -me in exactly the same manner. I have sat in the same room with you -for hours and hours, and you have paid no more attention to me than if -I was an unnecessary piece of furniture. I doubt if you have ever -spoken twenty consecutive words to me in your life.” -</p> - -<p> -The wretch was not at all abashed. That afternoon everybody seemed to -be incapable of shame—particularly those who ought to have been most -keenly alive to it. It is a disagreeable world. Talk about -brazen-faced, impudent deceitfulness! I believe that all men are -capable of anything; I am convinced they are. -</p> - -<p> -That Hammond creature went blundering on as calmly and easily as if I -had not said what ought to have made him writhe. -</p> - -<p> -“Can only assure you that if I haven’t spoken twenty consecutive words -to you, I’ll make up for it now—only like to have the chance. Feel I -could talk to you for ever—sure I could. Like gloves? Sure to. All -girls like gloves—get through lots of them. Here’s a box full; find -them rather a decent sort; hope you’ll do me the honour of wearing -them.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out to me the parcel of gloves which he had just been -announcing, in the presence of us all, that he had bought to pay the -debt which he had lost to Eveleen. That did freeze me. I sat up as -straight as a beanpole. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t understand you, Mr Hammond.” -</p> - -<p> -But I did not succeed in freezing him. He indulged in an affable -smile, which made him seem all teeth and mouth. -</p> - -<p> -“Quite simple. Hope you’ll permit me to have the pleasure of -presenting you with a box of gloves; you’ll find them rippers, got -them from a really decent fellow; makes specially for me—sixes.” -</p> - -<p> -“I take sevens.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you? Glad to hear it. Like a girl to have a good-sized hand. Hate -your little namby things, better suited to a doll than to the end of a -woman’s arm.” A nice observation to make, considering that both Audrey -and Doris were present, and that they are notorious for their tiny -hands. But Mr Hammond went unconcernedly on. “If you want a more -sensible size you can easily change them, or I will for you. I’ve got -a largish hand myself.” -</p> - -<p> -He had. He held out in front of me, with an air of simpering -satisfaction, the very largest hand I had ever seen. I wondered what -acreage of ground a hand like that might represent. But I did not -quite say so. -</p> - -<p> -“I understood you to say that those gloves were to settle a bet which -you had lost to Eveleen.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right. You take these—I’ll soon get her some -others—don’t you worry about Miss Eveleen.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would rather not take them, thank you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps you’re right; may as well get a decent size straight away—a -larger box—better quality. Got two stalls for the Gaiety to-night; -hope you’ll do me the pleasure of occupying one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I understand that you are offering me Eveleen’s stall?” -</p> - -<p> -“Much rather you came, if it’s all the same to you. Awfully jolly if -you would.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would rather not come, thank you, Mr Hammond.” -</p> - -<p> -Basil Carter came forward. I was really glad of his interference, -though I would rather he had been a little more sensible. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah will certainly not come with you, Hammond. And, in order -that you may not annoy her with your importunities, perhaps it would -be as well that I should tell you at once that to-night, at the Gaiety -Theatre, Miss Norah will share my box.” -</p> - -<p> -At once Mr Purchase contradicted him. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you wish to quarrel with me, Basil? Because, if not, I must ask -you to refrain from persisting in such statements. Already I have -borne them nearly as long as I can. Permit me to inform you, Hammond, -that it is my box which will be honoured by Miss Norah’s presence.” -</p> - -<p> -“You haven’t the faintest ground for such an assertion. To begin with, -you haven’t a box.” -</p> - -<p> -“I shall have one. And I have this ground, Basil, that the original -invitation to Miss Norah came from me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Fiddle-dee-dee!” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter snapped his fingers; and they were at it again. Mr Hammond -took advantage of their wrangling to press what he appeared to have -the audacity to regard as his claims. -</p> - -<p> -“As these gentlemen don’t seem to be able to agree as to whose guest -you are going to be, Miss Norah, I vote that you settle the question -by becoming mine. It would be splendid fun! First rate! Good -stalls—bang in the middle of the second row—better than a box—it -would be awfully sporting of you, don’t you know. Say you’ll come! -Yes! Do! Be the jolly good sort you look, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -Since the moment Mr Hammond had planted himself at my side, and -commenced to conduct himself in such a peculiar manner, both Audrey -and Doris had been speechless. Possibly they felt that the singularity -of the general proceedings went beyond the capacity of words. But when -that Hammond man—who, although a friend of Eveleen’s, was, to all -intents and purposes, a stranger to me—called me “a jolly good sort” -to my very face, Audrey burst out laughing, as though the joke had -gone past bearing. -</p> - -<p> -“What is the matter with you all?” she cried. “Is this a conspiracy -between you three, or have you suddenly gone mad? What is it in Norah -that has made her, all at once, such an irresistible object of -attention?” -</p> - -<p> -While she was still speaking Eveleen came in. She addressed herself to -her. -</p> - -<p> -“So, Eveleen, here you are at last; and it’s quite time you were here. -Perhaps you will be able to supply the key to the riddle. Mr Carter -and Mr Purchase have given Norah our roses and our seats at the -theatre; and now Mr Hammond is endeavouring to induce her to accept -your gloves and your stall. If there is a rational explanation of -these gentlemen’s behaviour, do, dear, lose no time in finding it.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen came forward with a smile, and that little alert air which -seems to suggest that there must be quicksilver in her veins. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the joke? Don’t keep me out of it. How do, Walter?” Their -acquaintance had got to the Christian-name stage. Eveleen is a little -familiar with her young men; though she encourages them to behave only -with the strictest decorum. “You’re looking rather chippy; have you -been having too many skittles since I saw you?” -</p> - -<p> -She can be slangy; particularly when she thinks that sort of thing is -sympathetic. I fancy she endeavours to adapt the style of her -conversation to her company. I am sure that when she has been talking -to a parson her language has seemed to reek of the odour of sanctity. -</p> - -<p> -I think she expected him to spring to his feet at sight of her, and -burst into a fit of jerky enthusiasm. If she did she was disappointed. -He just raised himself an inch or two, and, in an extremely -perfunctory fashion, extended to her the extreme tips of his fingers. -</p> - -<p> -“Feeling as fit as a fiddler. Sorry you don’t think I look it.” He -turned to me. “Don’t you think I’m looking pretty fit, Miss Norah?” -</p> - -<p> -A slight shade of surprise flitted across her features, as it had done -across Doris’ face, and Audrey’s. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you brought me my gloves?” -</p> - -<p> -“Did bring them—rather wanted Miss Norah to have them—seems she -takes a decent size—none of your little dollie flippers; so as -they’ll fit you, you may as well have them. Here you are. Now we’re -straight.” -</p> - -<p> -He thrust the parcel into her hands; she taking it with the expression -of surprise growing on her countenance. -</p> - -<p> -“And have you got the stall you promised me?” -</p> - -<p> -He inserted his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, and began to -shake himself in the manner which recalled a dog which has just come -out of the water. Only he did it in such a very jerky way that one -almost expected to hear his joints all cracking. -</p> - -<p> -“Got a stall—had dreadful bother to get one—seems as if everyone -wants to go to the place at the same time. If you don’t mind—and it -don’t make any difference to you—’pon my word don’t see why it -should—had rather Miss Norah went with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t understand you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I say that unless it upsets you in any way—and I don’t see how it -can—sure to find a chap who’ll be only too glad to place a stall at -your disposal—lots of chaps about—I’d rather Miss Norah went with -me—much rather—really; in fact I’ve asked her.” -</p> - -<p> -She looked at him in a way which I should have thought would have made -even such a hardened sinner, as he seemed to be, wince. But he failed -to turn a hair. -</p> - -<p> -“Still, I don’t quite understand. Do you mean, Walter, that you have -offered my stall to Norah—to my sister Norah?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes—that’s it—exactly what I do mean. It’s clear enough, don’t you -know. Don’t see where the difficulty comes in, ’pon my word. Only I -don’t quite see why you should call it <i>your</i> stall, really! I paid -for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You paid for it? I see. And did you offer my gloves—these gloves, to -Norah also?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right. I wanted her to have them; but as she has a really -decent sort of hand, they’re miles too small for her, so as I know -they’ll be all right for you, you may as well have them. Don’t you -worry about that a little bit.” -</p> - -<p> -She looked about her with an air of bewilderment as if seeking an -explanation from someone, somewhere. Her face had quite altered during -the few moments she had been in the room. Even her voice had changed, -it seemed to have grown husky. I knew that she was really fond of Mr -Hammond. He had been in the habit of prostrating himself in the dust -at her feet. It must have been a dreadful wrench to have been spoken -to by him like that. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose that there is a joke somewhere; but I’m so dull that I -don’t see where. Norah, has Mr Hammond really done as he says? What -have you been doing?” -</p> - -<p> -She favoured me with an accusatory glance, as if I had been guilty of -the blackest crimes. Audrey came to my rescue. -</p> - -<p> -“To do her justice, so far as I have seen, Norah has been doing -nothing. Norah has been sitting mumchance; scarcely saying boo! to a -goose, as if she were on prickles. The men appear to have done all the -doing—unless they have been indulging in an elaborate practical joke, -at her expense, and ours, which they have already carried too far to -be in the best of taste. It may be funny, in its way, which is not a -pretty one.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was continuing to glare at me, as if she would have liked her -eyes to have scorched my face. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you going with Mr Hammond?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter took upon himself to answer. -</p> - -<p> -“No, Miss Eveleen; Miss Norah is not going with Mr Hammond. Miss Norah -is going with me.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen looked up at him. -</p> - -<p> -“With you?” -</p> - -<p> -Before he could reply, Mr Purchase interposed: -</p> - -<p> -“Again adventuring, Basil, upon forbidden ground, and, in so doing, -conveying a totally wrong impression. Miss Eveleen, Miss Norah will be -my guest.” -</p> - -<p> -“Jack, do you wish to tempt me to lose my temper?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Basil, let me beg you to remember.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond reseated himself at my side. -</p> - -<p> -“Since these two chaps do nothing but call each other names!”—they -had not called each other a single name up to then; it was only that -Mr Hammond has his own way of expressing himself—“supposing we fix it -quietly between ourselves. As they can’t hit it off who you’re to go -with, don’t you go with either of them—you go with me. That’ll suit -me to a T!—down to the ground, Miss Norah! We shan’t quarrel; you can -bet your hat on that, and your boots on top of it. We’ll have the best -time, Miss Norah, if you’ll take my word for it, that anyone ever did -have yet. I’ll do you a treat, on my honour! And if you’ll only say -yes, you’ll come, you’ll make me pretty nearly as happy as if I’d won -the Derby on my very own horse—you can lay your money on it all the -while.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter touched him on the shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“Surely, Hammond, it cannot be necessary to again ask you to refrain -from troubling Miss Norah, who, this evening, will be my guest!” -</p> - -<p> -“But that’s just the point, my dear chap! Will she? Purchase says -not.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do say not. And that for the sufficient reason that she will be -mine. And that is also a reason, Hammond, why you should not continue -your persecution of Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“There you are—one says one thing, t’other says t’other. What I want -to know is, who’s who? which is which? what’s what? Straight -tip!—fight it out between yourselves. Leave Miss Norah and I to fix -up things between ourselves! There’s a friendly hint for you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Hammond, is it possible that you intend to be impertinent?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear boy, there isn’t a grain of impertinence in the whole of my -constitution, honest Injun! All I ask is—talk sense.” -</p> - -<p> -“The sense of the matter is that Miss Norah will be my guest.” -</p> - -<p> -“Jack, that’s utter nonsense!” -</p> - -<p> -“There you are! there you are! Where are you?” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen spoke, her words coming from her lips like drops of vitriol. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you think, Norah, that you had better favour all three of these -gentlemen with your delightful company? It would be so nice—for them, -and for you—and it would save further complications.” She turned to -Audrey and Doris. “Has it not occurred to you two girls that we are -rather in the way?” -</p> - -<p> -Both Audrey and Doris burst out laughing. I do not know what at. There -did not seem to be much merriment in their mirth. While they were -still making those somewhat discordant sounds, Major Paul Tibbet -entered the room. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch10"> -CHAPTER X.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE COMPROMISE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Everybody</span> that afternoon seemed to be bringing something. We might -have been spreading broadcast an announcement that each caller was -expected to provide himself with an offering as evidence of good -faith. The moment I set eyes on Major Tibbet I perceived that he had -his. It took the shape of a brown-paper parcel of some size, and, -apparently, some weight, since he bore it in front of him, on both -arms, as if it were a baby. As he is not the kind of person one would -expect to see carry a parcel of any kind, the effect was a little -funny. -</p> - -<p> -Audrey’s and Doris’ forced laughter seemed to give him a false -impression of what was going on. He broke into what he probably -intended should be a smile of the extremest affability. -</p> - -<p> -“I come at a fortunate moment, to find you laughing! full of fun! -Nothing so delightful as the merriment of young ladies. I thoroughly -enjoy a joke, myself.” He addressed Audrey. “I have here a trifle -which I trust will not meet with the disapprobation of Mrs O’Brady.” -</p> - -<p> -“It doesn’t look as if it were a trifle.” -</p> - -<p> -“Between ourselves, it’s not—weighs twenty pounds if an -ounce—magnificent bird—pick of the market.” His voice assumed a tone -of great solemnity. “It’s a truffled turkey—prepared by my own chef, -with his own hands, after a recipe of his own. A <i>chef-d’œuvre</i>; an -unique, Miss Audrey, an unique!” -</p> - -<p> -The Major makes a god of his belly. The only things he really cares -for—besides the decoration of his ridiculous old person—are things -to eat and drink. He keeps the menus of his dinners. He can give you -the history—with all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed—of meals he -ate thirty years ago; with the names of all the dishes, detailed -accounts of how they were cooked, and realistic descriptions of how -they tasted. It gives me a feeling of having over-eaten myself to hear -him talk. -</p> - -<p> -“I have ventured, also, Miss Audrey, to command a small dinner at the -King’s to-night, which I am hopeful that Mrs O’Brady will do me the -honour of eating with me. I will tell you what I have ordered——” -</p> - -<p> -“Had you not better tell mamma that? She might like to be the first -recipient of so delicious a communication.” -</p> - -<p> -“You may be right. I think you probably are. When one considers the -matter broadly, one perceives that that would only be just to Mrs -O’Brady. I will tell you afterwards, Miss Audrey; only a pleasure -postponed, that’s all. This parcel is a trifle heavy; I think, with -your permission, I should like to——” -</p> - -<p> -As he began to look about for a spot on which to deposit his -twenty-pound turkey, his eyes travelled in my direction. When they -reached me, he started. He came a step nearer, as if, at that -distance, his poor, faded, old eyes were not perfectly sure that it -was I. Having made up his mind upon the point, he quite obviously -started again, coming close up to me with a sort of little canter. At -the same moment I was conscious—though the Major was not—that mamma -had entered the room, and stood just inside the door, listening and -looking on. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Miss Norah, fancy my not noticing you before—most -extraordinary! Can’t think how it could have happened. I’m sure, I beg -ten thousand pardons. However, better late than never; you know the -old saying, my dear Miss Norah. Allow me to present you with this -truffled turkey—done by my own man. If I were to tell you, in -confidence, what I pay the fellow, you’d stare. I’ve reason to believe -that, before you put your fork into him, this bird will have cost me -five pounds. Yet I dare to assert that, by the time you have done with -him, you will agree with me that he was worth every farthing of it, -Miss Norah, every farthing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I do not care for truffled turkey.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not care for truffled turkey! What are you saying, Miss Norah? You -can’t mean it. I suppose it’s a jest of yours—an excellent one, too. -Because, of course, it isn’t possible that anyone shouldn’t care for -truffled turkey.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is not only possible, but, in my case, it’s an actual fact. I do -not care for truffled turkey, Major Tibbet. Nor, in any case, could I -accept a gift which was intended for my mother.” -</p> - -<p> -When I said this, I saw mamma—who, with the aid of her <i>pince-nez</i>, -had been taking the liveliest interest in the Major’s remarks—give a -kind of little jump. I knew that she liked truffled turkey, and that, -indeed, on the subject of eating and drinking, generally, she and the -Major were in considerable sympathy. I suppose that, when people grow -old, they are fonder of that kind of thing than when they are young. -</p> - -<p> -That gormandising Major, in complete unconsciousness of who was -standing behind him, threw mamma’s prior claim upon his wretched bird -entirely overboard. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, your mother, your respected mother. I do like to find young girls -considering their mothers. It’s a sweet trait—yes, it’s a very sweet -trait—in your character, Miss Norah. Still, I’ve no doubt that you -and I, between us, shall be able to manage with your mother, -afterwards—that is, if you will condescend to accept my little -offering.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I will not.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, in that case, we’ll say no more about it, and we’ll settle it -in this way. I’ve ordered dinner at the King’s restaurant this -evening. If they carry out my instructions—and, if they don’t, -they’ll hear of it!—I think I can promise you something which shall -be worthy even of—Miss Norah; if Miss Norah will permit me to count -upon her as my guest.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought, Major Tibbet, that the dinner also was intended for -mamma.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Miss Norah, really! you are unduly severe, you really are! -You should never go behind an invitation—never. When I invite you, I -invite you, and venture to anticipate a favourable reply. It would -make me so happy, Miss Norah, it really would.” -</p> - -<p> -Jack Purchase came forward. -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, Major Tibbet. Perhaps, Miss Norah, I had better explain. -Major Tibbet, Miss Norah will not be able to dine with you to-night, -as she is sharing my box at the Gaiety Theatre.” -</p> - -<p> -Basil Carter followed. -</p> - -<p> -“Major Tibbet, in a sense, that statement is correct—with the -solitary exception that it is my box which Miss Norah is going to -share.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Basil, have I again to remonstrate with you?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Jack, the remonstrance would more properly come from me!” -</p> - -<p> -Walter Hammond thrust in his comments, seeming to jerk out his limbs -in all directions as he spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“At it again! Nice boys, aren’t they, Miss Norah? Always in their -little nests agree! Since still they can’t make up their minds who’s -who, and what’s what, and Tibbet’s a little late with his dinner, do -say, Miss Norah, you’ll have that stall of mine. It’ll be so sporting -of you, don’t you know; and you’ll be able to nod now and then at -Purchase and Carter, as they sit glaring at each other in their -boxes.” -</p> - -<p> -Apparently mamma had arrived at the conclusion that it was time to -announce her presence. -</p> - -<p> -“What does this discussion mean? And how is it that Norah has all at -once become the centre of so much attention? Norah, what have you been -doing? How are you, gentlemen? Good-afternoon, Major.” -</p> - -<p> -Major Tibbet advanced to mamma, holding out his brown paper parcel—of -which I rather suspected he had become wearied. -</p> - -<p> -“Here you are, Mrs O’Brady! How are you? Hope you’re well. Here’s a -truffled turkey for you. Miss Norah doesn’t seem to care for it, but -I’m sure you will. Much pleasure in giving it you, I’m sure.” -</p> - -<p> -Whether mamma had equal pleasure in accepting it was not so -obvious—particularly after the remarks which she could not have -helped but hear, and the manner of presentation was, to say the least, -peculiar. Without waiting to see if mamma was ready to relieve him of -his burden, he forced it on her in such a very singular fashion that -it went crashing to the floor. He did not stop to inquire if it had -fallen on her feet, which it might easily have done, and twenty pounds -is twenty pounds when it falls upon your tightly-fitting slippers; -still less did he trouble himself to even offer to pick it up again. -The moment he had got rid of it he came bustling back to me, mumbling -an apology which was fashioned on lines which were distinctly his own. -</p> - -<p> -“Beg pardon—thought you’d got it—really! Better ring the bell, and -tell servant to take it away—thing’s so heavy, nearly broken both my -arms—couldn’t have held it another moment, really! Now, Miss Norah, -about this dinner to-night. I’ve ordered a bisque, which—I give you -my personal assurance—when you have once tasted it you will not -easily forget.” -</p> - -<p> -Again there came an interposition from Mr Purchase. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah will not have an opportunity of forgetting the—article in -question, since it is apparently necessary to repeat to you that, this -evening, she is engaged to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“To me, that is.” -</p> - -<p> -This, of course, was Basil Carter. -</p> - -<p> -“I would recommend you, Major Tibbet, to understand that Purchase -speaks in a general sense only, since, in the letter, as a matter of -plain fact, Miss Norah is engaged to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Major Tibbet, Basil, is too wise a man to discredit my positive -statement.” -</p> - -<p> -“He will be an exceedingly unwise one if he casts the faintest shadow -of a doubt on mine.” -</p> - -<p> -Then came Mr Hammond. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m the last person in the world to wish to breed dissension where -there’s disputing already, because a pretty quarrel’s too good a thing -to spoil; but I take leave to remark, Mr Carter, and Mr Purchase, and -Major Tibbet, that Miss Norah will relieve you of all your -difficulties by bestowing her society on me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Norah,” observed mamma, in that icy tone which I knew so well, and -which I knew suggested that she was not in the very sweetest temper, -“I think you had better retire to your own room.” -</p> - -<p> -“To her own room!” cried Mr Hammond. “And why, Mrs O’Brady, would you -break our hearts and darken the heavens?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know if you are aware, Mr Hammond, that at least your -language is peculiar. I am afraid that Norah must have been forgetting -herself to be the cause of this—singular scene.” -</p> - -<p> -“Forgetting herself? Not at all! It’s we who have been remembering -her—that’s how it is, Mrs O’Brady. And, between ourselves, I’d be -glad if you’d tell her that you’d like her to occupy a stall I have -to-night at the Gaiety Theatre.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, Mrs O’Brady,” interposed Basil Carter, “but Mr Hammond -seems disposed to take an unfair advantage of you. It is I who would -ask you to permit Miss Norah to share my box.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs O’Brady,” exclaimed Jack Purchase, “before you say one word to -either of them, please allow me to inform you that it was I who first -asked Miss Norah to honour me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how about my dinner at the King’s!” cried Major Tibbet. “I need -hardly tell you, Mrs O’Brady, that I have the good fortune to be -somewhat the senior of these young gentlemen, and it is therefore with -every confidence that I ask you this evening to entrust Miss Norah to -me.” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma’s manner, as she replied, was anything but genial. -</p> - -<p> -“Whether consciously or not I cannot say, but you gentlemen are -behaving with more than a little singularity. You seem oblivious of -the fact that other ladies are present besides this—child. Must I -again request you, Norah, to oblige me by at once retiring to your own -room?” -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly a voice came from the door, and Mr Rumford advanced at a pace -which was hardly becoming to his decidedly well-developed figure—in -his hand the ubiquitous box. He and Lilian had entered together, and -only a second before, unless I was much mistaken, I had seen him -offering it to her. Now he withdrew it, with what was very like a -snatch, from her approaching fingers. -</p> - -<p> -“Retire to her own room!” he protested, in that loud, ringing voice of -his, which always made me think what an excellent cheap-jack he would -have made. “You couldn’t be so cruel, Mrs O’Brady. It’s not to be -thought of, not for a moment. May I ask you to accept these bonbons, -dear Miss Norah? I am sure you have a sweet tooth—it would be so in -character. And I am so fortunate as to have two stalls to-night for -the Gaiety Theatre. If you would avail yourself of one——” -</p> - -<p> -He was interrupted by Audrey breaking into an apparently irresistible -peal of laughter. Everyone turned to stare at her. That sort of thing -is so unusual in Audrey, who is generally the quietest of persons. I, -for one, had never heard her laugh like that before. She endeavoured -to explain what had caused her merriment. -</p> - -<p> -“It really is so funny; all the world is going to-night to the Gaiety -Theatre. The coincidence is most amusing.” -</p> - -<p> -“And yet the explanation is extremely simple,” commented Eveleen, -speaking in a coldly acid voice, which meant that she was raging hot -within. “We have all been talking about it lately, and I suppose that -we have all dropped hints that we would like to go. These gentlemen, -with that generosity which we know is one of their most charming -characteristics, have acted on those hints—up to a certain point. -They have all, with one accord, provided themselves with seats. Are we -to take it, Norah, that you propose to occupy them all?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond snapped his fingers, making a noise like the report of a -pop gun. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve hit it on the head, Miss Eveleen; prevented bloodshed, and -solved the problem. Miss Norah, we’ll act upon your sister’s hint. -Tibbet, we all of us will dine with you.” -</p> - -<p> -The Major looked as if the proposition took him by surprise—which was -not to be wondered at. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll excuse me, Mr Hammond, but I’m hanged if you will.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then Miss Norah won’t, for to-night we hunt in companies.” -</p> - -<p> -The Major looked at the speaker with a rueful countenance. -</p> - -<p> -“How many are there of you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Four, barring Miss Norah, and she counts for all the world. At what -time do you dine?” -</p> - -<p> -“I, sir, dine at eight.” -</p> - -<p> -“Eight! Why, man, that’s the time the theatre begins. You’ll dine at -seven.” -</p> - -<p> -“You adopt a very peculiar tone, Mr Hammond, in endeavouring to -dictate to me at what hour I take my meals. I entirely decline to -contemplate the possibility of my dining at such an un-Christian hour -as seven.” -</p> - -<p> -“Good! then we’ll dine at seven, and you’ll dine afterwards. When -we’ve dined we’ll go on together in a body to the theatre, and Miss -Norah shall take it turn and turn about to sit with us. What do you -say, gentlemen? Isn’t that a sporting proposition?” -</p> - -<p> -“On condition that Miss Norah sits first of all with me, I, for one, -am not indisposed, for the sake of peace, to waive some portion of my -undoubted rights.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Basil Carter. Mr Purchase came hard upon his heels. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Basil, you’ve taken the words out of my mouth. If Miss Norah -sits first with me, Hammond, you may count me in.” -</p> - -<p> -“Gentlemen! gentlemen!” cried Mr Rumford. “It appears to me that I -have a voice in the matter; I claim the place of honour.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond endeavoured to throw oil upon the waters. -</p> - -<p> -“Softly! keep a tight hand upon the reins. Wait till the gate has -gone, then we’ll all be off together. There need be no difficulty -about a little thing like that. For my part, if the running’s fair, -I’m willing that my stall shall be the last Miss Norah sits in; -that’ll suit me all the way. But there are ways and means of settling -that sort of thing pleasantly and quietly between ourselves. The main -point is the principle—we’re to share and share alike. If that’s -conceded, we’ll worry about the details afterwards. You understand, -Miss Norah, that you’re to dine with us at seven. We’ll be here, the -lot of us, to fetch you at a quarter to. For the sake of all the good -horses that ever ran an honest race, be ready—don’t keep us -waiting—we’ll be an anxious crowd. And, until then, Miss Norah, I’ll -be wishing you good-bye.” -</p> - -<p> -“I also, Miss Norah,” said Mr Carter, taking my hand before I knew -that he meant to offer me his. “I am well aware that your near -neighbourhood will bring happiness to me, but, at the same time, I -would have you clearly realise that I only relinquish the rare -privilege of your undivided society throughout the evening for the -sake of that harmony which I know you would desire.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah,” urged Mr Purchase, “do not for one moment suppose that, -in self-abnegation, Basil is one whit in front of me. What I suffer by -acceding, for the sake of peace, to the compromise which has been -suggested, it is possible that you will one day know.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s you only I’m thinking of, Miss Norah,” declared Mr Rumford. “I -needn’t tell you which I’m likely to prefer, to have you all to -myself—blissful thought, Miss Norah!—or to—to share you with a -crowd.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Rumford looked about him in a way which certainly was not -suggestive of the harmony of which they all were speaking. Major -Tibbet joined himself to the chorus, with a simper which ill became -him. -</p> - -<p> -“You will judge what my feelings are, Miss Norah, when I tell you -that, for your sake, I will consent to dine at seven. I have made it -one of the rules of my life never to dine, anywhere, before eight. How -long it is since I dined at the abnormal hour of seven, I am unable to -say positively, without referring. But so far as my memory serves -me—and in matters of such importance I think my memory may be -trusted—I say, that so far as my memory serves me——” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, we know what you say, Tibbet; and you can say the rest to-night. -Remember, Miss Norah, a quarter to seven—sharp!” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond thrust his arm through the Major’s and bore him away. The -five men all left the room, and I was left alone with the girls and -mamma. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch11"> -CHAPTER XI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE TURNING OF THE WORM</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">No</span> one spoke a word for quite a minute. The girls and mamma were -looking at me—I was conscious of their eyes all over me—and I was -looking at the floor. I felt as if I had been guilty of—to say the -very least—the gravest impropriety, though I had not the faintest -notion how, and was thoroughly well aware that now the storm was about -to burst,—which presently it did. Mamma began—in that tone of voice -in which she addresses observations to the servants which she dares -them to deny. It gives you the impression that she is sitting on the -safety-valve, and that in another half-second there will be a blow-up. -And there generally is. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, may I ask you to tell me what is the meaning of the scene -which I have just witnessed?” -</p> - -<p> -I smoothed the petals of one of Mr Carter’s roses. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, mamma, you know as well as I do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Please don’t speak to me in that impertinent manner.” Her voice was -raised perhaps half a tone. “I insist upon an explanation. Why have -these men behaved in so disgraceful a fashion, and what encouragement -have you been giving them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Encouragement? I?” I glanced up with what I intended to be my air of -perfect innocence. I do not fancy, from the expression which was on -mamma’s countenance, that she quite liked the look which was on mine. -“Audrey and Doris have been here the whole time. They will be able to -tell you what encouragement I have offered.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you expect me to believe that these men would have given -you—you!—the presents which were intended for your sisters, unless -you had offered them some extraordinary and disgraceful -encouragement?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not know why they gave the things to me. I am sure I did not -want them. I could not have told them so more plainly. I shall have -pleasure in handing them over to whoever you think they were -originally intended for.” -</p> - -<p> -Doris spoke. She was still sitting on the couch, her arms raised, her -hands clasped under the back of her head, her face turned towards the -ceiling. Her manner was smilingly acid. -</p> - -<p> -“How nice of you, Norah! And will you really give me Mr Purchase’s red -roses, and Audrey Mr Carter’s pink ones, and Lilian Mr Rumford’s -bonbons? Eveleen already has Mr Hammond’s gloves, and mamma the -Major’s turkey,—at least, she will have, when she picks it up from -the floor, since those you declined to accept. How very sweet you are! -Think of studying our feelings to that extent.” -</p> - -<p> -Lilian came forward. She looked more disagreeable than any of them. -Considering that Mr Rumford’s conduct had been so very unexpected, and -that she had made up her mind that it was time that she should marry -someone, and that Mr Rumford was the most eligible person who seemed -likely to present himself, there was some excuse for her, though I do -not think she need have been quite so vicious as she was. -</p> - -<p> -“At any rate, I will have those bonbons. They certainly were not meant -for you.” -</p> - -<p> -She positively snatched at the box, which was on the ottoman at my -side. I looked up at her with my sweetest smile. -</p> - -<p> -“With the greatest possible pleasure, my dear Lilian. I should not -wish to accept anything from Mr Rumford. You know that he is not the -sort of person to whom I should care to be indebted in the smallest -particular.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then don’t you dare to go to the Gaiety with him to-night!” -</p> - -<p> -“Dare? My dear Lilian, what very odd language you do use. It’s not a -question of daring, I can assure you.” I smiled down at Mr Carter’s -roses, which I had exchanged for Mr Purchase’s. “It’s not my fault if -he prefers to take me instead of you—is it?” -</p> - -<p> -I thought she would have boxed my ears. I feel sure she would have -liked to. Eveleen laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“And I suppose,” she said, “that it’s not your fault if they all of -them prefer to take you instead of us.” -</p> - -<p> -I kept on smiling at the roses. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know why they should prefer it. I haven’t an idea.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is a novel experience, isn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I certainly haven’t been to the theatre with so many gentlemen as -you, if that’s what you mean.” -</p> - -<p> -I did not raise my eyes, but I have a suspicion that Eveleen looked at -me a little waspishly. -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder if, after all, you are cleverer than we have given you -credit for. If so, you have managed to hide your light under a bushel -for a good many years. You must excuse my saying so, but you seem this -afternoon to have performed a sort of conjuring trick.” -</p> - -<p> -“A conjuring trick? How?” -</p> - -<p> -“You have captured, at a single stroke, the five hearts which, -separately and individually, we have been laboriously cultivating, and -all the seats which were meant for us; while we—we, alas!—have been -left lamenting. Don’t you think yourself that that’s a sort of -conjuring trick?” -</p> - -<p> -“You know, Eveleen, men are very fickle.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have had some experience of men, as you have hinted, and I am -painfully aware, my dear child, of the truth of that elementary fact -in natural history; but I did not know that they were fickle to quite -the extent which you suggest. I personally have never before seen them -perform a right-about-face quite so rapidly, or quite so impudently -either.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey came and planted herself on the carpet at my feet. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me look at you, Norah. Every marvel, the wise inform us, is -capable of a natural explanation; so perhaps this is.” I was conscious -that those lovely eyes of hers, which see everything, were subjecting -me to a curious scrutiny. “Do you know that there is something -different about you somehow. It’s a sort of atmosphere. I’m sensible -of it as I look at you. Let me see your eyes.” I did. I saw her -breathe more quickly the moment they were fastened on her face. -“That’s it! Child, what hankey-pankey have you been indulging in?” She -laid her hands upon my knees. “Do you know that there is magic in your -eyes, and that you’re prettier than I am?” -</p> - -<p> -“Audrey! Don’t talk such nonsense! As if I didn’t know!” -</p> - -<p> -“I beat you in regularity of feature—in those formal charms which go -to the composition of a picture; but there’s magic in your eyes. No -man could look at them and remain unmoved. I can’t. They move me quite -funnily. I’d like to kiss them, and I’m not a kissing person as a -rule. Masculine flesh is much more susceptible than mine. Doris, come -here and look at her, and tell me if you don’t see exactly what I -mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m much obliged, but I don’t happen to be interested. I have seen -too many persons apparently moved by them already. What I want to know -is, is Jack Purchase going to be moved by them for ever.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey had never looked away from my face. Although she might not have -been aware of it, in her voice there came a touch of anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, you’re not fond of Mr Carter, are you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well—in a kind of a way.” -</p> - -<p> -“In a kind of a way? What kind of a way? Remember, child, that what is -sport to you may be—something else to me.” -</p> - -<p> -I was in a mischievous frame of mind. Each moment the mood was growing -on me. What is more, my courage had returned. When I thought of what I -had suffered at the hands of those four girls, and realised that now -an opportunity had come—though goodness only knew whence, or how, or -why!—to pay them back some of their own coin, an imp of malice seemed -to enter into me, so that I did not care what I did or said. Ignoring -Audrey’s evident earnestness I tried to seem as indifferent as I -could. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t like him as much as I do Jack Purchase.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you, indeed!” retorted Doris, still with her face upturned. -“What an altogether delightful person you seem to have suddenly -become—such a storehouse of all the sisterly virtues. You have my -permission to like Mr Purchase as much as you please; and he is at -liberty to like you—if he is that sort of person.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s ridiculous!” cried Lilian, in that vicious way of hers. “Norah -is nothing but a great, ungainly, awkward gawk. She always has been, -and always will be. She is as little likely to appeal to a decent man -as one of Barnum’s freaks. The only kind of person to whom she is -likely to commend herself is such a monstrosity as Crooked Ben.” -</p> - -<p> -When she said that, I went hot all over. I made up my mind that I -would show her no mercy, at any rate. -</p> - -<p> -“If that is so isn’t it rather queer that Mr Rumford should prefer my -society to yours?” -</p> - -<p> -“He doesn’t, and you know very well he doesn’t. If you suppose he does -then you must be a little madder even than I thought, and I am not -conscious of ever having rated your intellectual capacity highly. -These men have simply combined to make you the victim of a stupid -practical joke. They know you are dull, and have traded on that -knowledge to a degree for which I readily admit there is no excuse.” -</p> - -<p> -“You think so?” -</p> - -<p> -“Surely you are not going to be such an idiot as to take their -tomfooleries seriously? Use your common-sense—or what stands you in -the place of common-sense. Has any one of them ever treated you with -sufficient civility to enable you to justify to yourself their -ridiculous conduct of this afternoon—the preposterous pose they have -taken up? On the contrary, haven’t they studiously ignored your very -existence—except on those occasions when they have gone out of their -way to laugh at you.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s true enough. I’m afraid they have not been very nice to me—in -the past.” -</p> - -<p> -“In the past! Do you consider, then, that they have treated you nicely -in the present—this afternoon—just now, for instance?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am of opinion that they have behaved very horridly to us—including -Norah. We should be quite justified in never admitting them into the -house again. Were I Norah I should signify my resentment of their -conduct in a fashion which they would not be likely to forget. -However, tastes differ. It is possible that Norah has her own ideas.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Doris. Then came Eveleen—in almost everything she said there -was a meaning which was not upon the surface. She is just a mistress -of innuendo. -</p> - -<p> -“There are people who would prefer to occupy the peculiar position of -a common butt rather than not be taken notice of at all. Perhaps these -gentlemen have counted on the fact. In some men the sense of humour -takes such an odd direction.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey showed that she had a clearer insight into the real inwardness -of the matter than all the rest of them put together. -</p> - -<p> -“You are wrong—all of you. This afternoon Norah is a witch—she has -bewitched them.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen sneered. -</p> - -<p> -“Really? What a very simple, lucid, and satisfactory explanation of -these gentlemen’s wrong-headedness.” -</p> - -<p> -“Audrey!” cried Lilian. “How can you talk such nonsense? Do you want -to make a greater fool of her than she has been made already.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lilian, your temper is such a short one; do keep hold of it. I’m not -holding a brief for Norah; but if you come here and look at her eyes, -and realise the intangible something which is in the atmosphere which -surrounds her, you’ll catch my meaning—for you’re almost as good a -judge of that sort of thing as I am!” -</p> - -<p> -But Lilian was not to be persuaded. -</p> - -<p> -“Mamma,” she exclaimed, “why do you allow Audrey to back up those -wretched men in their attempts to turn poor Norah’s naturally silly -head? Do you consider that their behaviour this afternoon has been -creditable either to themselves, or to us, or to you? We are your -daughters. Can you not insist on our being treated, at any rate while -we are in your house, with at least the elements of common respect?” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma assumed what she meant to be her most dignified air. Her remarks -were intended to be both judicial and crushing. -</p> - -<p> -“Lilian, you forget yourself, and me. I have hitherto shown myself -capable of watching over my daughters, so far as they have permitted -me to do so. Unfortunately, in some directions, the young women of the -present day are in advance of their parents. Audrey, I must request -you not to make foolish remarks to Norah, who has already been placed -in a sufficiently ridiculous position. Norah, I will not comment at -this moment on the extremely singular manner in which you have deemed -it proper to behave. I find it difficult to credit that I have been -witnessing the conduct of a child of my own. But on that subject I -shall have plenty to say later; of that you may be sure. In the -meantime you will be so good as to understand that I positively forbid -you ever to speak to either of these gentlemen again, or to remain, -under any circumstances, in a room in which they are. Now you will -please to leave this room, and retire to your own.” -</p> - -<p> -She moved on one side, as if she expected me to march right past her -then and there. But I didn’t. I put first Mr Carter’s and then Mr -Purchase’s roses to my nose, and kept on smiling. -</p> - -<p> -“Never speak to them again? Mamma, what do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“I mean exactly what I say; and what I say is intelligible even to -you. Now, go.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, mamma, I am going to dine with them, and going to the theatre -with them afterwards.” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma came a step nearer. She looked very angry indeed. -</p> - -<p> -“Be careful, Norah, that you don’t go too far.” -</p> - -<p> -“Too far! Mamma, what do you mean? You heard them ask me, press me -even—especially Major Tibbet—and the arrangements which were made. -They are coming here in a body at a quarter to seven;—and you, -Eveleen, must have noticed how Mr Hammond begged and prayed I wouldn’t -keep them waiting.” -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, let me advise you not to force me to resort to measures which -you will afterwards have serious cause to regret. Don’t defy me! You -have not seemed to be a child of mine from the day that you were born. -You have been a burden to me and your sisters all along. Your conduct -this afternoon is a climax. The limits of my patience are nearly -reached. Do as I tell you—leave this room.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll leave this room with pleasure. After what you have said I’m -hardly likely to be tempted to remain. But before I go I mean to have -my say and it’s no use, mamma, your trying to stop me.” -</p> - -<p> -I stood up, a bunch of roses in either hand; and though mamma looked -as if she would have liked to annihilate me then and there, I fancy -there was something in my appearance which persuaded even her that it -might be advisable, just this once, to let me gang my own queer gait. -I was so much larger than she was, in every way, that to attempt -physical coercion would, obviously, be absurd. And it seemed that no -other measures would avail; so I had my say. -</p> - -<p> -“You have it that I have been a burden to you and to the girls. Does -it not occur to you that there may be another side to that position, -and that you and the girls have been a burden to me? I suggest it with -no unfilial intention, or in any spirit of disrespect; but doesn’t it? -So far back as I can remember you have never treated me as if I seemed -to be your child. You have thwarted my every wish, tried to force me -into grooves for which nature has unfitted me, trammelled me wherever -I sought expansion. You have always held my sisters up to me as models -of all the virtues—as I have not the slightest doubt they are—and -you have taught them to regard me as half idiot, half monster. I -readily admit that they have been willing pupils, so that I verily -believe that you and they have come to look upon me as of different -flesh and blood than yourselves—almost as something lower than the -beasts that grovel. My life, so far, has been an arid waste. I do not -think that during the whole of it I have known a week’s real -happiness, which is scant measure when you consider what a good time -the girls have always had. You must concede that my turn to have a -good time is nearly due. If you do or don’t, it’s come. I present, my -dear mamma and sisters, an, I am afraid, unpalatable fact—that my -turn to have a good time has come. As Audrey puts it—I’m a witch. -I’ve become one in the twinkling of an eye—just as it happens in the -fairy tales. You have seen how I bewitched those five men whom you -have all been so assiduously courting. Yes—courting; it’s no good any -of you looking black—it’s the exact word. In your dexterous, -delicate, dainty way you’ve all of you courted every man you’ve ever -met. Now, I never courted any man.” -</p> - -<p> -“For reasons,” murmured Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, Eveleen, for reasons; one of them being that you’ve always done -your best to make it clear how absurd it would be for me to attempt to -court any man who was in the least desirable. Yet now these men have -courted me!—you’ve seen it with your own eyes!—to the ruination of -your tempers! At sight of me they’ve thrown themselves at my head -before your very faces, pressed on me the offerings which were -designed for you, implored my acceptance of the seats which you had -hoped to occupy. And they have left the house, ignoring your -existence—as mine has been wont to be ignored; thinking only of me, -looking forward rapturously to the evening they hope to spend in my -society. And they shall spend it, too. I’ll sit in all those seats, -turn and turn about, one after the other; and I’ll be admired by all -the theatre—or, at least, by all the men in it. You wait and you -shall see; or, if you don’t see, afterwards you shall hear. It will -amuse you hugely, I haven’t the slightest doubt. And I’ll dine with -them. You know, mamma, that Major Tibbet can be trusted to order a -dinner; and though I mayn’t do it such justice as you would, I’ll do -my best. And I should like to see any of you try to stop me. How would -you propose to do it? Physically, I’m a match for all of you together. -In a muscular sense, I’m a splendid animal. Compared to me you’re like -dolls, soft as putty—you pride yourselves on it!—while I’m -comparatively as hard as iron. I could drop you out of the window, one -after the other, or all together, with the greatest ease.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey touched my arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, don’t talk like that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am only putting a purely supposititious case, my dearest Audrey. -What is more, if any of you were to seek to stay me with so much as a -word, when those men come I’d make my complaint to them; then you’d -see what it means for a man to be bewitched by a woman. At a word from -me there’s nothing they would not do. I’ve but to raise my finger, and -they’d cast what you call decency to the winds. Then you’d see the -natural man; it would surprise you. They’re just my slaves. And now -that I have made the position clear to you, and my intentions plain, I -shall have much pleasure—in leaving you the room.” -</p> - -<p> -I left it. I fancy I left them in rather a curious frame of mind as -well. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch12"> -CHAPTER XII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MISS NORAH’S SOLILOQUY</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I do</span> not know that I was wholly proud of myself as I went up to my -room—not even so proud as I had led those dear creatures in the -drawing-room to suppose. I imagine I must really be an odd kind of -creature, because I am not at all sure that it is not vulgar to make -man, either in a general or particular sense, the entire end and -object of their existence, as so many women—who think themselves very -far from vulgar—do. To be perfectly frank, I have no opinion whatever -of man. Perhaps that is because he has none of me. Up to the present, -he emphatically does not seem to have. But that only places me in the -position of the onlooker who sees most of the game. I have seen some -games, I give you my word for it. And I have come to the conclusion -that man is useful, in his way; generous, sometimes; of service, -occasionally, as a husband and a father; and that, as a sort of -courier, or Cook’s conductor, looking after the wants, ways, and whims -of women, not altogether to be despised. But he is frightfully earthy, -and has a most amazing conceit of himself. And why so many -women—delightful, charming women—should spend their whole lives in -endeavouring to please him, and swell with pride when they fancy they -have succeeded in doing so—that is beyond my comprehension. -</p> - -<p> -I was not so clear as I should like to have been that there was not a -smack of vulgarity about my passages with those five men. It was -undeniably vulgar to crow, as if I had done something to crow about; -and I was uncomfortably conscious of a tendency towards an attitude of -mind which I should describe as cock-a-doodle. Because, after all, -what had I done? Simply caused those five men to behave with peculiar -and unpardonable rudeness to my mother and sisters, and—well, not too -nicely towards me. For I could not regard it as a compliment that they -should hustle each other, and nearly snap each other’s nose off, in -their eagerness for my society. Or, rather, if it were a compliment, -it was not the kind I cared for. At least, I did not think it was. -</p> - -<p> -Yet—it was amusing. Really funny. When I thought how silly and -awkward those men had looked, and of the nonsense they had talked, and -of each one’s ridiculous anxiety to appropriate me to himself, I put -my hands up to my face and laughed. And then mamma’s and the girls’ -faces! their undignified attitudes of disgust, bewilderment, wonder! -Oh, dear me, how I did laugh! If they had heard me downstairs they -must have been convinced that my brain really was unhinged at last. -When I had finished laughing, it did not seem as though I had enjoyed -the joke enough. I jumped up, picked up the hem of my skirt, and -jigged about the room. I am big and clumsy, and I daresay I do not -dance well, but, just then, I danced to please myself. And I pleased -myself immensely. It was as though I had suddenly become inspired by -the conviction that I was the most delightful creature in the world. -It was absurd. I realised at the time it was absurd. But there was the -conviction, all the same. And if a girl cannot think well of herself -when she has bowled over five men, as if they were nine-pins, when can -she? I have known a four foot six woman carry herself as if she were -six foot four, merely because some whippersnapper of a boy has asked -her to dance twice in a single evening. -</p> - -<p> -Besides, I was not certain that my estimate of myself was so very -absurd. -</p> - -<p> -“All the money I have in the world,” I exclaimed aloud, “is -two-and-eightpence-halfpenny. I would like to bet every farthing of -it, that if a man—I don’t care what man, any man—saw me now he’d -fall head over heels in love with me at sight.” -</p> - -<p> -As I looked in the glass I felt convinced that my money would be -perfectly safe. I knew it—was sure of it, in fact. As I observed the -image which was mirrored there, something told me—I don’t pretend to -know what, but something did—that there was not a man breathing who -would not desire—with a pretty strong desire too—to stand well in -my—I will call them on this occasion only—fair eyes. It was a -singular feeling, the more so since it amounted to absolute -conviction. I am not conceited—my worst enemy has never called me -that. For one thing, I have never had anything to be conceited about. -But then I knew, knew! that no man could look at me without desiring -me. And in my time such numbers of men have looked at me only to wish -that I was at Jericho, or that they were. -</p> - -<p> -It did seem so odd. And it was a queer sensation. I felt as if I had -all at once become possessed of some strange, occult, man-compelling -power. And I believe I had. That unfinished sentence was still upon -the dressing-table. I picked it up, and looked at it, and wondered. -</p> - -<p> -Something about it caught my eye. Before, it had read, “You shall have -your wish u—,” and there had stopped. Since I saw it last an “n” had -been added; so that it now read, “You shall have your wish un—.” Was -the sentence still to be completed? If so, what form would it have in -its perfect state? -</p> - -<p> -What had I been wishing? That every man might fall in love with me at -sight? Well! was that the one which was to be granted? The -gratification of such a wish could hardly fail to provide one with -entertainment. And I had had so little entertainment in my time. Was I -the victim of hallucination? or the heroine of an up-to-date fairy -tale? It did not matter, so long as the hallucination was substantial -enough; or the fairy tale as amusing as this one bade fair to be. Let -me see: the baker’s boy, the shop-walker, the hairdresser, and these -five men. Unmistakably these persons had suddenly seen attractions in -me which they had not observed before. To bag eight men during a few -fleeting minutes of a single forenoon was not bad sport. And the -miscellaneous character of the bag was not the least satisfactory part -of it. If matters proceeded as they had begun, there could be no doubt -whatever that I should be provided with sufficient entertainment. -</p> - -<p> -In the meantime I must not forget that I was to dine with these five -gentlemen. It seemed to me to be rather a large order. I never had -dined with a gentleman except in company with members, feminine -members, of my own family. And now to be about to dine alone with -five! And such a five! -</p> - -<p> -“I cannot say, whatever may be their feelings towards me, that I am -the least bit in love with them.” That, to myself, I frankly admitted. -“As for Major Tibbet, he’s a person for whom I have no kind of use, -and never should have. Yet it seems that he is to be my principal -host, at least as far as the dinner is concerned. I should like to -know what he fancies he likes in me, since I dislike everything he -likes, himself included. Let’s hope that he won’t go on to the theatre -with us afterwards. The proceedings at the theatre bid fair to be -peculiar. Let me figure it out. Mr Carter has a box, and Mr Purchase -hopes to have one. I wonder what will happen if he finds that there -isn’t one to be had? Will they come to blows? or will they behave like -sensible beings, and agree to share a box—and me? That would -certainly be the more reasonable course to pursue. Though I quite -understand that when a man has a box all to himself, and a girl alone -in it, there are things which he can say with greater ease. I wonder -where Mr Hammond’s stall is, and Mr Rumford’s. It is devoutly to be -hoped that they are outside stalls, and that each is not the centre of -a different row. In that case it must be distinctly understood that -the transfer of me is to take place at the end of each act, because if -they attempt to haul me from one stall to another in the middle of a -scene, there’ll be a scene. Indeed, I think it’s probable there’ll be -a scene in any case. Because when the people see me being passed from -one man to another, and the four men who haven’t me glaring at the one -who has—and I’m afraid they will glare—they’ll begin to take an -interest in what is going on, so that the traffic of the stage may -suffer. I am convinced that I shall be sufficiently entertained.” -</p> - -<p> -A thought occurred to me, which would have occurred to a sensible girl -at the very first. But I am not a sensible girl, and in particular I -was very far from feeling sensible just then! So that it only came to -me at the tag end, as it were, and then with a sort of a kind of a -shock. -</p> - -<p> -“What shall I wear? There’s the black, and the white, and the blue; -and they none of them suit me, and they’re all of them old; and I -believe that each of them stands in need of repairs. So the outlook’s -promising. Now, if my fairy godmother were to clothe me all over with -sumptuous raiment, as she did Cinderella, in this the hour of my -triumph, that would be something like. I’d dazzle them, that I would. -But as that is not likely to happen, I shall have to consider in which -of the relics I call my evening gowns I look least beastly.” -</p> - -<p> -I spread all three out upon the bed. And I did not like the look of -either. In fact, I objected vigorously to them all. And I always had -done, that was the best of it. But until that moment I had not cared -much; and no one else had cared either; so it had not mattered. I -picked up the black and turned it round and round. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe black tones me down, and I have been told that I need a -deal of toning, so perhaps to put myself inside it would be -discretion. But the thing never has fitted me, the bodice holds my -arms down to my sides like a straight-waistcoat; I’ve torn the skirt -three times away from the gathers; it’s only clinging to them now with -the aid of a row of pins. So if anyone were to put his arms about -me,—which, of course, isn’t for a moment to be thought of—but I have -heard that things do happen! There might be a demand for sticking -plaster, which I could not possibly supply.” -</p> - -<p> -I put down the black, and took up the white. -</p> - -<p> -“The last time I wore this thing a man tore about three yards off the -back and never begged my pardon. It was white; but I think that the -moment has almost arrived to begin to call it cream, or écru, or, -perhaps coffee-coloured would be the more appropriate word. If it were -not that it is all in rags it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s a work of art -getting into it, and when I am in I am never sure how much of me is -out. In a dress of this sort you want to see both back and front. -You’re always haunted by the consciousness that other people can, -although you can’t. I’m afraid it mustn’t be the white; though I’m -almost sure it’s the one I hate the least.” -</p> - -<p> -I proceeded to examine the blue. -</p> - -<p> -“Blue suits nearly everyone, except this particular shade of blue, -which it is impossible to believe suits anyone. I know that when I am -in it I look my very worst, and that is saying such a deal. I believe -that that’s why mamma gave it to me. When there’s any article of -wearing apparel in the house which no one will touch with a pair of -tongs, it’s presented to me with a flourish, and I’m expected to be -grateful. They have such a primitive way of regarding the matter! ‘You -see,’ they say, ‘it’s of no consequence what you wear. You never look -well in anything. So what difference can it possibly make!’ If I were -to talk to them like that there’d be a clatter. To-night, at any rate, -I will not wear the blue.” -</p> - -<p> -I tossed it back upon the bed. -</p> - -<p> -“For the rest, I’ve a gorgeous pair of scarlet silk stockings, which -Lilian gave me once, in a fit of frantic generosity, because they were -miles and miles and miles too big for her. But I haven’t any shoes -which will go with them. I’ve one fairly decent petticoat, so long as -you don’t look at it too close. And I’ve a lovely set of undies, I -bought them myself with my very own money, because they looked so -scrumptious! which I have never dared to wear. I will wear them if for -this night only. I don’t think anything else is wanted, in particular. -Which is just as well. Because I’m sure I haven’t got it if it is. Oh -for that fairy godmother, and the most becoming things in the very -latest fashion! Hollo! I wonder if that is the lady?” -</p> - -<p> -The query was prompted by the fact that just then there was a smart -tapping at the door. -</p> - -<p> -“Who’s there?” -</p> - -<p> -It was not a fairy godmother; it was Jane, as was made clear by her -turning the handle and disclosing herself in the doorway. -</p> - -<p> -“If you please, miss, can I be of any use to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Any use to me? What do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Miss Norah, I heard that you was going out with them gentlemen; -so I thought that perhaps you might like me to help you to dress.” -</p> - -<p> -I stared. I was unused to the ministrations of a maid, and had -certainly not expected an offer of the kind from Jane, who was not in -good odour with the heads of the family. Indeed, mamma was only -keeping her on, because, under present circumstances, if she did go, -we should be servantless. -</p> - -<p> -“How did you know that I was going out?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, miss, you was all of you talking so loud, and the drawing-room -door wide open, so that I couldn’t hardly help but hear. If you -wouldn’t mind, I should like helping you, Miss Norah. If you’ll excuse -my saying so, you never do seem to make the best of yourself somehow. -In my last place there was two young ladies, and I used to help them -often.” -</p> - -<p> -Jane had a free and easy way of speaking which suggested that in some -of the places she had been in the servants had been permitted -liberties. But I had a feeling that she was not a bad sort in her way. -And then so few people ever do offer to do anything for me, that when -anyone does I find it nearly impossible to refuse to let them. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Jane, I don’t see how you can be of use to me. I’ve only a -lot of old things to wear, which I’ve worn dozens and dozens of times -before, and anyone could put them on blindfold.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, Miss Norah, but that’s just where you’re mistaken, as, if -you’ll allow me, I very soon will show you. There’s a way of putting -on even old things which will almost make people think that you’ve -never had them on before. Your sisters, now, work wonders. They can -make the same thing look as if it was twenty. I’m sure that I’ve often -thought to myself that if they ever was to turn lady’s maids to a lady -as wanted to make a large show on a little money, they’d be worth any -amount, they would. I’ve never know anyone who made one dress to -behave as if it was half-a-dozen, like they can.” -</p> - -<p> -I was not sure that I relished her manner of expressing herself. And -when I recalled the spectacle she had herself presented on certain -occasions when I had witnessed her sallying forth on her Sundays out, -I was inclined to be more than dubious as to her capacity to make the -best of me. Yet she seemed, too, so anxious to be of service, and so -convinced that I should find her assistance of the greatest value, -that I had not the heart to send her packing. -</p> - -<p> -Though I am nearly confident that I should have been wiser if I had. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch13"> -CHAPTER XIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">JANE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Jane’s</span> remarks, as she turned my wardrobe over and over, commenting -on it critically as she did so, made it almost as clear as possible -that in accepting her assistance I had been guilty of an indiscretion. -Considering the position in which she was supposed to stand towards me -there was a frankness about her which I felt was unbecoming. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you haven’t got much to wear, and that’s a fact, look at it how -you may; and what you have got I’ve seen you in till I should think -you was sick of the sight; not that they amounted to anything, even -when they was new.” -</p> - -<p> -As I was about to point out, with some severity, that observations of -that kind were not likely to assist me to any material extent, she -branched off at a tangent. -</p> - -<p> -“I was never out with five gentlemen all at once, not myself I wasn’t. -The most I was ever out with was three; and as two of them started -fighting before we’d gone very far you couldn’t hardly call that a -success. They knocked each other about something cruel—at least, so I -was given to understand. So far as I was concerned, I never so much as -spoke to them again. Because I always have held, and always shall -hold, that when two gentlemen start fighting about a lady out in the -open street, right before her very eyes, as it were, they aren’t -gentlemen—no, and never won’t be neither.” -</p> - -<p> -Though open to admit that her sentiments might do her credit, I could -not perceive their application to the subject in hand. As I was about -to drop a hint to that effect, she returned, with a frankness which I -again found slightly embarrassing, to the subject of clothes. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, about underneath. I hold that’s it’s no good having a smart gown -on if there’s nothing but rags inside. When a party lifts a scarlet -satin skirt to show a torn petticoat, and, perhaps, an odd pair of -stockings what’s all holes, she might fancy herself, but I never -should. I say if it must be a torn petticoat, put it on outside, and -the satin skirt underneath, it would be less deceiving. Now, miss, -what was you thinking of wearing?” -</p> - -<p> -Jane had not a delicate touch. She framed her inquiries with a -directness which was a little appalling. I explained—to her -satisfaction. She was even pleased to be enthusiastic. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, if you could only wear them outside, and them wretched, shabby -old dresses underneath, that would be something like. It’s a pity, -miss, you can’t. Things like them is not meant to be hidden. About -them scarlet stockings. As it just happens, I’ve got a pair of scarlet -shoes. They was given me by a lady friend for whom they was too large, -and they’re a bit too big for me. But they’re about the shade; and I -should think, with a little management, they might fit you.” -</p> - -<p> -Some persons might resent such a remark as that. It did not sound -complimentary. But I am too well aware that I am, in all respects, -beyond the ordinary size of a woman, to be much affected by allusions -to the fact. What I did not relish was the notion of getting into -shoes which had been transferred from that lady friend to Jane. I -wondered dimly what mamma and the girls would say, if it ever came to -their ears that such a suggestion had been made. But Jane would listen -to nothing. She seemed to have made up her mind to see me through—and -see me through she would. Off she went to get those shoes. -</p> - -<p> -So soon as she was gone I meditated a plan for preventing her return. -I did not want her shoes, and I did not want her assistance either. I -was beginning to be fearful that I should be a bigger fright with her -aid than without it. Had there been a key in the door, it would have -been easy. But there was not. My bedroom lacked a good many things, -one of them being a means of securing it against intruders. It was at -the top of the house, right away from the others, on the same floor as -the servants’; so that Jane had but to slip through my door, and -across to hers. -</p> - -<p> -I did think of putting my foot against the door, and keeping her out -like that; but it would have been a brusque method of proceeding, and -might have hurt her feelings. After all, she meant well; and, as I -have said, so few people ever did mean well towards me, that I found -it exceedingly difficult to thwart them when the mood was on them. -</p> - -<p> -Some minutes elapsed before Jane returned. When she did, I was really -not in a condition of costume to offer effective resistance of any -kind. Time was passing. Mr Hammond had emphasised his request that I -would not keep them waiting, but that I would be ready at a quarter to -seven; so I was beginning to make as much haste as I could. Besides, I -had a sort of feeling that it might be just as well to get through, at -least, the initiatory stages, before Jane appeared; her observations -did lean so strongly towards the side of candour. -</p> - -<p> -When she entered I was conscious of what I believe people call a -qualm, though just what kind of qualm it was, I am not prepared to -positively assert. She had not only in her hands a pair of scarlet -shoes, but her arms were heaped up with what I had an intuitive -perception were assorted specimens of her wardrobe. Did she propose to -array me in her splendours? Was I to sally forth with five gentlemen -to dinner in Jane’s attire? Were her clothes to flit from seat to seat -in the Gaiety Theatre? Did she suppose that any of them would fit me; -I was a head taller than she was? Her figure was what I should have -described as weedy; I daresay she considered it elegant. My chest was -as broad as a grenadier’s—horribly broad! Were not mamma and the -girls intimately acquainted with nearly every article of clothing I -possessed? Would they not instantly detect upon me the presence of an -unaccustomed thing? Would not inquiries be promptly instituted as to -where I got it from? Could I answer—Jane? -</p> - -<p> -That she was totally without suspicion that such questions could be -chasing each other through my bosom, her observations quickly showed. -</p> - -<p> -“I think that, between us, miss, we shall make you look something -like.” -</p> - -<p> -I had no doubt of that whatever; it was that which racked me. -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t often that you do go out with five gentlemen, all at once, -nor anyone else, for the matter of that; so that when you do go, it’s -just as well that them five gentlemen should know that they’ve got -someone with ’em as everyone was looking at.” -</p> - -<p> -I was not so sure of that, by any means. Momentarily it was becoming -clearer that Jane’s point of view was scarcely mine. -</p> - -<p> -“A gentleman friend of mine, he likes colour—pink especial. He’d like -to see me pink from head to foot, winter and summer, though for winter -it always seems to me to be a trifle cool. I got that hat to suit him. -Now, that’s what I call striking!” She held out the article in front -of her. “If you try it on, you’ll find it’ll stand out on you. You try -it on, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -I try it on!—Jane’s hat!—That hat! A shiver went all over me, which -was not caused by my being at the moment lightly clad. Fortunately, I -was not compelled to go to quite those limits, there was a loophole -for escape. -</p> - -<p> -“You forget, Jane, that I shall not wear a hat, so I’m afraid it will -be no use for me to try it on, especially as time is getting short. -Though it’s awfully good of you to suggest it; I’m sure that in that -hat I should look striking.” -</p> - -<p> -I was sure. It was a pink silk article, of the picture variety, with a -big brilliant pink bow ornamenting it in front, and a huge pink -feather running round it, and then drooping over the side. If I went -out with that on my head, even the omnibus drivers would make remarks. -</p> - -<p> -Jane seemed to regret my unwillingness to try it on. Possibly, my -disinclination to avail myself of her offer did not synchronise with -her notions of feminine human nature. -</p> - -<p> -“I was forgetting, miss, as how you could not wear a hat. It seems a -pity. I suppose it couldn’t be managed.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am afraid not. You see, I could hardly wear it at dinner; and if I -did, they wouldn’t let me into the theatre with it afterwards.” -</p> - -<p> -She laid that nightmare in bilious pink on one side, with a sigh. -</p> - -<p> -“It do seem a pity, it really do! In that hat you’d be noticeable if -you was with fifty gentlemen, let alone with five.” -</p> - -<p> -I was convinced of it. I told her so. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s tremendously nice of you to wish to eke out my odds and ends -with your lovely things, Jane; but all the same I know I shouldn’t do -justice to them, and I think I’d better stick to what is my own.” -</p> - -<p> -“And that’s where you’re wrong, miss—begging your pardon for saying -so. Now, there’s a tri-coloured sash. I got it when there was them -patriotic goings on, me having a cousin in the militia what got -invalided home owing to his drinking habits. That’s something like a -sash, that is. You wear it over your shoulder like them Oddfellows—I -had a uncle what was one till he got three months for knocking his -wife about. After that he joined the Salvation Army for a change—and -then you tie it round your waist, and let it hang. It’s a foot wide, -and there’s seven yards of it, so there’s plenty for hanging. It would -show off one of them shabby old dresses of yours, that it would.” -</p> - -<p> -I realise the truth of this. Still—it was so very showy. The red hit -you in the eye, the blue was another case of the wrong shade, the -white, one could but hope, had seen whiter days. I could not see my -way to imitating the Oddfellows and letting it hang. I broke it to her -as gently as I was able. -</p> - -<p> -“It is showy. Certainly no one could help noticing me if I did have it -on.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d defy ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“So would I. But I’m thinking of wearing my black; and, do you know, -Jane, I’m inclined to believe that the less colour I wear the better.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe in colour; it lights you up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; it lights you up, but it would make me flare. You see, you have -such a much more delicate figure than I have.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have been told that I’ve a delicate figure, and it’s no use my -denying it. Still, I say this of colour—for everyone—it makes ’em -stand out.” -</p> - -<p> -“It does. You’re quite right. Especially a red, white, and blue sash. -There’s not a doubt of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what I say is, a woman wants to stand out, unless she’s a mere -worm, and goodness knows that I’m no worm. The more she stands out the -more she’s noticed—and, if she’s any opinion of herself, as she ought -to have, notice is what she wants. Now here is something tasty—and -full dress. That’s a opera cloak, that is, green silk with yellow -stripes. That’s beaver trimming round the edges—real beaver. It’s a -bit rusty here and there, but nothing to signify. I call it handsome. -It was left to me by an aunt what died. She went about a good deal in -society; her husband being a scene painter, and getting her orders for -the theatre constant. Nights together she’d sit in the middle of the -front row of the stalls in that very cloak, especially when business -was a bit slack and they wanted the theatre to seem crowded as it -were. Because, as I’ve been given to understand, people what pays -won’t go to the theatre unless you can make ’em believe that they -can’t get in. My aunt got to be known by that cloak. ‘The lady with -the green silk opera-cloak with yellow stripes and beaver trimming’ -they used to speak of her as. I’ve only worn it myself two or three -times, to dances and such like. Now it would set you off, that would. -It’s a little short, perhaps, for you; but I’m told that they’re -wearing them short just now.” -</p> - -<p> -It would scarcely have covered my shoulders; but there was a good deal -too much of it, for all that. -</p> - -<p> -“Are they? You evidently are better posted in the fashions, Jane, than -I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“I take in two fashion-books myself—leastways, there are fashions in -them—and see seven.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you? That explains it. It’s a wonderful cloak; but I have a cloak -of my own, though it isn’t much of a one, and I really think I ought -to wear it.” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s no ought about it, if you’ll excuse my saying so. You can -wear my opera cloak, if you like, miss, and welcome.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re very, very good, Jane. Suppose we wait till I have finished -dressing, and then see how it goes.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, miss; as you please. But there’s one thing you’ll have to -wear, and that’s those scarlet shoes. You told me yourself that you’d -a pair of scarlet stockings, but no shoes to match ’em; so, as far as -wearing these goes, it’s a case of have to.” -</p> - -<p> -Apparently it was. The scarlet shoes in question never had been of -first-rate quality, and they were not exactly new. It seemed as if the -“lady friend” had given them a fair trial before handing them on to -Jane. But they were still presentable, and, plainly, in Jane’s -opinion, beyond the possibility of reproach. I had refused her hat, -her sash, her cloak. I had not the heart to add her shoes to the list -of my refusals,—at any rate, without giving them a trial. And it was -soon made clear that Jane’s ideas on the subject of a trial were -thorough. I got into the stockings, but getting into the shoes was -quite a different thing. She pushed, and I pushed; but the scarlet -shoes continued to show reluctance to make the acquaintance of my -feet. As usual, she commented on the fact in her somewhat painfully -plain-spoken fashion. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Miss Norah, you’ve got a man’s foot—you really have. Reminds -me of a cousin of mine who always used to have his boots made -specially for him, all on account of their saying that it took two -pairs of anybody else’s boots to make him one. Used to work on a farm, -he did, which, I have been told, causes the feet to spread.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t believe, Jane, it is that which has extended mine!” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s sure and certain something must have; because never before did I -see so large a foot upon a lady’s leg, except my grandmother, what -went off with dropsy, so that, when she died, her feet was like -pumpkins. But these shoes have got to go on somehow, or else I’ll know -the reason why.” -</p> - -<p> -It was not necessary for her to institute any inquiry into recondite -causes—the shoes went on. With difficulty, it is true, but still they -went. And being on, they proved to be not so tight as they might have -been—that is, considering. When I think of some of the shoes into -which my feet have been compressed, Jane’s might have been regarded as -almost loose. She regarded the fruits of her labours with an air of -triumph. -</p> - -<p> -“No mistake, you do fill them.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do. It has been my unfortunate experience, on several occasions, to -have filled my shoes a little too completely.” -</p> - -<p> -“Can you walk in them?” -</p> - -<p> -I stood up to try. I found that I could, at present. Whether, after -having worn them for an hour or two, locomotion might not become more -difficult, was another story altogether. -</p> - -<p> -“I shouldn’t care to do a ten-mile tramp in them; but I think I can -manage to do all the walking that’s likely to be required.” -</p> - -<p> -If the principal pedestrian exercise which I was likely to have to -undergo consisted in passing from seat to seat at the Gaiety Theatre, -I ought to be equal to that. Having once succeeded in getting me into -her shoes, Jane became positively laudatory. -</p> - -<p> -“They look a fair treat—they do that; what with the stockings and the -shoes together. They’re such a perfect match; you couldn’t have -matched ’em better, not if you’d gone to a shop to do it.” That was -true enough. “And you’re well-shaped, even if you are an extra size.” -</p> - -<p> -That also, from the bottom of my heart, I believed to be true; and, in -my moments of most extreme despondency, I was wont to hug the -conviction to my bosom. My feet might be large, but then I was large -all over; they were not disproportionate; and I am almost convinced -that, as Jane put it, they were well-shaped. Indeed, I will go -further, and express my opinion that generally I am well-shaped. My -limbs are as well moulded as any girl’s need be. I do not see why it -should be such a tremendous drawback because the mould happened to be -a little bit Titanic. -</p> - -<p> -I bent down—I had to bend some distance—and I kissed Jane. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re tremendously good to me, and I thank you awfully for lending -me these very pretty shoes.” -</p> - -<p> -To my amazement, she burst out crying! -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch14"> -CHAPTER XIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A QUARTER TO SEVEN</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">At</span> a quarter to seven we were still in what I should describe as the -throes. I daresay that sentence is not perfect English, but it is -exactly what I mean; and, so long as you have that, what does it -matter? -</p> - -<p> -Jane had made such a mess of her crying, and I had found it so -difficult to make out what the ridiculous creature was crying about; -but it seemed that her young man had spoken to her with freezing -coldness that very afternoon, and that, combined with the excitement -of the discovery that, as she phrased it, I had put mamma’s and the -girls’ noses “out of joint,” by walking off with their five young -men—though you could hardly describe Major Tibbet as young—and the -agitation occasioned her by my kissing her all of a sudden, had -brought her to such a stage that she had to do it. So she did it, -although, with all my heart, I wish she hadn’t. -</p> - -<p> -Her tears, and my efforts to understand their why and their wherefore, -confused things dreadfully. Some of my things we got on inside out and -some we did not get on at all. When we came to my hair, it was awful. -We spent about twenty minutes in getting it into a mess, and -half-an-hour in getting it out; Jane’s ideas on the subject of -hairdressing were so original, and, when it came to the point, quite -impracticable. At last, when it seemed to me that it must nearly all -have been torn out by the roots, and my scalp was sore all over, we -were confronted by the fact that we had about two seconds in which to -make a satisfactory job of it. -</p> - -<p> -So then I took it in hand myself. I had had enough of Jane. I just -gave it a twirl and a twist, and jabbed six hairpins into it, and it -had to do. Jane’s opinion of the result was not enthusiastic. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, miss, I can’t say I think much of it—that I can’t. Looks as if -you’d tried to make as little of it as you possibly could. In fact, -you’ve screwed it that tight, it seems as if you hadn’t hardly any -hair at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“When one comes to think of the handfuls you’ve pulled out, Jane——” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah! I have not pulled out handfuls! It’s not fair to talk -like that—that it’s not.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then half-handfuls, if you prefer it, Jane. Just look at that heap of -hair upon my dressing-table; quite recently it was all upon my head.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure, miss, I’m very sorry. I never thought you’d take it like -this. I didn’t mean——” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right, Jane. What do a few hairs, more or less, matter? -For goodness’ sake, don’t start crying again. Help me on with my -bodice; and don’t try to induce me to put my right arm into the left -sleeve.” -</p> - -<p> -As I have said, at a quarter to seven, we were still in the throes. It -was a few seconds before that time when there came a loud rat-tat at -the hall door. I quite jumped. -</p> - -<p> -“There they are!” I cried; “and I’m not ready!” -</p> - -<p> -“That you certainly are not, miss; nor nearly.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know about nearly. I only have to be done up this side, and -put something round my neck, and get my gloves on; and then I shall be -ready.” -</p> - -<p> -Jane surveyed me through her tear-dimmed eyes, screwing up her lips in -a way she had. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, miss, there’s ready and there’s ready. If I was going out to -dine with five gentlemen, I shouldn’t think that I was nearly ready; -not by a good deal, I shouldn’t. To me, considering, it don’t seem as -if you had hardly got anything on.” -</p> - -<p> -There came some more hammering at the door; apparently those gentlemen -were impatient. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no good talking like that now. You must go down and let them in. -I shall have to manage.” -</p> - -<p> -Jane’s manner was a mixture of resignation and acidity. -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, miss; as you please, miss. I’m sure I’ve done my best; I -couldn’t do no more.” -</p> - -<p> -I felt convinced of it as she retired. Indeed, I had rather she had -done less. Scarcely had she disappeared than Audrey entered. I stared, -expecting that she was going to favour me with a few candid -criticisms. But no one could have been nicer. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, child”—considering our relative sizes, the way in which they -will persist in calling me child, is grotesque—“are you dressed for -the great occasion? So Jane has been giving you the benefit of her -assistance.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a smile on her face which made me feel for Jane. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s very good of her. She doesn’t seem to have much idea. She -doesn’t pretend to be a lady’s maid; but she’s done her best.” -</p> - -<p> -In a comprehensive sort of way, Audrey looked me up and down. I felt -as if every one of my weak points was hitting her in the face. -</p> - -<p> -“Candidly, Norah, you are a difficult child to dress. The mode and you -will ever be at variance. You must have a mode of your own. You are -like Michael Angelo’s statues—on the grand lines.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know why you need laugh at me. I can’t help it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not laughing. On the contrary, I’m not sure that if you were -clothed, as you might be, that you wouldn’t be splendid.” -</p> - -<p> -“Audrey!” -</p> - -<p> -“But that is not an ideal dress for you; and you don’t seem as if you -knew how to get into it, if it were. Come down to my room; let me add -a touch or two to Jane’s.” -</p> - -<p> -At that moment Jane returned. -</p> - -<p> -“If you please, miss, them five gentlemen have come for you; and Mr -Hammond’s compliments, and he hopes that you won’t keep them waiting.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey looked at her quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Did Mr Hammond send that message?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, miss; them was his own words.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey turned to me, with a laugh that was half in earnest. -</p> - -<p> -“If I were you, Norah, I should return a message to Mr Hammond to the -effect that he need not wait.” -</p> - -<p> -I hesitated, then spoke: -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Jane; there is no message.” -</p> - -<p> -When we got into Audrey’s room—she was awfully particular about -keeping it all to herself, scarcely letting me inside it twice a -year—I thought, as I always did, how pretty it was, especially -compared to mine—she said something which took me aback. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, I want to ask you a favour.” I stared at her askance. “Don’t -suffer these gentlemen to be impertinent.” -</p> - -<p> -“As if I should! Do you think they’d dare?” -</p> - -<p> -“Child, don’t blaze. I don’t know what has got into men’s heads to -make them mad; but I wouldn’t allow them to act as if you took their -madness for granted. That message of Mr Hammond’s was not a very -pretty one.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will make him smart for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do. A little smarting does some men much good.” -</p> - -<p> -Her slender fingers, moving about me here and there, worked wonders -with my appearance. She lent me ribbons, laces, those odds and ends -which a girl must have if she wants to be finished properly. And they -were just the proper odds and ends, the delicate trifles which cost -such lots of money. As I saw her handiwork in the looking-glass, I -perceived that she was making me quite presentable. -</p> - -<p> -“I should like to take down your hair and do it all over again; but -I’m afraid there isn’t time.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure there isn’t. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, you’re inexperienced. Don’t allow yourself to be influenced -by any consideration of that kind; especially after the message which -Mr Hammond permitted himself to request Jane to deliver. With some -men, the worse you treat them, the better they treat you. ‘’Tis true, -’tis pity; but pity ’tis, ’tis true.’ By the way, these gentlemen seem -violently drawn towards you; are you equally drawn towards them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not I.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not towards any one of them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not towards any one of them. Shall I tell you what I think of them? I -think——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ssh! I don’t think that, perhaps, you had better tell me what you -think. It might be over—candid.” She smiled up at me in a way which -made her look a perfect dream of loveliness. “Besides—they’re not -all—ganders.” -</p> - -<p> -“Basil Carter isn’t—at least, I never should have guessed it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nor I. It’s rather odd that we should be of the same mind upon that -subject. There, now you look a little better; though, I tell you -again, that you’re a difficult child to dress. Yet it might be worth -one’s while to fashion for you a mode of your own. You are so—very -splendid.” -</p> - -<p> -“Audrey, I do wish that you wouldn’t laugh at me!” -</p> - -<p> -“I repeat that I am not laughing. I don’t know, Norah O’Brady, if you -are aware how excellent an opportunity you are about to have to show -how badly you can behave. One girl—five men, each of them wishing the -others were in Heaven. What a chance you’ll have of trampling on what -they flatter themselves are their tenderest feelings. If you’re a -sister of mine, trample on them, Norah, an you love me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll try.” -</p> - -<p> -“At least, do try. Let me whisper in your ear. Above all, -trample—with your heaviest tramp—on Basil Carter—not only on his -feelings, but, if opportunity offers, on his very self. I’m much -afraid that he’s the biggest gander of them all—and, Norah, I didn’t -think so once.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch15"> -CHAPTER XV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">TRAMPLING UPON FIVE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I cannot</span> truthfully say that I felt exactly proud of myself as I -marched down to the drawing-room. I met Eveleen coming up as I went -down, and she looked flurried; then I met Lilian, and she looked more -flurried still; and, lastly, at the foot of the stairs, mamma. -Something told me that all three of them had been in the drawing-room -to try to bring those men to a consciousness of shame. There was that -in their bearing which hinted that they had not succeeded. Eveleen -suggested a desire to shake me; Lilian an inclination to bite my nose -off; and as for mamma, she received me in a state of fluster which -spoke volumes. -</p> - -<p> -“You understand, Norah, that I have forbidden you to disgrace me, and -I forbid you again!” -</p> - -<p> -I was just in a mood to melt, and had mamma adopted another tone, or -even appealed to me to leave her Major Tibbet, I am nearly sure I -should have melted. But when she spoke to me like that, of course, -needles came out all over me, and I smiled as sweetly as I knew how. -</p> - -<p> -“Disgrace you, mamma? Why it was not necessary to forbid me to do -that. I am sure you have brought me up too carefully to think it.” -</p> - -<p> -Somehow my soft answer did not seem to turn away mamma’s wrath. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be impertinent, miss! I command you to go into that room and -dismiss those men!” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly, mamma; if you will come with me.” -</p> - -<p> -She wavered, apparently she had just gone through a little passage in -which she had been worsted. -</p> - -<p> -“I will come with you, but no nonsense, mind; without any unnecessary -words you will dismiss them at once and finally.” -</p> - -<p> -I was just about to open the drawing-room door for mamma to enter, -when Audrey came flying down the staircase. It certainly did seem, -judging by the very first words she uttered, that she had been -listening over the banisters. -</p> - -<p> -“Norah, stop! Mamma, don’t be unreasonable. Let her go!” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma stared. “Let her go! Alone! With those five men! After the way -in which they have behaved! Audrey, are you mad?” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, mamma, to hear you talk one would think that none of us had -ever been out with gentlemen alone. What harm will they do her? She’ll -be as safe with them as she would with you. I’m sure they can be -trusted. As the child says, she hasn’t had much fun; let her enjoy the -streak that’s come her way. Now, Norah, in you go, and remember what I -told you, trample on them for all you’re worth! And have a really good -time, my dear! And, mamma, you come upstairs with me.” -</p> - -<p> -She pulled me down to her, and kissed me. We were not a kissing -family—most emphatically not among ourselves! And to be kissed by -Audrey, at such a moment! It had almost the same effect on me which -mine had on Jane; only fortunately I had more sense than she had, and -could exercise some self-control. -</p> - -<p> -Mamma went up the stairs with Audrey, as meek as a lamb—everybody -gives in to Audrey—and I went into the drawing-room, conscious of a -strong, and most unwonted disposition to be peacocky. -</p> - -<p> -They rushed at me the moment I showed my nose inside the door—all -five. -</p> - -<p> -“You have kept us waiting,” began Mr Hammond. “I said at a quarter-to, -sharp!” -</p> - -<p> -“And with dinner ordered punctually at seven,” went on the Major. “And -with fish which will resent an instant’s delay.” -</p> - -<p> -I resolved to put a stop to that sort of thing at once. I waved them -back with Audrey’s fan—she had lent me a beautiful black one, real -lace. I felt equal to five thousand men at least, and quite capable of -acting on the hint which she had dropped. -</p> - -<p> -“Please don’t come so close. I don’t like being crowded.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond proceeded to push the others back with his huge arms. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, you fellows, you annoy Miss Norah!” -</p> - -<p> -I caught his eye, and held it, in a fashion which, I fancy, caused him -some slight embarrassment. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Hammond, you sent me a message by the maid.” -</p> - -<p> -“A message? Really? Me? I may have done.” -</p> - -<p> -“You expressed a desire that I should not keep you waiting. I do not -wish to do so. Please don’t wait.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah!—I—I don’t understand.” -</p> - -<p> -“I say, please don’t wait. Shall I ask Mr Carter to ring for the maid -to open the door?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah!” -</p> - -<p> -His jaw dropped open. He displayed such unmistakeable signs of -confusion, as well as contrition, that I proceeded to forgive him, in -my own way. -</p> - -<p> -“I am not accustomed to being requested by gentlemen not to keep them -waiting. Those whose acquaintance I care to have are only too glad to -consider my convenience, they never dream of expecting me to consider -theirs.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a dreadful story. And a horrid thing to say as well. But -Audrey’s words were in my ears, I was bent on trampling. I had been -trampled on so long. -</p> - -<p> -“So, if for any reason whatever you feel disposed to ask me to -consider your convenience, pray say so at once, and Mr Carter will -ring for the maid to open the door.” -</p> - -<p> -Never was man more profusely apologetic. To see him cringing—it -really amounted to cringing—was a novel sensation for me. Never had a -man apologised to me before—at least, to the best of my recollection -and belief. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sure, Miss Norah, I beg ten thousand pardons. Nothing further -from my mind than to consider myself, in any way; only too proud and -happy to be allowed to consider you; quite a mistake if anything can -have induced you to suppose the contrary. Fact is, I was thinking of -the Major’s dinner.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Major’s dinner? What about the Major’s dinner?” -</p> - -<p> -“He ordered it at seven.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did he? And how does that interest you?” -</p> - -<p> -“It doesn’t—not at all!—not in the slightest!—not in the very least -degree!—do assure you! Might I—might I venture to hope, Miss Norah, -that you—you—you’ll do me the honour of accepting these few -flowers?” -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon they all came crowding round me again, each with a floral -offering. -</p> - -<p> -“Did I not ask you not to come too close? I do not care to be -conscious of another person’s proximity.” They slunk back, like dogs -before a whip. “I see, Mr Hammond, that you have camellias. I don’t -like camellias. I think they’re vulgar. You might put them on the -table. Nor do I care for stephanotis, I am obliged to you, Major -Tibbet. Thank you, Mr Rumford, I have had some roses given me this -afternoon, already. You might put them with the other flowers on the -table. You are very good, Mr Purchase, but obviously Parma violets do -not go with black. They suggest mourning. You can hardly wish me to go -into mourning at the prospect of spending part of an evening with you. -I am not sure, Mr Carter, that I care for lilies-of-the-valley either. -They are not quite so bad as camellias, but they are a little wooden. -Don’t you think so? Stay! Let me look at them. After all, they do go -with black. Perhaps I will wear them, since there is nothing else to -wear.” -</p> - -<p> -Even in my then mood it did seem incredible that they should endure my -impertinence—worse, my ingratitude—and never show a sign of -resentment. But something seemed to tell me that I might say and do -exactly what I pleased, and they would still crouch at my feet, ready -to endure anything rather than that I should not notice them at all. I -was beginning, already, to understand what it is which makes a woman -love the sense of power, the consciousness of being able to do as she -likes with men. As is the case, I have heard, with some beggars on -horseback, I was disposed to ride my steed for all it was worth, with -cruel and scandalous disregard of the possibility of the poor brute’s -breaking down upon the road. -</p> - -<p> -Pulling Mr Carter’s carefully-arranged little nosegay to pieces I -tossed some of the lilies aside and pinned the rest against my -bodice—the five watching me with a queer sort of speechlessness, -which nearly moved me to laughter. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, let me understand what the programme is for this evening. Aren’t -we to have some dinner?” -</p> - -<p> -Major Tibbet held both hands out in front of him as he replied: -</p> - -<p> -“I have ordered dinner at the King’s Restaurant—a sumptuous dinner, -Miss Norah—at seven—exactly! It is already a quarter past—it will -be spoilt!” -</p> - -<p> -“Will it? Then we will dine elsewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dine elsewhere?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly. Where we are not likely to encounter black looks, and -excuses, because we choose to be a little late.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—I shall have to pay in any case.” -</p> - -<p> -“Shall you? Mr Rumford, where do you propose that we shall dine?” -</p> - -<p> -He displayed a feeling for his fellow of which I chose to show myself -incapable. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Miss Norah, I gathered that the Major had arranged to dine at -the King’s.” -</p> - -<p> -“At seven. But we can’t eat a seven-o’clock dinner at half-past; we -want to have something fit to eat. Have you nothing, Mr Hammond, to -suggest?” -</p> - -<p> -“I suggest, Miss Norah, what you suggest—absolutely. Entirely in your -hands—only too delighted.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you, Mr Purchase, what do you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“I would remind you, Miss Norah, that you accepted Major Tibbet’s -invitation to dine at the King’s.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed! When you are a little older, Mr Purchase, you will learn that -women sometimes change their minds.” He was about ten years older than -I was, and had perhaps had ten times as much experience; but those -were trifles light as air. “Are you void of ideas, Mr Carter?” -</p> - -<p> -“You must dine at the King’s Restaurant, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“Must? You use rather an odd word. Must?” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps I had better have said that you will dine at the King’s -Restaurant, Miss Norah. Having made an engagement, a lady keeps it.” -</p> - -<p> -After the way in which he—indeed, in which they all—had behaved, the -idea of his talking to me like that was good. Taking no notice of him, -whatever, I crossed to Mr Hammond. -</p> - -<p> -“You appear to be the most agreeable and obliging person present. Will -you give me some dinner at Dupont’s? I never have dined at Dupont’s, -but have often thought that I should like to.” -</p> - -<p> -“Too charmed—only too charmed!” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you so much. These gentlemen can dine with Major Tibbet at the -King’s, where we’ll hope that they’ll enjoy their meal.” -</p> - -<p> -I took the arm which Mr Hammond offered, and the others came rushing -to the front. Mr Carter, in particular, was most eloquent. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, what have we done that you should desert us? You promised -that you would be our guest—our co-guest.” -</p> - -<p> -I put into my voice and words as much impertinence as I possibly -could. -</p> - -<p> -“I like your manners so little that I really cannot fancy you as one -of my hosts, Mr Carter.” -</p> - -<p> -“I only ventured to remind you that you had accepted——” -</p> - -<p> -“No excuses, or explanations; I dislike both. If I consent to still -suffer you near me, please understand that to-night I am above the -law. My whims are to be paramount; my most transitory wish your chief -desire. I may change my mind a hundred times; each time you’re at once -to change yours too. Nor are you to so much as hint that I was ever in -another mind. It does not follow because I tell Mr Hammond that I’ll -dine with him at Dupont’s that I will—or that I’ll dine at all. In -five minutes I may be in fifty moods. If you desire to question any -one of them, please do not inflict your company on me. It is not the -manner which I care for in a host of mine. Mr Hammond, at the present -moment I am disposed to dine with you at Dupont’s. If these gentlemen -choose, and know how to behave, it may be that they can dine there -too.” -</p> - -<p> -I went out of the room on Mr Hammond’s arm. The others came after us, -with faces which were a little black. It was just possible that Major -Tibbet was thinking of the bill which he would have to pay for the -uneaten dinner at the King’s Restaurant. I have heard that for quite -ordinary repasts their charges were enormous. Under the circumstances -it could not have been pleasant for him to reflect that he had -commanded them to do their very best. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch16"> -CHAPTER XVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE DINNER WHICH FAILED</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was rather a shock to discover that I was expected to travel with -those five men in an omnibus. It was one of the private sort, and -there were two men in livery; but it was an omnibus. I quite started -when I got outside the front-door and saw it there. -</p> - -<p> -“Dear me!” I exclaimed. “Am I supposed to ride in an omnibus? I can’t -bear omnibuses.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond was inclined to stammer. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s—it’s—it’s a private omnibus.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it? How interesting. Am I intended to consider that fact -interesting? Was I expected to take it for granted that I should be -required to ride in a public omnibus, among the penny fares?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond was inclined to stammer still more. -</p> - -<p> -“Fact is, six rather awkward number—never heard of a carriage that -would hold them all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Two might have gone on the box, or even three. Then there is such a -thing as a coach. A coach holds six.” -</p> - -<p> -“Coach and four?” -</p> - -<p> -“Or even a coach and three, if four was considered extravagant.” -</p> - -<p> -“Idea of coaching to dinner in town never struck me. Don’t know why. -Sporting notion—very. Afraid it would take some time to get one now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Since you were so careless as not to have one ready, I cannot -possibly wait while you repair your negligence. I must endeavour to -make the best of your private omnibus.” -</p> - -<p> -It is some distance from Kensington to Dupont’s Restaurant—which is, -of course, in Regent Street—so that it took some time to drive. I do -not know what kind of thing those five men had been looking forward -to, but it was some satisfaction to feel that I was making each one of -them about as uncomfortable as he could be made. I was in a pretty -mood—I really was. It was amazing that they did not get out in a -body, and leave me to occupy that omnibus all by myself. I had heard -of what men will endure from some women. I had an object-lesson then. -I knew, somehow, that it made no difference how I treated them. They -would still be my humble, obedient, devoted slaves. When a girl has -that feeling, for the very first time, it is a little tempting. -</p> - -<p> -I decided that they were not a bad good-looking crowd. No girl need be -ashamed of being seen with them. Mr Carter and Mr Purchase were -distinctly handsome—though they were looking glum. Walter Hammond was -not so bad, though he was lanky. As he would himself have phrased it, -there was a sporting something about him of the right sort. Then his -clothes fitted him as mine never would fit me; and when he had his -eyeglass in his eye he looked quite striking. Mr Rumford was a trifle -puffy, and he suggested trade—though nothing quite so bad as Aunt -Jane’s Jalap. But then he was so plainly redolent of money that he -passed muster. And then Major Tibbet was obviously someone—if only -because he looked such a little horror. -</p> - -<p> -Conversation languished. That was owing to me. When we had gone some -distance Mr Rumford took out his watch. -</p> - -<p> -“I am afraid we shall be late for the theatre. Piece begins at eight. -Half-past seven now.” -</p> - -<p> -“I presume that we have reserved seats. As they will be retained for -us it doesn’t matter what time we occupy them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so—only, it disturbs the audience going in in the middle of -the piece.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really?” -</p> - -<p> -That remark, from me, put a period to that topic. It made it so clear -that to me it was a matter of the most complete indifference whether -the audience was, or was not, disturbed. As a rule, I think it is -horrid for people to come in late—so ill-bred—it upsets everyone. -But I had a point of view for that night only. -</p> - -<p> -I made another observation, when it seemed that you could have cut -with a knife the silence which ensued. -</p> - -<p> -“Is this a funeral party? Has the weight of our feelings made us dumb? -Can’t any of you say something?” -</p> - -<p> -That kind of remark always afflicts people’s tongues with a sort of -paralysis. I was perfectly well aware of it. That was why I made it. -They stumbled through some idiotic efforts to clothe with words ideas -which they did not happen to possess just then. Then I created a -diversion. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe I would rather not dine at Dupont’s. I think I’ve heard -stories about it which show that it is not quite the place for ladies. -It seems strange that Mr Hammond should have made the suggestion.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, Miss Norah, the suggestion——” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes?” -</p> - -<p> -I knew that he was about to say that it came from me. But I stopped -him in time. Then he stopped himself—rather neatly. -</p> - -<p> -“The suggestion—was—only a suggestion.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is a pity that it got even as far as a suggestion. Can you not -tell us of some place, Mr Rumford, where it’s respectable?” -</p> - -<p> -“They feed you decently at the Imperial.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then by all means let us go where they feed you decently.” -</p> - -<p> -So we descended at the Imperial Hotel. We asked for a private room. -There was an entrance hall, with a good many people in it. As we -passed through we roused rather a sensation. I do not think that the -women admired me—they could not possibly like my dress, nobody could, -and there was nothing else about me to like—but on some of the men I -believe I made an impression, of rather a peculiar kind. Of course I -never looked at any of them. A lady never looks at a strange man. I -hope I never should forget myself to that extent. But I noticed them -all the same; and they all of them looked at me, in some cases in a -somewhat singular way. Some of them had ladies with them; and in those -cases I was convinced that the ladies—who were a thousand times -better dressed than I was, and were so much prettier—did not entirely -relish the manner in which their attendant cavaliers were eyeing me. -And I suspected that my five men did not altogether like it either; so -that it was rather amusing on the whole. -</p> - -<p> -The dinner was not a complete success. I really could not say it was, -especially at the beginning. To commence with, Mr Purchase and Mr -Carter did not put in an appearance in that private room for two or -three minutes after us, and I had a kind of persuasion that they had -remained behind to say a few words to two gentlemen who had regarded -me with marked attention. When they came Mr Purchase looked red and Mr -Carter white. I wondered what had passed, and should have liked to -have made inquiries. But at the moment I did not see how I could do so -with appropriate delicacy. -</p> - -<p> -There seemed to be a spirit of mischief in that private room which was -bent on setting us at cross purposes. They showed a tendency to snap -at each other’s noses, which, remembering that I was the only lady -present, was not nice manners; though, of course, it had its -entertaining side. An imposing personage—a manager, or head waiter, -or something—had followed us into the room, and with a tablet in his -hand, stood prepared to take our orders, which it seemed that nobody -was quite prepared to give. There was a general disinclination to -order the various dishes which together go to make a dinner, which was -slightly embarrassing, and was the cause of some little discussion. -Under the circumstances, I cannot see how the imposing personage was -to blame for taking the matter a good deal out of their hands. Even if -he did it with a certain air of deference to me, I cannot admit that -he ignored them altogether, or that he drew up the plan of a dinner in -which they were not suffered to have a voice. Therefore when, having -completed the order for the meal, he withdrew, I was astonished to -hear the remarks of which he was the subject. Major Tibbet drew -himself to his full height—which, after all, is not much—blew his -nose—which I do not believe required blowing—and flourished his -handkerchief—which was of salmon-coloured silk—in the air. -</p> - -<p> -“Fellow’s too big for his place!” -</p> - -<p> -To my surprise the others followed in a chorus which pointed to their -being, for the first time, in agreement with the Major. -</p> - -<p> -“A good deal too big,” declared Mr Rumford; “and he forgets his -place.” -</p> - -<p> -“Too much mouth,” was Mr Hammond’s cryptic utterance. “Wants riding on -the snaffle.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Purchase’s comment was easier to understand; and, perhaps, on that -very account, more acidulated. -</p> - -<p> -“Some of the jacks-in-office you meet in places of this sort are -insufferable.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Carter echoed him, with an addition of his own. -</p> - -<p> -“The amazing part of it is the way in which they are suffered.” -</p> - -<p> -“But,” I observed, with all the innocence at my command, “why are you -finding fault with him? I thought him most attentive.” -</p> - -<p> -“There is such a thing,” returned the Major, seesawing himself on his -toes and heels in a way I hate, “especially in a fellow in his -position, as being too attentive.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I thought that it was the special business of persons in his -position to be attentive, that that was what they were there for, and -that the more attentive they were the better.” -</p> - -<p> -“There are ways <i>and</i> ways of being attentive, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -This was Mr Carter. He looked really angry. I had not a notion why. -</p> - -<p> -“I rather liked his way,” I said. -</p> - -<p> -I could see that words were trembling on Mr Carter’s lips. The five -exchanged glances, the meaning of which was beyond my comprehension. -The door opened; in came the imposing personage followed by two of his -understrappers. Mr Carter looked him full in the face. -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t wait.” -</p> - -<p> -The personage seemed surprised, as was not unnatural. -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, sir, I am the manager of the private rooms.” -</p> - -<p> -“I say that you need not wait.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, sir, as you please; but I am no waiter.” -</p> - -<p> -Yet he acted as if he were a waiter, which did seem a little -impertinent. But he managed with such dexterity, that, without an -actual scene, it would have been difficult to keep him out of the -room. -</p> - -<p> -People in his position nearly always are good-looking, after a fashion -of their own, which is a fashion I detest. As regards looks he was -certainly up to the average of his kind; indeed, I should have said a -good deal above it, only the expression of opinion would not have been -popular just then. He was an enormous man, perhaps six foot three or -four, with tremendous width across the chest, and the most magnificent -moustache. It was the finest moustache I had ever seen, and curled up -at the ends in a way which made you keep on wondering how he did it. -He had fair hair which curled naturally, and was parted in the middle, -and the bluest eyes. Of course he was a German; and when you paused to -think that his compatriots could afford to allow such a man as he was -to go abroad and be a waiter, and never notice his absence, then you -began to understand how it is that Germany bids fair to take her stand -in the highest places. -</p> - -<p> -At the same time, his conduct did make the position seem a trifle -strained, even more strained than it would have been without him, -which was saying something. He might call himself the manager of the -private rooms; but, despite Mr Carter, he succeeded in combining with -his management a good deal of personal attention to me,—and that with -an air which reminded me irresistibly of the shop-walker and the -barber; and which I saw quite plainly brought my own five men nearly -to the boiling point. -</p> - -<p> -For my own part, I do not care what I eat. But when I am eating I do -not like to feel that at any moment plates may be thrown about. I had -the feeling throughout that dinner. A note of discord was in the air, -in fact, several notes. My companions grumbled at all the dishes, -regardless of my presence. They reviled the meal as a whole, and in -its several parts, declining to admit that it had a single redeeming -feature. One is bound to confess that that private room manager’s -demeanour was in striking contrast to that of his guests. They did -nearly everything, short of throwing things at his head. He, on the -other hand, was imperturbability itself; to me, the soul of -politeness. And though he looked as if he could have knocked all their -heads together, he listened to the nasty things they said—and they -said some nasty ones—with a smile which never faltered for a single -second. -</p> - -<p> -The climax came with the bill. Major Tibbet approached the subject in -a style which I had not supposed was customary when a lady was -present. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose we are going to the theatre; and its certainly no use our -lingering over this travesty of a Christian meal. I must apologise to -you, Miss Norah, for what you have suffered; but I trust you will do -me the justice to admit that the fault is hardly mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you; I have enjoyed my dinner very much.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dinner? You call it dinner? Really, Miss Norah, you allow your -goodness of heart to carry you too far. I don’t know which was worse, -the food itself, the way in which it was prepared, or the service.” -</p> - -<p> -They followed one after the other. -</p> - -<p> -“The service in particular was bad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Shocking. Never saw worse. Stable boy could have done better.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps we have been unfortunate in our attendants.” -</p> - -<p> -“There is no perhaps in the case. We have been.” -</p> - -<p> -Then came my postscript. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought the service excellent.” -</p> - -<p> -“To have pleased madame is very much.” -</p> - -<p> -That manager of the private rooms favoured me with a bow and a smile, -for which—from the expression of their countenances—I should -scarcely have been surprised if they had attacked him tooth and nail. -The Major spluttered. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose there is something to pay—though we have had practically -nothing. Waiter,”—with an accent on the “waiter,”—“let us know at -once what there is to pay.” -</p> - -<p> -The personage retired, presently to return with a document which he -placed before the Major. The Major’s face at sight of it was a study. -</p> - -<p> -“What! This! For such a meal! Monstrous, absolutely monstrous! Rank -robbery, nothing else.” -</p> - -<p> -He passed the document round the table. By each it was commented on -with equal freedom, which was nice for me, who had consumed the repast -to the charge for which my hosts objected to with so much vigour. The -imposing personage’s attitude made it even nicer. -</p> - -<p> -“These gentlemen object to the bill?” -</p> - -<p> -“Object? I should think we do object. We object very much to being -robbed.” -</p> - -<p> -“If these gentlemen do not wish to pay the bill they need not. We -shall not try to make them, not at all. We will make them a present of -the food, the wine, the service, everything. Only—they will not be -served in the house again.” -</p> - -<p> -That, as I have said, was the climax. The bill was paid. My hosts did -not propose to allow themselves to be regarded as recipients of -charity. That manager of the private rooms showed, as I quitted the -apartment, that his temper was still unruffled. -</p> - -<p> -“Madame will permit that I offer her a flower.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out a white rose. I placed it among Basil Carter’s -lilies-of-the-valley. I sincerely trusted that Audrey had never seen -such an expression on Mr Carter’s face. To me it looked like murder. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch17"> -CHAPTER XVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BROWN MAN</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I was</span> enjoying myself pretty fairly, taking it altogether. I wished -I was better dressed. It made me wild to see women in such lovely -things. Not that I envied them their clothes. I can safely say that -about a good many of them, that was all there was to envy; and, after -all, clothes are not quite everything. But it was disgusting that I -should be so dowdy. And the consciousness was forcing itself on me -momentarily more and more, that Jane’s shoes were tight, even for -shoes. Still, there were alleviations. It was not so unpleasant as one -might think, to feel that five grown men were hanging on your -skirts—even if they were not in the latest fashion—as if it was -painful to be more than a yard or so away from you. The ill-concealed -fury with which they resented the interest which I roused in the -breasts of other men was not without its amusing side. -</p> - -<p> -There could be no doubt that I did arouse interest, not the very -slightest. As we passed through the hall to the omnibus—that -undignified vehicle!—I accidentally dropped Audrey’s fan—at least, -almost accidentally. I ought not to have dropped it, because it was a -lovely fan, and it was awfully good of Audrey to lend it me, and it -might have been damaged by the fall. But it was not; it fell on the -carpet, and was not hurt a bit. And I could not help but drop it. The -men of the hall looked at me in one kind of queer way, and the women -looked at me in another, so I felt bound to try an experiment; and -down went the fan. -</p> - -<p> -The result was most surprising. In an instant every male creature -there came rushing to pick it up, guests and attendants. It was so -odd; and not the least odd part of it was the faces of the women. I -doubt if some of them had ever been more astonished in their lives -before, or angrier. For every one of them to be deserted, without a -moment’s warning, for a dowdily-dressed girl’s fan—and, oh dear! I -did not need their critical glances to tell me I was dowdy—was a -trifle marked. There was quite a scramble to pick up Audrey’s fan. It -ran more risk of being damaged in the scrimmage than by the fall. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sorry to give you all so much trouble,” I murmured. -</p> - -<p> -But they did not seem to mind in the least. They appeared, if -anything, to like it. -</p> - -<p> -The fan was returned to me by a man who was really better-looking than -that manager of the private rooms—at least, in my opinion. And he had -as fine a moustache, though there was not such an ostentatious -quantity of it, and it stood out straight at either end in the -daintiest way. He was what I should call a brown man, with a pair of -eyes which positively laughed at you. He had on a white waistcoat, -which fitted him like a glove, and was both a dandy and a man. -</p> - -<p> -He stood in front of me, with Audrey’s fan in his hand, and something -in his eyes which sent a thrill all over. I fancy it must have been -because he looked so masterful. -</p> - -<p> -“It is very good of you to take so much trouble. I am very awkward.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am very fortunate.” -</p> - -<p> -That was all he said. I do not think I ever heard a more musical voice -in a man. With a graceful movement of his handsome head he handed me -the fan. But he did not move. And, somehow, I did not seem to mind his -continuing to stand there with his eyes looking into mine. But my -escort did. The Major began to fuss. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, are we going to that theatre or are we not? Because, if we are, -we shall have to make haste if we want to get there before the piece -is over.” -</p> - -<p> -The procession continued towards the door, the men giving way to let -us pass, following me with their eyes in a manner which was -pronounced. I was conscious that the women also were following me with -their eyes, in a manner which was equally pronounced, in an entirely -different sense. I knew they were picking me to pieces, failing to see -anything in me of any sort or kind, and disapproving of me most -heartily. But I was also aware that the brown man was coming after us -towards the door. As we were climbing into the omnibus he stood on the -top of the steps, out in the open street, and watched us. When Mr -Hammond told the coachman to drive to the Gaiety Theatre I felt sure -he heard. He gave a little inclination of his head as we drove off -which as good as said he did. -</p> - -<p> -In the omnibus the atmosphere was not less charged with electricity -than it had been before. Indeed, I should have said that it even more -inclined to give off sparks. As soon as we had started, Mr Carter -observed, with his very sweetest air: -</p> - -<p> -“There seem to be a great many impertinent persons about to-night.” -</p> - -<p> -I knew he had the brown man in his mind’s eye. He had glared at him -throughout. -</p> - -<p> -“One does meet impertinent persons sometimes. Occasionally one even -goes out with them.” -</p> - -<p> -He looked as if he could have said a good deal, but he managed to -refrain. The others, apparently, were warned by his fate; they joined -him in an ominous silence. So I went on, sweetly: -</p> - -<p> -“What a handsome man that head-waiter was, wasn’t he? And wasn’t he -big? I couldn’t see what fault you had to find with him, I thought he -was most attentive; and it was nice of him to give me this rose. One -values small attentions from persons in his position.” -</p> - -<p> -I thought that that most innocent remark would have had the effect of -a lighted match dropped into a barrel of gunpowder. But I was -mistaken. They all, with one accord, persisted in saying nothing at -all. I knew that they thought the more. Still, their dumbness had an -effect which was disconcerting. I was just beginning to wonder if I -was to spend the evening in the society of a company of deaf-mutes, -when a remark from Mr Hammond loosed their tongues in earnest. -</p> - -<p> -“By the way, about sitting in the theatre, you’ll sit with me first, -won’t you, Miss Norah? Now say you will?” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Rumford interposed, before I could reply: -</p> - -<p> -“That sort of thing is contrary to our agreement, Mr Hammond, entirely -contrary. Personal appeals were expressly forbidden. We arranged the -order in which the sitting was to be; and by that arrangement you -undertook to stand.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all very well, but according to that arrangement she was to -sit first with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely. Which makes my astonishment the greater that you should -attempt to upset it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And afterwards with Purchase.” -</p> - -<p> -Then came Mr Purchase’s turn. -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so; after sitting for twenty minutes with Mr Rumford.” -</p> - -<p> -“And then with Carter.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perfectly correct.” This Mr Carter. “Unfortunately, Miss Norah, I -have not been able to get another box. So we have agreed that I shall -remain outside Purchase’s box while he enjoys your company, and that -then he shall go down to Mr Rumford’s stall when my turn comes.” -</p> - -<p> -“There promises to be a good deal of transferring,” I observed. -“Something like not having more than one dance with a single partner.” -</p> - -<p> -“And afterwards,” continued the injured Mr Hammond, “Miss Norah is to -sit with Tibbet.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I shall be only too charmed to have her,” simpered the Major. -“Better late than never. Only unluckily, Miss Norah, I’m in an almost -worse plight than Mr Carter, inasmuch as I have only succeeded in -procuring two seats, in what, I am given to understand, is called the -upper circle—wretched places in the clouds.” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re not seats in which a lady ought to be asked to sit, certain -fact.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then,” suggested Mr Rumford, “when it is the Major’s turn, you might -let him have your two stalls.” -</p> - -<p> -“Capital notion, Mr Rumford, excellent. I am sure that Mr Hammond will -be only too delighted.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond might be delighted, but he did not show it. He preferred to -air a grievance which evidently lay heavy on his mind. -</p> - -<p> -“What I have to say is this. When we made the arrangement you’re all -so keen about, it was understood that we should be in the theatre by -eight. But it’s now past nine.” -</p> - -<p> -“We are hardly to blame for that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t say you are—don’t say anyone’s to blame,—only stating a fact. -But as things are, it comes to this—that, by the time you’ve all had -your turns, the performance will be over, and then where shall I be? -That’s what I want to know.” -</p> - -<p> -“A bargain is a bargain, Mr Hammond; and when one is signed and sealed -one generally has to adhere to it.” -</p> - -<p> -“It may be a bargain for you, Rumford, but don’t call it a bargain for -me. The entire arrangement was based on the presumption that we should -be in the theatre at eight o’clock, and, as we’re not, then the whole -thing falls to the ground.” -</p> - -<p> -“An astounding proposition, Mr Hammond! A most astounding -proposition!” -</p> - -<p> -Then they all began to talk at once, in tones which did not suggest -that they would quickly arrive at a clear and amicable common -understanding. It struck me that it was about time for me to say a -word. So I said one. -</p> - -<p> -“It seems to me, if I may be allowed to speak—and I really don’t care -to hear people bawling in an omnibus, at least not more than two or -three at once, unless I am first permitted to get out—I say that it -seems to me that you are drawing up the programme of how I am to spend -the evening without the slightest reference to my wishes. So far as I -understand I am to be passed round and round the theatre, as if I were -an old shoe, in a sort of game of hunt-the-slipper.” -</p> - -<p> -“Say, rather, like some priceless jewel, which each desires to -regard—though only for a few fleeting moments—as his own.” -</p> - -<p> -“That may sound prettier, Mr Purchase, but the idea does not appeal to -me, and I’m not fond of trotting in and out of stalls and boxes.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the arrangement was made, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Mr Carter, you seem to have arrangements on the brain. Have I -not already told you that I care nothing for arrangements, whether -made or unmade? You are taking me to the theatre at a ridiculously -late hour. I cannot understand why you went through the farce of -asking me to go if you did not propose to get me there before the -performance was over. I exceedingly dislike arriving after the piece -has commenced. The least you could do was to manage matters so as to -ensure that I didn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -The pause which followed was instinct with the silence of -speechlessness. The audacity of my method of presenting the case took -those five men’s breath away. I looked into each of their faces with a -look which dared them to contradict me. And none of them dared. It was -delicious. The idea that if I chose to say that black was white I -could induce normally reasonable people to refrain from, at any rate -openly, attempting to demonstrate the contrary was a novel one. Yet I -could not but feel that such a power might become dangerous if it were -carried too far. It would not be pleasant for persons to be compelled -to regard chalk as cheese. -</p> - -<p> -I was not, however, disposed to consider that I had carried that power -too far as yet. So I continued my observations in a strain which was -intended to impress them with my conviction that I was the injured -party. -</p> - -<p> -“Since, owing to your curious method of managing affairs, so much of -the evening has been already wasted, all that remains is for you to do -your utmost to enable me to enjoy those portions of the performance -which we may still be in time to see.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is our one desire, Miss Norah; our one desire!” -</p> - -<p> -“If that is the case then you will not consider yourselves at all, you -will only consider me.” -</p> - -<p> -“How are we to do that, Miss Norah?” -</p> - -<p> -“By observing my wishes.” -</p> - -<p> -“What—wh—what are your wishes?” -</p> - -<p> -The question was asked with a faltering intonation which spoke -volumes. -</p> - -<p> -“They are very simple. It is plain that we cannot all sit together. It -is equally plain that you cannot agree as to how the division is to be -effected. I will solve the difficulty by telling you what are my own -wishes in the matter. If you have any regard for me, whatever, you -will observe them. Mr Purchase will sit in the stalls with Mr Hammond; -Mr Carter with Mr Rumford; Major Tibbet will have his two seats in the -upper circle to himself, and I will occupy the box—alone.” -</p> - -<p> -My proposal was not greeted with any greater warmth than I expected. I -never saw five blanker looking faces. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, you’re not—you’re not—very complimentary to us all.” -</p> - -<p> -“I did not intend to be. I did not know you brought me out to pay you -compliments.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ve hit the nail in pointing out that you ought to consider the -box as yours, and only yours. That’s right enough. We’re pretty idiots -not to have seen it all along. But mayn’t some of us come up and talk -to you now and then?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d rather you didn’t. You might spoil my enjoyment of what was -taking place upon the stage.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah!” -</p> - -<p> -“However, I have no desire to enjoy myself at your expense. So, when -we reach the theatre, you go to your seats—and ask the coachman to -drive me home.” -</p> - -<p> -As it happened, just then we reached the theatre. The door of the -omnibus was opened, and, almost before I knew it, I was being handed -out of it on to the pavement. It was all done so quickly that I really -had no time to remonstrate. Still less to carry the trampling process -to a further stage. Those five men had more ways of obtaining their -own ends than one might suppose. And when a brougham dashed up, and -the brown man sprang out of it, almost within a couple of feet of -where I was standing, in a manner of speaking I lost my head -completely. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch18"> -CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BEFORE THE CURTAIN</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">There</span> is more depth in a man than one might imagine. I am not sure -that that is exactly what I mean, but then I do not know how to -describe just what I do mean; it sometimes is so difficult. One thing -is certain, that a man does keep his presence of mind, and that not -always in a manner which he has any reason to consider creditable. I -am not able to state what happened with so much clearness as I should -wish, or, indeed, with any clearness at all. Under the circumstances, -to expect lucidity from me is out of the question. I know that I lost -my presence of mind. I have a vague impression that during the time I -was wholly without it, I was hurried somewhere, by some one, in a -manner which was beyond my comprehension. When I regained it, at least -in part—for I never did altogether during the entire remainder of -that evening; that I do most solemnly assert—I was in a seat, with a -stage in front of me, on which something was going on, and people all -round me, who were apparently in a state of dissatisfaction with -someone, about something. Voices were saying behind me: -</p> - -<p> -“Sit down in front!” -</p> - -<p> -I looked, and there, actually, was Walter Hammond settling himself in -a seat at my side. A gentleman on the other side of him leant forward -and said: -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know if you’re aware that you’ve trodden on my hat, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hammond’s manner did not betray the mental disturbance which his -reply suggested. -</p> - -<p> -“Frightfully sorry! Delighted to provide you with another, sir!” -</p> - -<p> -I was lost in amazement as to how I had come to be where I was; above -all, how he had come to be there too. Where were the four? How was it -that they had calmly acquiesced in my being whipped off from -underneath their very noses? Where was the brown man, and everything? -Some observations from Mr Hammond threw a little light upon the -matter, but not much. -</p> - -<p> -“Very neatly done—the riding did it—bad starters—left them at the -post—romped in before they knew we’d begun to make the running.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where,” I inquired, “are the others? And how is it that, after what I -have just now been saying, I find myself here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Question of jockeyship, Miss Norah. Good seat in the saddle—quick -hands—made up my mind you and I should be snug together.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish to understand,” I began. -</p> - -<p> -“Will you pardon my pointing out to you, madam, that a lady is singing -on the stage?” -</p> - -<p> -Hardly had I opened my mouth than this remark, or question, or -whatever it was intended for, was addressed to me by a woman who -occupied the seat upon my left. There was not much of her, but she -made up in acidity—or it seemed as if she did—what she lacked in -size. The undressed portion of her—which was disproportionately -large—was covered with jewels. She looked to me to be about fifty, -though, I daresay, she would have given her age as thirty-five. Being -spoken to in such a fashion by a perfect stranger, and such a shrimp -of a thing, precipitated me back into the condition of mental -confusion from which I had just been emerging. When I myself get to a -theatre early, and am enjoying the performance, I hate people to come -in late. And when to that offence they add the capital crime of -talking out loud, or even in an audible whisper—and there is a -certain sort of whisper which is almost more audible than a shout—I -sometimes ask myself why they were not drowned when they were young. -In a mazy sort of mist I was disposed to wonder if other people could -possibly be asking themselves the same question about me. I became -hazily conscious that I was an object of general attention. People -were murmuring among themselves. I even suspected the performers on -the stage of regarding me with a malevolent eye. -</p> - -<p> -It was a painful situation. I could not stand up and explain to the -audience that it was not my fault I had entered in such a whirlwind -fashion, apparently in the very middle of a song. I could not tell -them that if I had had my way I should not have been there at all. -Still less could I rise up, then and there, and march straight out -again. All I could do was sit still, and burn. -</p> - -<p> -On the other hand, Mr Hammond showed not the slightest sign of -discomfiture. I was not only aware that he was smiling in a most -significant manner, but he went so far as to allow himself to touch me -with the point of his elbow, nudged me, in fact, with it in the side. -And he said: -</p> - -<p> -“Gay old kicker.” -</p> - -<p> -I do not pretend to be versed in stable slang, but it was impossible -to suppose that the phrase conveyed a compliment, especially as a -reference from a gentleman to a lady of ripened years—I should not -have been surprised if she had been more than fifty. Unfortunately, -the reference was as obvious as it was audible. I felt my next-door -neighbour draw herself up in a way which made a creepy-crawly feeling -go all over me. I looked at her with what was intended to be an air of -deprecation, and an intimation that I was in no way to be confounded -with that dreadful Walter Hammond. And as I did so I became conscious -that on the other side of her was a man—an old man, a very old man, -and, also, I am afraid, a wicked old man. He was big and bald, with a -red face, a weedy, white moustache, and an expression which I should -describe as a mixture of ferocity, depravity, and—though I am -reluctant to write it—drink. Picture my sensations when—as I turned -to the little woman, who, I fear, poor thing, was his wife; before I -really realised his presence, or how he was staring at me with his -great eyes: and, emphatically, before I had the dimmest suspicion of -what he was about to do—he winked at me—positively winked, not once, -nor twice, but thrice—ostentatiously, without the least attempt at -concealment. The little woman did not catch him in the act; goodness -only knows what would have happened if she had. What he meant by it, -or what he took me for, I have not the faintest notion. I was -beginning to wonder what everyone took me for. Although I know my face -became as red as fire, I went cold all over. Just then the singing on -the stage ceased, people broke into applause. In the midst of their -clapping I became aware that Walter Hammond was addressing me in a -strain which as nearly as possible deprived me of the small remainder -of my breath. -</p> - -<p> -Whether, under any circumstances, a reasonable being would have -supposed that that was a proper place, or a fitting moment, to enter -on a subject of the kind, I cannot say, but, considering that, to all -intents and purposes, we were strangers, and how he had treated me in -the days gone by—not to speak of the way in which he had behaved to -Eveleen—his doing so, then and there, was—well, beyond anything. I -was so bewildered, and the people made such a noise, and he had such a -queer way of expressing himself, that at first I did not understand -what he was after. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t believe in entering a filly unless you mean running her to -win.” I repeat that I have no pretension whatever to an acquaintance -with the language of the turf; so that if there is anything muddled -about his metaphors as I repeat them, I presume that the fault is -mine. “If I had my way should always penalise entries which weren’t on -the job. Whenever I’m in I’m there to win. That’s me, Miss Norah, -straight. I’m no mole—always do what I do do out in the open—no -burrowing for me. When I go for a mark, I aim for all I’m worth. Same -with a girl. Mayn’t seem like a marrying man—have been told I’m like -a cock, hard to bag. As girls go, small wonder they only bag crocks. -But when I’m in for marriage, I mean getting there—there’s no -stopping me—foul riding couldn’t do it—and there’s no fear of foul -riding from you, because you’re different from any girl I ever met. -Miss Norah, I love you!” -</p> - -<p> -As ill luck would have it the applause died away just as he uttered -those words—and just as I was approaching the dumfounded stage. An -encore had been conceded; the singer was preparing to re-commence, -when Mr Hammond delivered himself of that paralysing piece of -information in a tone of voice which had been designed to reach my -ears in spite of the din, and which rose above the sudden silence in a -sort of roar. In consequence, those fatal words—“Miss Norah, I love -you!”—must have been heard all over the stalls, by nearly everyone in -the pit, and by goodness knows who else besides. It was delightful for -me. I should have liked to have sunk into the ground. A voice came -from somewhere at the back—a vulgar voice. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re quite right, sir; and so say all of us; we all love Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -Giggles came from every side. Regardless of what I felt, that -extraordinary man did not seem to care in the least what anybody -thought of him. Merely dropping his voice a tone or two, he actually -went straight on: -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind those beggars—time’s precious—must make the running -while you can. I say, Miss Norah, that I love you.” -</p> - -<p> -A gentleman in the row of stalls behind us leant forward, thrusting -his head between Mr Hammond’s and mine, and observed—think of it!— -</p> - -<p> -“We have heard you say so once already, sir. Would you mind postponing -the repetition of the statement till after the singer has finished. We -are waiting to hear the song?” -</p> - -<p> -So far from being nonplussed, or disconcerted, or ashamed, or anything -he ought to have been, all that Mr Hammond did do was to adjust his -monocle more securely in his eye, and to look at the stage. Seeing -that the fact was as stated, and that somebody was about to sing, he -apparently appreciated the reasonableness of the stranger’s request, -and held his peace; and the singer sang. -</p> - -<p> -What she sang about—she was one of those lovely ladies whom you do -find at the Gaiety—I have not an idea. All my ideas were gone. I was -more than speechless. There was Walter Hammond, sitting all at once as -if he had been carved out of stone, glaring at the stage as if he took -not the slightest interest in what was taking place on it. The man -behind, when making that unutterably impertinent remark, had slipped a -scrap of paper over my shoulder, unnoticed, I presume, by Mr Hammond, -and, I hope, by everyone else. It had slid down my bare neck, and had -lodged in the top of my bodice. That wicked old person who sat on the -other side of the little woman kept his beetroot-coloured face turned -almost constantly in my direction; when I moved so much as an eyelash -in his, he winked. Short of provoking a scandalous scene, I did not -see what I could do to stop it, even if I had had my senses -sufficiently about me to do anything, which I really had not. For, -endeavouring to avoid his winks, my glances reached a box which was, -so to speak, on the other side of the top of his bald head. In it was -the brown man. He was standing up in the centre of it, well to the -front. Although he shared the box with a lady, he did not allow her -presence to deter him in the least. So soon as he caught my eye, he -inclined his head in my direction in the most noticeable way, as if we -had been quite old friends. The lady, who was young and pretty, and -most beautifully dressed, was sitting down on his right, an -opera-glass before her eyes, pointed straight at me. When he presumed -to bestow on me that movement of recognition, she put down her glass -and smiled, and, unless I was mistaken, nodded at me. I was convinced -that I had never seen her in my life before. What did she mean? and -what did he mean? and what should I do? -</p> - -<p> -Of course, noticing his impertinence was out of the question, though -he did look so distinguished standing up there in his beautiful white -waistcoat, really my ideal of a handsome man. To avoid him, and to -mark my sense of his misconduct, I turned my head right round, so that -my glance lighted on the box which was exactly opposite the one in -which he was. -</p> - -<p> -It was occupied by the four men. -</p> - -<p> -They were standing up, all in a row. At one end, a little back, was Mr -Rumford. He had his hands in his pockets. On his face was an -expression which hardly betokened enjoyment of the actors’ and -actresses’ efforts to amuse. Next to him was Basil Carter, to whom, -from what I had understood, the box belonged. He was apparently not in -the best of tempers. Resting his hands on the edge of the box, he -glared, first at Mr Hammond, then at me, then at the brown man over -the way. I could not honestly assert that he looked pleasantly at -either of us. I had learned a good deal about his temper since leaving -home. I wondered if Audrey had an inkling of what sort of one he -really had. Beside him was Jack Purchase. His arms were crossed upon -his chest in what I imagine that he perhaps supposed was a tragic -attitude. It reminded me of the pictures in the novelettes which I -used to read when I was little—“Lady Lucy’s Lingering Love,” and that -sort of thing. They were rather fond of giving illustrations of -gentlemen with their arms folded across their chests; and there was -something in his face which was a good deal like what used to be on -theirs. He looked alternately at the brown man and Mr Hammond as if he -would have liked to eat them, though, I daresay, that that was not the -impression which the look was intended to convey. With the fingers of -one hand he held the brim of his crush hat. Personally, I should not -have been a bit surprised if it had come spinning down at Mr Hammond -at my side, or if it had gone whirling through the air at the brown -man opposite. If he could have used it as a boomerang, and flung it at -both, it is my private impression that, in spite of the scandal it -would have occasioned, he would have done it. I never saw two men in -worse tempers than he and Mr Carter seemed to be just then. -</p> - -<p> -At the further end of the row, completing the quartette, was little -Major Tibbet. He was really a pitiable figure. What, I suspect, was -his partial consciousness of the fact made it more obvious still. He -kept fidgeting from foot to foot, touching himself furtively here and -there, as if he doubted if everything was right. And it was not. He -seemed to have been in the wars. His wig was on one side, one eyebrow -was not only smudgy, but distinctly higher than the other, and -something dreadful had happened to his complexion. An earthquake, or -some similar cataclysm, seemed to have cracked it, so that on one side -of his face quite a large patch of it was missing. -</p> - -<p> -I could not but feel that mamma would not have liked to have seen him -in his then condition. She is so particular about men’s appearance, -especially those whom she honours with her acquaintance. And if she -has the faintest suspicion that her own transformation is in the very -slightest degree out of the straight, she nearly worries herself into -a fit. What would she have felt if she had seen the singular angle at -which the Major’s wig was poised? -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch19"> -CHAPTER XIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AN UNREHEARSED EFFECT</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I would</span> have given the world to have been able to rise from my seat, -leave the theatre, and go straight home. But the power to do it was -not in me. I knew there was a storm in the air. I felt it about me on -every side. I am sure I am not a nervous person, as a rule. But just -then I was simply a bundle of nerves; on tenterhooks all the time as -to what was going to happen next. And then Jane’s shoes were -inflicting such agonies on my unfortunate feet that I would have -slipped them off had it not been for the conviction that I should -never be able to get into them again if I did; and what would happen -if I had to march out of the theatre in my crimson-stockinged feet? In -such a case, would it be more dignified to carry Jane’s shoes with me -in my hand, or to leave them behind me on the floor? -</p> - -<p> -That pretty lady on the stage finished her encored song, and I had not -caught a word or a note!—and generally I do not allow a single thing -to escape me. Under cover of the clapping, an attendant handed Mr -Hammond a note. I knew in an instant who it was from, if only by the -eagerness with which the four in the box observed the manner of its -reception. Not that I looked at them. I looked at no one, I did not -dare, keeping my eyes fixed as much as possible on vacancy. For, -wherever I looked, there was some presumptuous man who looked back at -me in a manner which was simply indescribable. But one need not look -to see; and I was quite aware that each of those four men was leaning -as far over the edge of the box as was consistent with safety, in -order that they might have the earliest possible information of the -adventures of that missive. -</p> - -<p> -They soon had it. Mr Hammond rent the envelope open; took out a -card—something told me it was Basil Carter’s—read what was written -on the back of it, and tore it into shreds, which he dropped between -his knees. -</p> - -<p> -“No answer,” he said to the attendant, “except that you can tell ’em -to go to blazes.” -</p> - -<p> -Then, as if such language was a matter of no consequence, he turned to -me, continuing his previous most extraordinary remarks, completely -regardless of the performance on the stage, and of the people all -around us, too. -</p> - -<p> -“Frightfully sorry to seem to rush you, Miss Norah. Fact is, when -judge’s box is within a furlong, if you don’t want to get left behind, -you’re bound to bustle. I’ve got it all on this time—every -copper—must bar taking chances—a certainty is what I’m after. A -certainty it is, if you’ll consent. Let’s put our piles together—come -in with me on the same horse—Matrimony, out of True Love, by -Unbounded Admiration. She’s the mare to carry two as if they were one; -and if you ride her with a gentle hand, she keeps on winning all the -time. Miss Norah, say that it’s a go.” -</p> - -<p> -I suppose, looking back, that that extraordinary speech was intended -to be regarded as a proposal of marriage. I do not see, now, what else -it could have been meant for. But I did not see it then. Considering -the circumstances under which it was made, it was not strange. -</p> - -<p> -I do not know if it is customary for proposals to be made in the -stalls of a theatre. I sincerely hope, for the lady’s sake, that it is -not; especially if the subject is treated in the singular manner in -which it was treated then. Not only was the phraseology very peculiar, -but many of the people about us could not help hearing most of what he -said; so that I had a dreadful feeling that they were more amused by -his remarks than by those of the performers on the stage. No woman, I -suppose, likes the declaration of a man’s passion to be made a public -mock of, even when it comes from such a ridiculous creature as Walter -Hammond. -</p> - -<p> -Voices came to us from the pit—as before, vulgar voices. -</p> - -<p> -“Silence! Shut up there in front! Can’t the gentleman in the stalls go -outside if he wants to talk to his young lady?” -</p> - -<p> -In desperation, I endeavoured to induce him to respect their most -reasonable wishes. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Hammond,” I whispered, “can’t you keep still? You prevent the -people from enjoying the performance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hang the performance!” was his answer. “And hang the people, too! Say -yes, Miss Norah—only say yes!—and I’ll be silent as the grave.” -</p> - -<p> -He reached out—in the stalls!—for my hand. I had the greatest -difficulty in keeping it from him. If I had allowed him to get it into -his, what he would have tried to do next, I do not dare to think. Had -I had the vaguest conception of what kind of person he really was, -nothing would have induced me to have any connection with him -whatever. I pitied Eveleen, from the bottom of my heart, if she ever -allowed her path in life to become associated with his. -</p> - -<p> -The same attendant who had brought Mr Carter’s card—or, at least, -what I believed to have been Mr Carter’s card—re-appeared. All round -us people were smiling, some of them giggling outright. They were -whispering among themselves. I saw that we were targets for -everybody’s eyes. I had a horrid feeling that we were even attracting -the attention of the actors and actresses on the stage. There was no -doubt as to our being observed by the band. One of the clarionet -players was grinning with such intense enjoyment that it was a miracle -how it was that he managed to blow. The reappearance of that attendant -was a distinct relief. She held out an envelope, which Mr Hammond -snatched at with an air of resentment. She drew it back, saying, -beneath her breath: -</p> - -<p> -“It’s for the lady, sir.” -</p> - -<p> -I took it, with trembling fingers. I managed, after a deal of -ridiculous fumbling, to get it open. Inside were no less than four -visiting cards. There was no need to refer to their fronts to -understand from whom they came; I felt those four men glaring at me -from the box above. On the back of one of them something was written. -I did not look to see whose it was, but I knew it was Basil Carter’s. -It was written so very badly, apparently with a blunt lead pencil, and -I myself was in such a state of fluster, that I had difficulty in -making out what it was. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“<span class="sc">My dear Miss Norah</span>,—I implore you to come up to my box at once! Mr -Hammond undertook to conduct you to it, but, with monstrous perfidy, -he enticed you to his own stall instead. This is not the time, and I -have not the space, to give you my candid opinion of his behaviour, -but I appeal to your sense of justice——” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -That was all I could read. Several more words—or what I supposed were -words—were crammed into the corner, which were beyond my powers of -deciphering. But I had deciphered enough. What an awful character Mr -Hammond appeared to be, to have played such a trick upon his -friends—and upon me!—with the seemingly express intention of making -a laughing-stock of me in front of all the theatre. I stood up on the -instant, trembling—at least, partly—with rage. He stood up, too. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the matter? Miss Norah, where are you going?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am going to Mr Carter’s box.” -</p> - -<p> -He had the assurance to seem surprised. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah! Not before giving me an answer! Say yes! Be a sportsman, -Miss Norah, and put my number up!” -</p> - -<p> -Naturally, the whole place was in commotion. -</p> - -<p> -“Sit down in front!” exclaimed half-a-dozen voices. -</p> - -<p> -One unmannerly creature made himself clearly heard above the others. -One of the many objectionable things about Mr Hammond was that he had -such a strident voice, and that he would speak so loudly. -</p> - -<p> -“Put the gentleman’s number up, if it’s only up the spout, Miss Norah; -and then, perhaps, he will sit down!” -</p> - -<p> -I distinctly heard the acid lady beside me say: -</p> - -<p> -“I cannot understand how it is that they admit such creatures. I -certainly should have thought that they would not have been allowed in -the stalls of a respectable theatre.” -</p> - -<p> -What she meant I did not know, and I could scarcely inquire. Anyhow, -it was not an agreeable thing to have said of one. The man in the row -behind stood up, also, again thrusting his head between Mr Hammond and -me, and actually forcing a scrap of paper into my hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me once more, sir, but some of us have paid for our seats with -the idea of witnessing the performance, which, I believe, still is -going on.” -</p> - -<p> -The impertinence of the man’s manner, and the absolute insolence of -his behaviour to me, stung me to sudden fury. I can get into a rage if -I like! I held out the piece of paper which he had just insinuated -between my fingers. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Hammond, this person has just forced this into my hand, and a few -minutes ago he dropped this down my neck.” -</p> - -<p> -I extracted the three-cornered fragment, which still reposed where it -had fallen, inside my bodice, offering it to Mr Hammond with the -other. He took them both, opened one, glanced at it, then said, in a -tone of inquiry: -</p> - -<p> -“This the Johnny?” -</p> - -<p> -“That is the man.” -</p> - -<p> -I do not know what was on that scrap of paper. I have sometimes -wondered; but I never did know, and I never shall. Whatever it was, I -can scarcely conceive that it could have been an, in any way, adequate -excuse for what Mr Hammond immediately did. Yet there was a -workmanlike promptness about the fashion in which it was done which, -in a sense, appealed to me. Though it must not be, for a moment, -supposed that I regarded his action as anything but shocking. -</p> - -<p> -He turned round, and he hit that insolent man in the centre of his -face with such force that he knocked him over the back of his own -stall right into the row behind. Whatever else it was, it was a -magnificent hit. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch20"> -CHAPTER XX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BROUGHAM</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">I am</span> afraid that, in my nature somewhere, there must be a touch of -the original savage. It is a painful thing to have to admit, but when -one is so full of faults, as I confessedly am, I fancy that one or -two, more or less, can hardly make much difference. I only know that, -when I saw that person go flying over the back of his own stall, I was -obliged to Mr Hammond for having sent him there. More, a good deal -more!—I should not have minded if he had sent a good many of the -people round us after him, especially—in spite of his age—that -barefaced old man on the other side of the vinegary little woman, who, -under cover of the excitement which immediately ensued, came to my -side, and took my hand in his, and began to look at me in a fashion, -and to say things, which made me burn with a desire to throw him into -the middle of the band. -</p> - -<p> -Of course there was a disturbance. All the people in the theatre -jumped to their feet; the band ceased playing; the performance on the -stage stopped also. Shouts and noises came from all parts of the -building. Half-a-dozen men came towards us as quickly as the cramped -space permitted. Mr Hammond confronted them as coolly as you please; -he could keep his presence of mind. -</p> - -<p> -“Only gave the fellow a taste of what he deserves. Chap who behaves -like a blackguard to a woman wants drowning. Sorry, though, to have -had to make a mess with him in a place like this.” -</p> - -<p> -Attendants seemed to be advancing on us from all sides. Suddenly I -found that Basil Carter was standing in front of me. He was white with -anxiety, or agitation, or rage, or something. He began to order me -about as if I were a child. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, come up to my box, at once. Mr Hammond, I shall call you -to a personal account for this.” -</p> - -<p> -That fired me. -</p> - -<p> -“Account! Why should you call him to account? He has merely marked his -sense of an insult which was offered me. Do you consider that he is to -blame for that?” -</p> - -<p> -“There is a right and wrong way of doing that sort of thing, Miss -Norah, as Mr Hammond knows. Will you be so good as to come up into my -box?” -</p> - -<p> -That ridiculous Mr Hammond turned to me—his tenacity of purpose, in -his own absurd way, was wonderful. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Norah, you’ll give me an answer before you go!” -</p> - -<p> -“If it had not been for the almost insane manner in which you have -behaved, there might never have been this trouble. That is the answer -I give you, and that is the only one you ever will receive.” -</p> - -<p> -I marched off. In the corridor I found myself in the company of the -four. I was in a towering passion, and they also were in a rage, each -in his own way. -</p> - -<p> -“The man is a scoundrel—perfect scoundrel—ought to be treated as -such!” -</p> - -<p> -This was the Major. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is a scoundrel, Major Tibbet?” -</p> - -<p> -“Man Hammond—regular ruffian!” -</p> - -<p> -“I should recommend you to go back and tell him so. You will find -that, in the proceedings which will follow, he will be disposed to do -his share.” -</p> - -<p> -“He hasn’t behaved well, Miss Norah—really, he hasn’t!” This was Mr -Rumford; his manner I should describe as cattish. There was something -about him which reminded me of an elderly tabby. “Hoodwinked us in a -most ungentlemanly manner. Induced us to entrust him with you, on what -were absolutely false pretences. He really did.” -</p> - -<p> -“If that is so, I am more indebted to him than I imagined. That is all -I can say, Mr Rumford.” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t fair of you to say such things, Miss Norah.” Mr Purchase had -the audacity to say that. “You came with us as our common guest——” -</p> - -<p> -“Please don’t speak of me as your common guest, or as your guest at -all, Mr Purchase.” -</p> - -<p> -“You purposely twist my words. You know perfectly well——” -</p> - -<p> -“I know perfectly well that I wish to have nothing to say to you, nor -do I wish you to have anything to say to me—thank you very much -indeed, Mr Purchase. Gentlemen, I need not trouble you to come any -farther—I am going home.” -</p> - -<p> -“Going home!” cried Mr Carter. “You are coming to my box, Miss Norah.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am going to do nothing of the kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Miss Norah, surely you will not punish us because of Hammond’s -misconduct; surely——” -</p> - -<p> -“Do not trouble yourself to say anything more, Mr Carter; and be so -good as to understand me clearly. I am indebted to you, separately and -collectively, for a very unpleasant evening. I will not apportion the -blame among you; I will leave you to do that yourselves. I can only -say that had I known what sort of persons you were I should not have -trespassed on your generosity, in search—in vain search—of an -evening’s entertainment. You have already caused me to be a principal -figure in a most disagreeable scene; you see how, thanks to you, the -people are staring at me now—it’s a wonder the police do not turn me -out! Being fearful lest you may drag me into another, I will say -good-evening to you now—and thank you very much. Please do not come -with me another inch.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Miss Norah, you will at least allow us to see you home.” -</p> - -<p> -“See me home!—you! I would sooner ride with a cabman on his box.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you have no carriage!” -</p> - -<p> -“I have no omnibus, you mean. It’s a kind of vehicle I never cared -about. If you persist in following me I shall have to appeal to the -attendants for protection. There are cabs. I will get one for myself.” -</p> - -<p> -Someone touched me on the arm. It was the girl who had been in the -brown man’s box. She looked up at me with the most lovely smile, -speaking in the sweetest voice: -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps you will allow me to relieve you of that difficulty. I have a -carriage at the door. It is at your service to take you home.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is very good of you to make me such an offer, but I could not -think of troubling you—of putting you to so much inconvenience.” -</p> - -<p> -“There will be no inconvenience, and no trouble. I have some friends -here with whom I am going on. If you don’t use it it will go home -empty, so it may as well take you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—the gentleman who was with you in the box?” -</p> - -<p> -“My brother?” Somehow I was pleased to hear that the brown man was her -brother. “He is looking for my friends; you needn’t worry about him. -Come, I’ll show you which my carriage is.” -</p> - -<p> -She laid her hand lightly on my arm. All at once I found myself -walking at her side, as if we were old acquaintances. The four stood -staring after us. It was quite a comfort to be walking with a woman, -after being the observed of all those men—particularly as she was so -pretty and so beautifully dressed. As we went she talked—always with -that lovely smile. -</p> - -<p> -“You’re a girl of many adventures.” -</p> - -<p> -“To-night I am—too many.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t know. A girl can’t have too many adventures, especially -if they’re amusing ones. Do you think she can? There isn’t a man in -the theatre who has eyes for anyone but you.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not my fault. I’d almost rather they hadn’t any eyes at all.” -</p> - -<p> -She laughed, as if something I had said had tickled her. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not good wishing that; they have—big ones where a women is -concerned. There is my carriage. The commissionaire will open the door -for you; I didn’t bring a footman. Tell them where to drive. -Good-night. No thanks! Delighted it’s of use to you.” -</p> - -<p> -I left her at the top of the steps which led into the street. At the -foot a brougham was standing. As I went down the steps she signalled -to the porter, or commissionaire, or whatever he was, who, I suppose, -was attached to the theatre. He held the brougham door open for me to -enter. I stepped in, waving my hand to her in farewell greeting, and -the door was closed. I gave the commissionaire my address, leaned back -among the cushions—lovely cushions they were, like down to one’s -back!—congratulating myself on having got rid of my late companions, -and of being in the possession of so charming a conveyance. Jane’s -shoes were pinching me cruelly. I was thinking to myself that since, -fortunately, I was alone, I should be able to take them off at -once—even if I had to enter the house barefooted. The brougham moved -off. I took it for granted that we had started, and was already -leaning forward to take off those wretched shoes—the agony they were -occasioning me seemed to have suddenly become more intense than -ever—when, before we could have gone more than three or four yards, -with a little jerk we stopped. The door was opened, someone came -floundering in, the door was shut with a bang; we were off again—this -time at a good round pace, which plainly meant business. -</p> - -<p> -They say that women are fond of italics and notes of exclamation, and -I daresay I am fonder of them than I ought to be—it is so convenient -to put a mark which expresses a great deal without your having to go -to the trouble of explaining just what. But all the italics and notes -of exclamation put together would be incapable of even hinting at what -my feelings were when I realised that the object who had come -blundering in upon my privacy was the bald-headed creature who had -been sitting on the other side of the sour little woman. The discovery -of his identity set my brain—which had been settling down into a -condition of normal quiescence—in a whirl again. Had I been the -victim of a deep-laid plot? What was the meaning of the wretch’s -presence there? -</p> - -<p> -His demeanour, the words with which he addressed me, the -matter-of-fact air with which he uttered them, made the confusion -worse confounded. -</p> - -<p> -“The idea of finding you in here! Best joke I ever had in my life! You -little dear!” -</p> - -<p> -He put out his hand and felt for mine. I fancy that the rapidity with -which I withdrew myself as far as possible from him into the opposite -corner a little startled him. -</p> - -<p> -“How dare you intrude yourself in here?” -</p> - -<p> -He laughed—actually laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“You can carry things off with an air. I thought you could, by the way -you treated that chap who tried to spoon you—in the middle of the -stalls. He had a nerve. It was as good as a play to watch him. Not -that I blame him for wanting to spoon you—there isn’t a man living -who wouldn’t draw a blank cheque for the chance of doing it. You -little sweet!” -</p> - -<p> -I hurled back the hand, which again came out towards me, with a degree -of force which I imagine rather shook his ancient frame. -</p> - -<p> -“Be so good as to stop the carriage, and at once get out!” -</p> - -<p> -“Get out?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly, sir—get out!” -</p> - -<p> -“Get out of my own carriage?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your own carriage?” A wild thought rushed through my mind. Was it -possible that that lovely lady could have been playing me a trick? I -had heard of the deceitfulness of women—and seen, alas! too much; -there was a good deal of deceit practised in the bosom of my own -family, but that would be to surpass all bounds. It was incredible. -Such double dealing could not be! “It’s not your carriage. It’s the -brown man’s sister’s!” -</p> - -<p> -“The brown man’s sister’s? And who is the brown man’s sister? For the -matter of that, who’s the brown man?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know her name—I don’t know either of their names—but it’s -hers. I know it’s hers—she told me it was hers!” -</p> - -<p> -“Did she? Then she could tell ’em. Some folks can.” He winked at -me—one of those disgraceful winks of which he was so fond. “I tell -you that this carriage is mine—mine! Or rather, it’s my wife’s. I -presented it to her—with my love. If you want to have any peace at -all you’re obliged to give your wife things—at intervals. What you’ve -got to do is to make the intervals as long as you can. Between -ourselves, my wife is waiting for it now—on the pavement. She’ll be -getting anxious. She soon gets anxious, does Maria. When she finds out -what has become of it—if she ever does find out—the mercury’ll run -up the thermometer at a rate that’ll burst the whole machine. I know. -I’ve had it happen before, and found it most expensive. That’s when -the intervals recur.” The dreadful being winked again. “But this time -I shan’t mind. When I noticed, in the theatre there, the friendly way -in which you received those little movements of my eyelids I had my -hopes, but they never went as far as this. You little pet!” -</p> - -<p> -Out came the hand, and back it went—quicker than it came. -</p> - -<p> -“Will you keep yourself to yourself, sir? Did you dare for one moment -to suggest that I encouraged you in your insolent behaviour?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never know what a woman calls encouragement. But when you find her -waiting for you in your own wife’s brougham, it does—well, it does -look as if something was meant, doesn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you venture to insinuate that I got into your wife’s carriage -knowing it was here, and that you were coming into it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, my dear, don’t let’s ask each other questions. I’m used to being -put through my catechism; it happens every day of my life. Do let’s be -sociable.” -</p> - -<p> -“Be so good as to stop the carriage—your wife’s carriage—this -instant. If you won’t get out of it, I will.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not if I know it. Now you’re unreasonable. Whatever happens now, I -shall get it hot. I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a matter of complete indifference to me for what you’re hung, so -long as you are hung. If you won’t stop the carriage, then I shall.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, you don’t.” -</p> - -<p> -He moved towards me with a degree of agility which was incredible to -his multitudinous years. -</p> - -<p> -“Man!” I cried. -</p> - -<p> -Putting my hand upon his shoulder I drove him back against the -cushions with a degree of vigour which nearly sent him through them. I -think it occasioned him surprise. For the moment he seemed to be able -to do nothing else but gasp. -</p> - -<p> -I daresay I should have stopped the carriage, only just at that moment -another brougham came tearing along, which, the moment it passed, was -drawn right across our path. We stopped, perforce, with a jerk, and, I -suspect, with remarks from our driver. The other stopped also, -somebody jumped out, and there, standing in the road, looking in at -us, was the brown man. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch21"> -CHAPTER XXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE SINGULAR WOOING</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">He</span> looked very nice—it is a principle of mine to tell the truth -always, or, at least, nearly always; so I will go so far as to assert -that he looked positively delicious. Because he did. He wore no -overcoat. As he stood at the open door, with his hat in his hand, and -just that flavour of impertinence about his smile and bearing and -general deportment which does become some men, he struck me—even in -that moment of so many agitations—not only as being extremely -good-looking, which he undoubtedly was, but also as one of those -recklessly, and criminally, delightful persons with whom one could -hardly help having a really first-rate time. His manner, when he -spoke, was suavity itself. He had a pleasant voice, and a -take-it-for-granted air which was in keeping with his mischievous eyes -and his moustache and his white waistcoat. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought it was you.” Did he? How good of him! What business had he -to think about it at all? “There has been a misunderstanding. My -sister directed you to the wrong carriage. This is my sister’s -carriage. May I ask you to take the trouble to transfer yourself to -it.” -</p> - -<p> -I hesitated, or I should have hesitated, had it not been for that -wicked and presumptuous old man. -</p> - -<p> -“Who are you, sir? What do you mean by detaining my carriage, sir? Go -away, sir, and shut the door, and allow my carriage to proceed. This -lady is with me.” -</p> - -<p> -She might be, but not intentionally, and the even dim suggestion that -she was, was sufficient to settle the question on the spot. I paid no -attention to him whatever. I addressed myself solely and entirely to -the brown man. -</p> - -<p> -“So kind of you to take so much trouble, and so sweet of your sister -to let me have her carriage. I expect that the mistake was mine.” -Though, considering the care she had taken to particularise the -vehicle which I was to enter, I did not see how that could be, but -that was by the way. “If I may intrude.” -</p> - -<p> -I proceeded to descend. My ancient companion endeavoured to stop me. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear young lady, don’t leave me—only too delighted—take you -anywhere!” Then he descended to the vernacular, altogether oblivious -of the solemn truth that the fact of his having nearly, if not quite, -attained to the Psalmist’s span should have induced him to pay some -regard to the proprieties. “It’s hard lines your throwing me over like -this—uncommonly hard lines—especially considering the row I’m booked -for anyhow. I don’t call it a ladylike thing to do!” -</p> - -<p> -His notions of what was, and of what was not, a ladylike thing to do -were probably so distinctly his own that they could hardly be expected -to interest me. At any rate, they did not. I just crossed over to the -brown man’s sister’s carriage, and left him to formulate—I believe -that is the proper word, but if not I cannot help it—his views on -ladies and things at his leisure. -</p> - -<p> -It was an odd sensation passing from one brougham to the other. -Broughams with us are represented by vehicles from the livery stables. -People sometimes, indeed often, take mamma and the girls in their -broughams; but no one, since I was the merest child, ever betrayed the -slightest desire to take me—not even to play the part of gooseberry. -This unwonted actual anxiety to place absolutely charming conveyances -at my disposal was most refreshing—to say no more. I had already been -in a private omnibus—which, after all, was not so bad; in that bad -old man’s wife’s carriage—which was a pet; and now I was in the most -scrumptious little vehicle you could possibly imagine—and all in the -course of a single evening. If I progressed at this rate I might find -myself riding in the Lord Mayor’s coach before I went to bed. -</p> - -<p> -Before many moments had elapsed, however, it began to dawn upon me -that, so far as company was concerned, from certainly one point of -view, I might not have made an altogether felicitous exchange. The -brown man moved in seven-league boots. Compared to the rapidity of his -advance, my previous companion had merely stumbled along. But then, of -course, he was very much older. -</p> - -<p> -We had been bowling along in silence, and I was beginning to wonder if -I could possibly be in for a Quaker’s meeting, when my new companion -put an end to any fears I might have had on that point by saying, in -the calmest voice in the world, the sort of voice in which he would -have referred to the possibility of a shower of rain: -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder if we can get married in the morning.” -</p> - -<p> -I jumped, not boisterously, perhaps, but I certainly did jump. -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon?” I observed. -</p> - -<p> -“I say that I was wondering if we can get married in the morning. My -uncle’s the Bishop of Battersea. I believe that you can get special -licences from Bishops and persons of that sort while you wait. I’ve a -suspicion that he turns in early: he’s that kind of character. The -question is, whether I shall assail him at this hour of the night, or -rout him out with the milk in the morning—which would he dislike -least? I don’t want to hurt the poor dear man’s feelings more than I -can help.” -</p> - -<p> -It was as if a drop of ice-cold water had gone trickling down my -spinal column. I had to shiver. Could the brown man be insane? And so -good-looking! I endeavoured—if such were the case—to lead him back -to lines of comparative sanity. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s wonderfully good of your sister to lend me her beautiful -carriage.” -</p> - -<p> -His answer did startle me. -</p> - -<p> -“She didn’t. Don’t suppose it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—she offered it to me herself.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s her artfulness. Louisa is artful. When I told her I wanted her -brougham—for you; her brougham gives the thing an air—she said she’d -see me farther first. So, when I went off to nobble it, waylaying you, -she carted you off in someone else’s. Very neat indeed—Louisa’s no -fool.” -</p> - -<p> -This statement of the facts of the case, as they appeared to him, took -my breath away. It might be true. -</p> - -<p> -“Then am I to understand that your sister does not know that I am in -her brougham?” -</p> - -<p> -“She knows. You may bet on Louisa’s knowing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then am I here contrary to her wish?” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the use of worrying about trifles? never do. What’s troubling -me is the much more serious question as to whether we can be married -in the morning. The Bishop’s an unmanageable creature. Used to be my -tutor. Short of throwing things at him, you never could get him to -behave with decency. You can’t throw things at a Bishop. It’s not good -form. Do you know anything about that sort of thing?” -</p> - -<p> -“About what sort of thing?” -</p> - -<p> -“Special licences, and so on.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you have the kindness to ask your coachman to stop the next cab -we come to, and I will get into it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I say! Really! You mustn’t talk like that!” -</p> - -<p> -“It seems to me very much as if I must talk like that. I appear to be -riding in your sister’s carriage against her wish, and you certainly -are talking in a strain which would seem to hint at there being -something the matter with your mental balance. I should be sorry to -seem discourteous, but I prefer a cab.” -</p> - -<p> -He looked at me with his impertinent eyes in a way which made me -thrill all over. It is entirely impossible for a person like me—who -hardly knows one end of a pen from the other, and does not want to—to -give an adequate impression of the perfectly charming way in which he -said the most ridiculous and disgraceful things. I had every intention -and desire to be angry, but I had to smile. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the unreasonableness of the world. Everybody—including -Louisa, who practically is everybody—has been urging me for ever so -long to marry. But I have felt that I had a vocation. Women have -seemed to me to be good for everything but marrying. Louisa weeps. -Then, to-night, when I see you at the Imperial, I not only fall in -love with you—which is nothing, because I am constantly falling in -love and out again—but I am seized with an instant conviction that -marriage is my vocation. I rush after you to the theatre, where Louisa -has a box. I say to her, ‘Louisa, I am going to do as you wish, I am -about to marry!’ She gives a movement which may or may not signify -satisfaction, and ejaculates, ‘No!’ I retort, ‘Yes! there is the lady -who is to be my wife!’ And I point you out to her in your place in the -stalls. She focusses you with her glass, and exclaims ‘Good heavens!’ -Then adds, ‘Who is she?’ ‘I have not the faintest notion who she is,’ -I explain, ‘I only know that she is going to be—my wife.’ Louisa -looks up at me and demands, ‘Are you mad?’ There—to return to my -former position—is the unreasonableness of the world. Louisa hints -insanity because I am unable to accede to her wishes; when I am, she -calls me mad. I ask you if there is any reason why you should not be -my wife?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather! To enter for a moment into your mood—is there any reason why -I should?” -</p> - -<p> -“Manifold obvious reasons. First, I love, which is a bourgeois reason -perhaps. Then, I am rich, which again is a little bourgeois; but still -sound reason. I am young, sound of mind, hale of body, not -ill-looking, of decent reputation, easy temper. Happiness is but a -word, meaning different things in different mouths. Yet it’s but the -simple truth that I can offer you all that the heart of a woman can -desire—when she marries.” -</p> - -<p> -“You seem to have a tolerable opinion of yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why not? Yet I have a higher opinion still of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I doubt it. I am wondering if you are supposing that I have recently -escaped from a lunatic asylum, or if it is the fact that you have.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t say that you see sanity only in the commonplace. That were to -rank yourself too violently with Louisa.” -</p> - -<p> -“And this is Louisa’s carriage, if, as you pretend, that is your -sister’s name. I have already asked you to let me get out of it into a -cab. Where is the man driving? I don’t believe that this is the way to -Kensington.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why should it be the way to Kensington?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why! Because I live there. Didn’t you hear the address I gave you?” -</p> - -<p> -“But my address is in Berkeley Square.” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Your</i> address! What has <i>your</i> address to do with me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Since it is also to be yours, does not the question seem a trifle -crude?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your address is to be mine? What do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“I trust that you are sufficiently old-fashioned to consent to share -your husband’s home.” -</p> - -<p> -“My husband’s home! Have you dared to tell the man to drive me to your -house?” -</p> - -<p> -“The notion’s this: that you will consent to accept the shelter of my -roof while I rout out the Bishop, so that we may be married in the -morning. It may seem to be pressing matters on a trifle hastily, to -ask you to permit yourself to be ‘wooed and married and all’ inside of -half-a-dozen hours. But I’ve a feeling strong upon me that this is a -business which were well done if it were done quickly. If we delay -there’ll be a hundred thousand reasons buzzing about our ears, to -sting us as if they were mosquitoes. While, if we’re married, there’ll -be no sting left in them. They’ll only buzz. And of that they’ll soon -grow tired.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe that you’re stark mad. You’re worse than that wicked old -man. And I thought you were a gentleman. Will you tell the -coachman—at once!—to drive me straight home.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, permit me to ask your name. It’s a disadvantage to a -man not to know the name of the lady he’s about to marry.” -</p> - -<p> -“I certainly will not tell you my name. Will you do as I ask you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am your devoted slave, only do not treat me with too much -harshness. This is a critical moment in my life: my fate hangs in the -balance. Let us approach the consideration of our respective destinies -with dispassionate calmness, with open minds. Let us be careful to -avoid anything which may have the appearance of heat.” -</p> - -<p> -As I caught his eye, I was surer than ever that he was laughing at me. -He might have been an altogether delightful individual—I am offering -no suggestion that he was not; but his barefaced impudence and brazen -audacity were beyond anything I had ever conceived as possible. I saw -that I should find myself in a pretty position if I did not look -out—and quickly too. I had had such a dry-as-dust existence; here was -the promise of adventure, if you liked. And I do not mind owning that -there flashed through my mind a wild idea of seeing the adventure to a -finish, of trusting him, of allowing him to take the arbitrament of my -fate in his two hands, if that avuncular Bishop could only be -persuaded to prove amenable—of permitting him to marry me in the -morning. What a courtship it would have been! and what a wedding! What -a nine days’ wonder! What would the girls have said? and mamma? and -the five—particularly Walter Hammond, when he learnt how somebody -else had taken a leaf out of his very own book, and made the running -with a vengeance? His sister’s face—what sort of an expression would -have been on that when she learnt the use which had been made of her -brougham?—and what kind of an opinion would she have had of me? -</p> - -<p> -He was a very magnetic person—by far the most magnetic I ever had -encountered. As one became more and more conscious of his supremely -attractive personality—as one could not help but do—there was -something fascinating even about his topsy-turvy way of putting -things. If I had surrendered myself to the magic of his influence, -what would have happened? What would have been the issue of the -night’s adventures? If I had! But I did not. I gave myself, as it -were, a mental pinch, and I put my head out of the window, and I -called to the driver. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch22"> -CHAPTER XXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">I BEHAVE LIKE A GOOSE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Coachman</span>!” I cried. The driver reined in his horse. “Where are you -taking me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Home, my lady.” -</p> - -<p> -“Home? To whose home? To my home?” -</p> - -<p> -“To His Grace’s, my lady—Chelmsford House.” -</p> - -<p> -He called me “my lady,” and spoke of “His Grace,” and of Chelmsford -House. Then the brown man must be the Duke of Chelmsford? No woman can -suddenly awake to the fact that she has been in the society of a real -live duke—and such a duke—without becoming conscious of a singular -something. I withdrew my head from the window with a sort of spasmodic -rush. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you the Duke of Chelmsford?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am; and hope that you will shortly be the Duchess.” -</p> - -<p> -The Duchess! the Duchess of Chelmsford! the consort of the richest -duke in the world, and, as my own eyes told me—the very handsomest; -the queen of English society—palaces and lands just everywhere—the -world at my feet, ready, willing, eager to do me homage—me! Small -wonder that everything seemed all at once to be going round. Was it -possible that the greatest of life’s prizes—from every sensible -woman’s point of view—was being offered me? that I was actually being -entreated to accept it? This was something like an adventure. -</p> - -<p> -The brown man’s—I mean the Duke’s—voice came to my still startled -ear. -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll find being a Duchess rather a bore. The natural boredom, to -which all flesh is heir, will afflict you in an accentuated form. But -you’ll get used to it. Use is by way of being a universal panacea. -Then you’ll discover that it’s a sort of boredom which you have rather -grown to like. My mother used to say she had.” -</p> - -<p> -I turned the handle of the door, and, without a word, stepped out into -the road. So soon as I stood upright I realised that I was trembling -from head to foot. I wondered, hazily, if I was going to be silly; -dimly aware that it was an absurdly inconvenient place in which to -make a fuss. Instantly the brown man—I mean the Duke—was at my side. -</p> - -<p> -“Why have you got out here? You prefer to walk the remainder of the -distance? It’s fine for walking. My house—our house—is but over the -way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you please tell me where is the nearest place at which I can -find a cab?” -</p> - -<p> -I know little of that part of London. Especially is it strange to me -at night. We seemed to be in a great square, with huge houses all -round it, and a fine wide road, which, apparently, we had all to -ourselves. -</p> - -<p> -“We shall not need one, it is but a step.” Then, I suppose, he -perceived that I was looking queer, because all at once his tone -became solicitous. “May I beg you to accept my arm. Has anything -distressed you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I want a cab,” was all that I could murmur. -</p> - -<p> -What he would have said I do not know. Before he could speak another -brougham came bowling along. It stopped just by us, and out of it—of -all persons in the world—walked that wicked old man. He marched -straight up to where we were standing—as if he had the slightest -ground for interference. What he imagined had occurred I, of course, -cannot say; but he addressed us in a truly remarkable strain. -</p> - -<p> -“Just what I expected—knew I should find this sort of thing going on. -If you had asked me, you would have been warned in time. You young -people are never able to judge for yourselves whom you can trust. Now, -my dear young lady, you would have seen how much wiser you would have -been if you had remained with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who is this gentleman?” inquired the Duke. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know who he is—I don’t want to have anything to do with -him—he’s no acquaintance of mine—I wish he’d go away!” -</p> - -<p> -That old man actually dared to pretend to be hurt by my repudiation of -him. -</p> - -<p> -“There now, listen to that! And, for all I know, my wife’s still -standing on the pavement waiting for her carriage; while, at this hour -of the night, I’ve been following this ungrateful girl in it like -a—like a—like a true friend. And I arrive at the moment when the -protection of a true friend is most needed, and this is the welcome I -receive. There’s nothing so ungrateful as a young girl—especially -when gratitude is owing to a man of my years. But, my dear young lady, -I will forgive you everything; so come back to my carriage and don’t -let us trouble this young gentleman any further.” -</p> - -<p> -His fingers fastened about my arm. I shrunk back. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t touch me.” -</p> - -<p> -The Duke, placing himself between us, spoke to that horrid old wretch. -</p> - -<p> -“Have the goodness not to allow us to detain you any longer.” -</p> - -<p> -I believe there would have been a scene before we could have got rid -of him, because, so far as I could see, he showed no sign of budging, -and every second I was growing queerer and queerer. Something inside -of me seemed to have escaped from my control, so that I could not pull -myself together and behave like a reasonable being. Just as I was -beginning to be afraid that I should have to sit down in the middle of -the road, or do something else equally insane, up dashed another -vehicle. I believe it was a hansom cab, but as I was seeing everything -through a kind of mist, I could not be sure. Anyhow, out of it jumped -the brown man’s sister. I thought her voice, as it reached my dulling -ears, was the pleasantest I had heard that night. After all, there is -nothing like a woman, when you have had enough of men. -</p> - -<p> -“So I’ve found you, have I? Pray, what’s doing now? Bernard, what -fresh freak are you indulging in?” -</p> - -<p> -“Louisa, will you take this lady to Chelmsford House. I fear she’s -feeling tired. There are a few words which I must say to this -gentleman.” -</p> - -<p> -I felt the brown man’s sister’s arm go round my waist; it was so nice. -</p> - -<p> -“Tired? You poor child! You’ve upset her with your nonsense. Bernard! -quick! help me with her to the carriage. Who are all these people who -are coming?” -</p> - -<p> -“All these people” were the five. They came clattering up -together—the four in the omnibus, Walter Hammond alone in a hansom -cab. I fancy that there was a fine to-do. But it was lost on me. For -the first time in my life I was behaving like a goose—in the Duke of -Chelmsford’s arms. -</p> - -<p> -So I rode home in the brown man’s sister’s brougham. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch23"> -CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">“UNTIL?”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">And</span> what a time I did have of it when I did get home, attended by an -entire retinue. Mamma was sitting up for me, and Audrey, and also -Jane. What a sensation my arrival caused, and were there not alarms -and excursions. It must have been a singular procession, especially -when one considers that for our part of the world it was a trifle -late. I with the brown man’s sister in her brougham, the Duke in his -sister’s cab, Walter Hammond in his own hansom, that bad old man in -his wife’s carriage—he insisted on following in that injured female’s -vehicle to my very doorstep,—the four in their omnibus. I daresay -that remarks were made which would have been worth reporting. But I -was beyond the reporting stage. -</p> - -<p> -Was I not glad to find myself alone again in my own shabby little -bedroom, and rid of Jane. It was not an easy task to be rid of Jane. -Had I not got my foot against the door the instant I was through it, I -should hardly have been rid of her at all. As it was, she tapped -unceasingly at the panels, imploring from without to be allowed to -assist me to undress. She had assisted me to dress; that was -sufficient, at any rate, for me. But it was no use telling her so; in -tones which grew more and more lachrymose she continued to entreat for -some time after I had declined to indulge in further parley. -</p> - -<p> -What a relief it was to sit on the edge of the bed and get Jane’s -shoes off—at last! I should have liked to have dropped on to the -counterpane, and gone to sleep just as I was; I was so tired. When one -is accustomed to retire early—I was generally in bed and fast asleep -hours before the others were—and to no excitement, to have so much -excitement crammed into a single night is fatiguing. I know I found it -so. It was only because my conscience would not let me get into bed -with my clothes on that I undressed at all. As I struggled with -refractory tapes and buttons—and they were all refractory then—I -told myself that I was an idiot to allow myself to be a slave to -habit, and call it conscience, when my eyes would not keep open. -</p> - -<p> -Yet when I got into bed, with my clothes honestly off, I could not -sleep. I suppose I was over-tired. I certainly was over-tired. Like a -constantly shifting phantasmagoria, the events of the night passed -backwards and forwards through my brain. It was such an upheaval of -the whole course of nature that I should be courted, a thing to be -desired by men. Since what time? Since, say three o’clock, the whole -world, so far as I was concerned, had been turned upside down; the -order of nature had been changed, a miracle had been worked—I had -become all those things which I had never been before. That it was no -delusion, I, and others, had had assurance enough and to spare. I had -seen it in the way in which men looked at me, in the way in which they -spoke to me, hunted me when they could. In plain English, it seemed as -if I had acquired a sudden capacity to drive men mad. I had always -suspected that not much was required to do that. Now it appeared that -it only needed me. There was proof plain as Holy Writ that the writing -on the paper—— -</p> - -<p> -At the thought of the scrap of paper, I was out of bed again in half a -twinkling, nearly wide awake. Where was it? I re-lit the gas, looked -for it, found it still among the litter on the dressing-table. There -was the mystic, magic, incredible sentence, in the small clear -writing, which somehow reminded me of the writing in which they put -one’s name upon one’s visiting-card. -</p> - -<p> -“Your wish shall be gratified until——” -</p> - -<p> -“Until?” -</p> - -<p> -Why, surely, when I saw it last no “until” was there. It certainly was -not when I saw it first. Was the sentence really still being written? -Then the scribe was pretty slow. If such were the case what was to -follow after “until”? -</p> - -<p> -“Until”—satiety ensued, and I had had enough of it? Could I turn off -my power at pleasure, and, having done so, turn it on again? How? -Would the secret of that somewhat delicate operation also be revealed? -“Until”—I was married? I might be married in a few hours, if I chose, -to the Duke of Chelmsford, that deliciously impertinent brown man. -Should I not be able to crow over mamma and the girls if I were? Would -it not be a magnificent instance of Cinderella up-to-date? Though no -one could speak of the girls as “ugly sisters.” “Until”—I was old? -Some people might regard twenty-two as old. I myself sometimes feel as -if bowed down by the weight of years. What was the period in life at -which it was universally agreed that folks were old, even by the folks -themselves? I knew that mamma considered herself quite young. If it -were left to me to fix the age at which I might be reckoned old, I -might say after the expiration of a century, and, even from the little -I had seen of things, I believe that some people esteemed themselves -comparatively juvenile even then. Fancy men of all ranks and ages -making love to a real old lady! Would it not be dreadful? “Until”—I -died? I was not sure that I should like to be regarded as an object of -desire by every male creature I encountered, quite until the end. I -might have had a great deal more than enough of them long ere that. -Especially if they continued to press themselves upon me as eagerly as -they had done that night. Indeed, it was extremely probable, if only -death could put a period to their persecution, that I might welcome -with rapture a suicide’s grave. -</p> - -<p> -I put out the gas again, and, with the scrap of paper between my -fingers, returned to bed, the problem of the unfinished sentence yet -unsolved. And I have a vague idea that I fell fast asleep as soon as I -was between the sheets a second time—the missing words still missing. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch24"> -CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE FINISHED SENTENCE</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">For</span> some moments I could not think what had happened. I had just -been eloping with the Duke of Chelmsford, and because several men had -maintained that he ought to do nothing of the kind, he had put me in -his pocket—which was not anything like large enough—and thrown -Jane’s crimson shoes into his sister’s face, who had thereupon changed -into a horse—with Walter Hammond’s head, on which he had sprung; and, -galloping down the racecourse, had dragged me from his pocket—with -much difficulty!—and married me in the middle of the grand stand. I -felt, even in my sleep, that this was a surprising way for a person to -behave, and that I had a grievance, when all at once I became -conscious of Audrey’s face bent over my bed, and of the fact that she -was shaking me. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know what time it is?” I did not, and did not care. I fancy I -signified as much. “It’s half-past eleven, and already people have -come to see you.” Still I was indifferent: as yet the statement -conveyed no meaning. “How are you feeling?” -</p> - -<p> -“Cheap.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s lack of experience, my dear. Though it’s true that the more -expensive a night one has, the more economical one feels in the -morning—especially, I fancy, when it’s a woman in the case. Though -I’ve known men who suffered. But you did have a good time—didn’t -you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t ask me. I suppose I did—but—at present—I’m not quite sure. -It was a little nightmarey.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey was still. Although my eyes were closed I was oddly conscious -that hers were searching my face with a curious scrutiny. And, -somehow, I seemed to know that what she saw there made her sorry, but -whether for herself or for me I could not tell. -</p> - -<p> -“I fancy that everyone must have been a wee bit mad—yesterday.” -</p> - -<p> -There was an inflection in her voice which caused me to look up. -</p> - -<p> -“Mad? Yes; I think they must have been!” -</p> - -<p> -“Some of Puck’s magic powder must have got into their eyes, so that -they saw things as they did in that wood near Athens. Perhaps they’ll -have got it out to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps.” -</p> - -<p> -Again she looked at me, and, as I was looking at her, this time I saw -that there was trouble in her eyes, trouble which seemed to grow as -she looked. Stooping, she kissed me, saying something which I did not -understand at all. -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind, Norah; we’ve all got our burdens to bear. It’s a pretty -hard world for feminine things. Shall I tell those people you cannot -see them, that you’re not feeling well? You don’t seem quite up to the -mark, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Am I looking ill?” -</p> - -<p> -“No—not ill—exactly. You’re like your ordinary self: and—last -night—you hardly were.” -</p> - -<p> -This time something in her words, her tone, her manner, did give me a -hint of what it was she meant. As I began to perceive what it was she -wanted me to understand I became conscious of a tightness about the -region of the heart, as if it had been suddenly weighted with lead. -She saw it was so, because she kissed me again. -</p> - -<p> -“Shall I send them away?” -</p> - -<p> -While I hesitated, because the thought which she had presented to my -mind had left me for the moment speechless, mamma came into the room. -The instant she spoke, it was plain that she had heard what Audrey had -said: -</p> - -<p> -“They won’t go,” she began. “I can’t think what people are coming to -nowadays—never saw such manners in my life—if those men were -crossing-sweepers they could not behave worse!—and I’m not sure that -some of them are much better! One of them has the assurance to call -himself the Duke of Chelmsford. Quite apart from anything else, the -fact of his being so extremely good-looking proclaims him an impostor. -All dukes are notoriously ugly. Norah, I insist upon your telling me -what is the meaning of these proceedings.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey answered for me. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear mamma, since Norah is scarcely awake I can’t see how you can -expect her to explain what she herself as yet knows nothing about.” -</p> - -<p> -Mamma pretended to be angry with Audrey, which was a most unusual -thing, for no one was ever angry with Audrey long. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no use your endeavouring to palliate Norah’s conduct, Audrey—I -won’t have it!—I have had too much of it already!—I don’t like the -attitude you have taken up in the matter!—it doesn’t become you! -Norah’s behaviour is beyond my comprehension—look at the scene last -night! And now here are these men—strange men!—at this unseemly hour -of the morning, demanding to see her as if they were presenting a -pistol at my head. I will not keep silent and allow scandal to be -brought upon my house. Tell me at once, Norah, who is this person who -calls himself the Duke of Chelmsford?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is the Duke of Chelmsford, mamma.” -</p> - -<p> -“How do you know? And how did you become acquainted with him, if he -is—you, of all the people in the world?” -</p> - -<p> -“He introduced himself to me last night.” -</p> - -<p> -“Introduced himself to you!—a man in his position!—to you! Where -were those other men that such a thing should have been possible?” -</p> - -<p> -I sighed, at least I made a noise which I suppose may be described as -a sigh, though it has always seemed to me to be rather a poetic word -to apply to the sort of gasping sound one makes when one feels that -other people are just a trifle stupid. -</p> - -<p> -“It would take me a good time to explain, mamma, and then perhaps you -wouldn’t understand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, though that’s a remark which no girl ought to make to her -mother, I daresay it’s true enough; the whole thing’s beyond my -understanding. Ever since yesterday afternoon I’ve been asking myself -if the whole world’s gone mad. And now that I look at you I ask myself -more than ever. No man has ever seen anything in you except two eyes -and a nose, and now what they think they see in you all of a sudden is -beyond me altogether. What you say about her having changed, Audrey, -is just nonsense, except it’s changed for the worse—unless you wish -to insinuate that my eyesight’s failing me. She’s always been a plain -girl—the only one of my family!—and she’s a plain woman—without -even that kind of plainness which is interesting. And what you wish me -to understand by talking about her having changed sufficiently to -account for the behaviour of those men, as I say, unless I’m going -blind, it’s balderdash you’re talking. She’s a fright, just that, and -nothing more; and it’s a bad day when I, her mother, that never had a -child except her that wasn’t fit for framing—have to say it.” -</p> - -<p> -During the utterance of these very outspoken remarks, I knew—although -I was not looking—that Audrey was making signs to mamma to be a -little careful in her choice of words; signs which, apparently, mamma -preferred to ignore—feeling, possibly, that, under the circumstances, -to spare my feelings was to spoil the child. When mamma had quite -finished then I did turn towards Audrey, and when I caught her eyes -she smiled, there was no mistake about her being a picture well worth -framing! -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind what mamma says,” she whispered. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t,” I replied, with perfect candour, and equal truth. “I never -do.” -</p> - -<p> -Of course the confession was not lost upon mamma. -</p> - -<p> -“If I’d spoken to my mother like that, in her presence, she’d have -beaten me; but, in those days, daughters used to look upon a mother as -a parent. Now, she might as well be the cattle in the field. And the -consequences of it will be, Norah O’Brady, that you may as well go -clerking, or companion to an old lady, or something equally as -degrading to your father’s child, for all the chances you’ll ever have -of getting decently settled in life—in spite of all the half-witted -men who’re invading my house at this time of the morning. And what it -is that I’m to do with them, I’d like to know.” -</p> - -<p> -Audrey repeated the question which I had left unanswered. -</p> - -<p> -“Shall I send them away?” -</p> - -<p> -I hesitated, searching her face for what was written on it. It was -with a fresh sinking of the heart that I understood, or thought I did. -</p> - -<p> -“No; let them wait. I will be as quick as I can, and come down to -them. It will be better to get it over.” -</p> - -<p> -She stooped down and whispered in my ear, so that, this time, I was -the only one who heard: -</p> - -<p> -“Men are the least dependable of all God’s creatures. You mustn’t -mind.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a cryptic utterance—to those who were without the key, which I -fancied that I had. She took mamma away with her. I was left alone. -</p> - -<p> -The instant they were gone I brought up, from between the sheets, a -scrap of paper—<i>the</i> scrap. I had taken it with me to bed. All night -long, it seemed, I had held it in my hand, clutched between my -fingers. I had thought of it the moment I supposed myself to have an -idea of Audrey’s meaning; and, feeling it there, had realised how -close a neighbour it had been while I had slept. It was all crumpled. -I smoothed it out, and looked. The writing had grown faint; so faint -as to suggest that the writer must have used ink of a very evanescent -quality. Already, here and there, the words could scarcely be -deciphered. -</p> - -<p> -But the sentence was finished! -</p> - -<p> -How, while I had slept, the finish had been arrived at, or by whom, I -could not tell. The result was unmistakable. My doom stared me in the -face; my forebodings were realised; the meaning of what I had seen in -Audrey’s eyes, heard in her voice, was made quite plain. -</p> - -<p> -“Your wish shall be gratified until to-morrow.” -</p> - -<p> -“To-morrow” had been the missing word—that was, to-day. My wish was -to be gratified until to-day, which meant that all the gratification I -was to receive—so far as that particular wish was concerned—I had -already had. What was my wish exactly? I should not have liked to have -had to answer the question on my oath. I had been talking pretty -wildly at the time! But, so far as I could remember, I wished that all -men—every man—might fall in love with me at sight. As, lying there, -in cold blood—metaphorically, in very cold blood, indeed!—I -endeavoured to recall it, as accurately as I could, what a singular -wish it seemed, to say the very least! -</p> - -<p> -And it had been gratified? And now it was done with? Dear! dear! what -a very short span of enjoyment had been allotted me. What a very small -result the boon which had been conferred had ended in. Was that the -meaning of the feeling I was conscious of—that I had returned again -to what I was? It certainly was true that I was oppressed by an -apprehension, which was near akin to fear, that since last night -something had been lost, that something had gone from me, which I had -when I laid down to sleep—gone, never to return. What could it be? It -was not that I was ill, or tired, or—as I had pretended to -Audrey—even cheap. It was nothing half so commonplace. -</p> - -<p> -I got out of bed, and, as I did so, I felt that virtue had gone from -me; life, that ichor of the gods which had been in my veins last night -instead of blood. I had hit it—I was as one of the gods—the writer -of the sentence on that scrap of paper alone knew how—and was again -but mortal. Between sleeping and waking, I had come down the Olympian -hill, slung down, rather, been kicked down, perhaps, amid the jeers -and jesting of the rightful inhabitants; and at the very, very foot -was once more—Norah O’Brady. -</p> - -<p> -I needed not the assurance of the mirror. Had I done so, I had it, -beyond all possibility of controverting. The face I saw in it was the -one I had always seen; not the one that had seemed to blaze at me -yester afternoon. The light had gone from the eyes; the flare, a mere -glimpse of which—as, somehow, I had known—would set the most -sluggish blood in masculine veins flaming as with fire; and, with it, -all had gone. There was but left the plain, uninteresting, -undistinguished, unintellectual face of overgrown Norah O’Brady. -</p> - -<p> -I dressed. How shabby my things did seem, unusually shabby, even for -me. Ill-shaped, ill-fitting, with about them, every one, that -exasperating suggestion of having been intended for someone else. -Always, everything I had, seemed to shout at me, with furious -grievance, that it might have looked presentable if only it had been -worn by a creature different entirely to me. If they had only let me -choose my own things, and, regardless of what was, or was not, the -mode, have permitted me to clothe myself in the garments in which I -looked least awkward; at any rate, my actual deficiencies might not -have been quite so obtrusive. But, in continual parodies of the -fashions of the moment—which went very well with them, but, oh! so -horribly with me—what a fright they made me look. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch25"> -CHAPTER XXV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BROWN MAN’S APOLOGY</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">As</span> I went down the stairs, dressed—if you could call it dressed—at -last, how hideously conscious I was that I presented a spectacle of -all that was least desirable in womanhood. Long familiarity with the -fact had hardened me. I take it that no feminine thing becomes -completely reconciled to the accident that she is not physically -prepossessing. Women who are plain sometimes do not realise their -plainness. I daresay that is true. Or they may cherish a hope that, in -the eyes of someone, some day, they may not be plain. If, fatherless, -brotherless, they live with five lovely sisters, and a still -good-looking mother—who esteems beauty the only thing which is worth -a woman’s having—both these consolations will be denied them. Long -before they have reached years of maturity, they will have learnt, -with that absolute certainty of conviction which leaves no room -whatever for doubt, that they are ugly ducklings, and that, for such -as they, this world has no good things; that, indeed, it is as sure as -that the sky is above the earth, that none but idiots, or worse, will -ever esteem them for themselves alone. And, though they become -accustomed to this knowledge, and so pachydermatous, in a sense, there -are occasions when the actualities of their position are as pin-pricks -to make them wince as eagerly as if their skins had never been tanned, -by the laying on of innumerable stripes, into hide at all. -</p> - -<p> -The descent of the stairs which divided my bedroom from the -drawing-room was one of those occasions. Worse luck for me. In the -drawing-room were the men who had been the worshippers of the girl who -was—last night; come, at that matutinal hour, to render her the -proofs of their devotion. Going to them was the girl who was to-day; -that grotesque caricature of the being they had known, and of whom -they apparently still dreamed. Clearly, it was doubtful if this was a -case in which they would perceive that it was “better to have loved -and lost, than never to have loved at all.” No man cherishes a -sentimental pang when he discovers that he has been deluded into -loving a female Bottom in an ass’s head. The humour of the situation -would probably appeal to them so much more strongly than to me. -</p> - -<p> -Half-way down I encountered Jane, who, I rather suspect, had been -keeping herself handy in the possible expectation of such an -encounter. At sight of me she gave a jump. -</p> - -<p> -“Lor’! Miss Norah, whatever has come to you! I shouldn’t hardly ever -have known you; you look so different—really, I shouldn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I look different? How?” -</p> - -<p> -I was curious to learn how the matter appeared to her. Her way of -seeing it might be as a straw to guide me as to the quarter from which -I might expect the wind to blow in the interview to which I was -advancing. Her eyes travelled over my features in stolid, observant -fashion, as if she were searching out the peculiarities of a wooden -figurehead. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, miss, I couldn’t hardly say—I really couldn’t; though such -a difference I never see. It’s more than a difference; you don’t seem -as if you was the same person—that you don’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I assure you that I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, Miss Norah, but that you aren’t—you are not, really. -Leastways, not so far as looks is concerned. If you could see yourself -as you looked last night, and as you looks now, you yourself wouldn’t -say you was the same—I don’t believe you would, really.” -</p> - -<p> -It was encouraging to receive such a testimonial from Jane, especially -as on her countenance sincerity was written large, and surprise, and, -I rather fancied—it might have been only fancy, but I doubt -it—disappointment too. If the alteration were so apparent to Jane, -the not inhumanly critical, with what appalling obviousness would they -not strike the keen-sighted gentlemen who awaited me in the -drawing-room, and whose voices I already heard. The same reflection -actually occurred to the handmaid of the crimson slippers—at the -recollection of their splendours they still seemed to pinch me. -</p> - -<p> -“Whatever them there gentlemen will say when they see you looking like -that, Miss Norah, I can’t think; and there is a few of ’em. There’s a -bald-headed old party what give me a sovereign to show him in without -announcing him.” -</p> - -<p> -“A bald-headed old party?” -</p> - -<p> -“‘Never mind my name,’ he says. ‘You show me straight in without -announcing me, and here’s a sovereign for you.’ So I showed him in, -because sovereigns aren’t lying about all over the place, not in this -house they aren’t. Though I should like to know what he thinks he’s -after, with no more hair on his head than a yellow Bramah egg.” -</p> - -<p> -I felt that I also should like to know. Was it possible that that -hoary reprobate had not yet repented of his last night’s misdoings. -Jane went on to say something which nearly caused me to tumble down -the remainder of the stairs. -</p> - -<p> -“But the one that takes my fancy is him with the moustaches. Now, he -is something like a man. If he’d been took clean out of a picture he -couldn’t have been more what he ought to be.” -</p> - -<p> -“With the moustaches?” -</p> - -<p> -My thoughts recurred to the Duke of Chelmsford. Was he, in Jane’s -estimation, something like a man? But it seemed that I was on the -wrong scent. -</p> - -<p> -“Him with the moustaches what turns up at the ends like as if they was -ramrods. If he isn’t a soldier it ain’t for want of looking it. -Splendid, I call him. Then look at the height of him—regular -monument, as you might say. And that straight! Then them there eyes of -his!—ain’t they eyes? I never! When they looked at me they made me go -all over—really they did. And I’ve not got over the feeling now—that -I haven’t. It’s my opinion, and always has been, that some of them -foreign men is better grown than some of our English.” -</p> - -<p> -“Foreign men?” -</p> - -<p> -A premonitory something was beginning to chill me about the centre of -the back. -</p> - -<p> -“He speaks with a foreign accent—lovely accent, I call it—that -musical. And he’s got a way about him which makes you think, for all -his being such a great big giant of a man, that if he was to take you -in his arms he would be tender.” -</p> - -<p> -“Jane! You shouldn’t say such things!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, miss, I am but human, as the saying is; and if I was going into -the drawing-room to see a man like him, rather than look a fright I’d -put something on my face, or do something to myself somehow, for look -different to what you’re looking now that I would—no matter how I -done it.” -</p> - -<p> -With those last words of cheering advice Jane passed up the stairs, -presumably to pursue her professional avocations. She would never have -dared to say such a thing to one of the girls, but to me it always -seems that everyone says just anything. That splendid person, with the -moustaches turned up at the ends like ramrods, and the eyes, and the -foreign accent—could he be that imposing dignitary of the Imperial -Hotel? Had he had the audacity to trace me to my own home—and call on -me? A waiter! What a cosmopolitan assembly appeared to be gathered -together in the drawing-room. -</p> - -<p> -The voices within seemed raised. Walter Hammond’s and Basil Carter’s -voices were very audible. I fancied I heard also the “lovely” accent -of which Jane had spoken. Mamma was unmistakable. It appeared that an -argument was taking place inside, which was growing warmer by rapid -degrees, with the promise of becoming, at an early moment, absolutely -hot. Just as I reached the door, and was about to turn the handle, it -was opened from within, with something of a flourish. I chose to take -it as having been opened for me, and walked straight in. -</p> - -<p> -My appearance created a sensation, that I needed no one to tell me. -Still less did I need to be told that it was a sensation of a curious -kind. An argument had been taking place which bore a tolerable -imitation to something else. That was plain. It seemed probable that -pressure had been brought to bear upon the dignitary of the Imperial -Hotel to induce him to take himself away, and that that pressure had -been applied in vain. Basil Carter had his hand upon the door-knob, -his air suggesting something more than command, while there was -something in Walter Hammond’s attitude which hinted at measures of a -distinctly vigorous kind. Had I not arrived just then, I am inclined -to think that steps would very shortly have been taken to bring that -dignitary of the Imperial Hotel to a proper sense of his position. -Considering his physique, it is tolerably certain that those who -undertook the task of persuasion might have found that there were -difficulties in the way. So far as I could judge—and I had pretty -good opportunities—he was not the least collected person present. -When I entered, he stood about the centre of the room, his hat and -stick in one hand, a bunch of flowers in the other. Even in height he -towered above Walter Hammond, who was no dwarf, while, so far as girth -went, he would easily have made two of any of the others. He was -smiling on his company, and I am afraid even on mamma, in a manner -which was hardly deferential; but when he saw me he commenced to -salute me with a bow of the deepest deference. -</p> - -<p> -I say commenced, because he actually got no farther than what I should -call the impulse. He began, but in the very act of beginning, as it -were, stopped short, as if something which he saw in me had stricken -him with temporary paralysis—paralysis which was decidedly not the -result of a flattering cause. He was, possibly by profession—for a -waiter must know how to control his countenance—a master of the art -of keeping his feelings out of his face. That he was surprised, I was -uncomfortably convinced—surprised almost to the verge of being -dumfounded. Yet he managed to prevent that fact being betrayed by his -features. His expression, so to speak, was held in suspense. But -presently it became eloquent enough. -</p> - -<p> -I have heard something about the insolence of foreigners. I know a -girl who has lived most of her life abroad, and I have heard her say -that while foreigners are the politest creatures on earth, they are -the most insolent too. I had an example of it then. That sublimated -person of the waiter class had evidently expected to see one kind of a -girl, and actually saw another. For a moment or two he was still, -looking me, all the while, full in the face. Then he smiled, not only -at me, but also at the others, and he said, his slightly foreign -accent emphasising his sneering intention: -</p> - -<p> -“What a difference between the night and the morning!” -</p> - -<p> -Swinging the flowers which he held in his hand, which had certainly -been intended for me, he marched past me, straight out of the room, -without another word, still smiling. As he opened the hall-door to let -himself out, he laughed—such a laugh! -</p> - -<p> -I knew, as well as if I had seen him do it, that as soon as he was -down the steps, he threw the flowers which had been meant for me out -into the street. -</p> - -<p> -Had he struck me across the face with his stick, he could not have -branded me with a more distinctive mark of ignominy—he, a waiter! The -charm of it was, that no one showed the slightest sign of resenting -his behaviour. I was speechless. I had anticipated some difficulty -with my tongue, but in the presence of that sublimity of insult, it -refused to do its office altogether. My confusion was rendered worse -confounded by the horrible embarrassment of the men by whom I found -myself confronted. Their astonishment at the personality which my -entrance had discovered—in such bewildering contrast to the glorious -being of whom they had dreamed—was evidently so great as to be beyond -their capacity of concealment. It not only robbed them of their -senses, but also of their manners. They offered me no sort of -greeting, not acknowledging my presence by a word or movement, but -could only stand and stare and gasp, probably anathematising -themselves internally for the crassness of their folly. -</p> - -<p> -Those well-bred gentlemen! -</p> - -<p> -The continued silence became so hideous that it had to be broken, even -though I had to break it myself. I could not stay there and petrify -before their stony gaze. It cost me a severe muscular spasm to break -loose from the trammels of the sort of tetanus by which I was -afflicted. And when I did the result was ludicrously inadequate. My -intention was to be garrulous, a lava stream of words. All I could say -was this: -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t want me. I needn’t stay.” -</p> - -<p> -It was true, the concentrated essence of truth. But as an illustration -of the resources of the English language, it seemed hardly equal to -the occasion. It was such a stupid, such an uncouth, thing to say—so -utterly in character. The consciousness that this was so—that I was, -by the decree of nature, a stupid, uncouth, gawky idiot—was the last -straw. I turned to make my way out of the room as best I could. -</p> - -<p> -My turning woke, at least, one of the gentlemen to some sense of the -requirements of his position—the brown man. He had shown himself, -last night, to be the owner of considerable stores of presence of -mind; he proved, now, that he possessed some remnants still—even -though they were, as remnants are apt to be, of somewhat dubious -quality. Advancing a half-step towards where I was, he checked me in -my retreat. -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, one moment, Miss O’Brady.” I was not Miss O’Brady. I -longed, even then, to tell him so. But, fortunately, I did manage to -refrain. “I am here to offer you my apologies.” I was perfectly sure -that he had come there with no intention of the kind. “I fear that -last night I behaved with scant discretion. I frightened you. I think -I must have been a little off my head. I beg that it is in that light -that you will regard the singularity of my conduct; and can now only -assure you that I am ready to lay at your feet my excuses, my regrets, -my confession of misbehaviour, in any form you may command.” -</p> - -<p> -He did not seem to see that his words, which were more than a little -artificial, were not so much an apology as a fresh offence. He had -made love to me because he was a little off his head, had he? What a -compliment, under the circumstances, the idea conveyed. I should have -liked to have pinched him, or done something more emphatic still, and, -perhaps, something more undignified. Instead of which I merely -replied, with an awkward clumsiness of which I was only too keenly -sensitive: -</p> - -<p> -“Pray, don’t apologise! It doesn’t matter in the least.” -</p> - -<p> -I gave no one else an opportunity to utter a syllable. The sight of -their continued dumbness was more than flesh and blood could endure; -and, above all, what the brown man had the audacity to call his -apology. I strode out into the hall, and I am afraid I banged the door -after me as I went. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch26"> -CHAPTER XXVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">ON THE SINGULAR EFFECTS OF SUNLIGHT</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> I regained my bedroom, which, in spite of its manifold and -ostentatious deficiencies, I had long regarded as a harbour of refuge -in which I might find shelter when the storms of life pressed too -hardly, I took out of my dress pocket—I always insisted on having a -pocket in my dress, whatever the fashion was, it was the one point on -which I would have my way—that scrap of paper. It was blank. That -sentence must have been written on it with vanishing ink, because -already not a trace of it could be seen. That process of fading must -have proceeded with marvellous rapidity. I held in my hand a soiled, -crumpled piece of paper, which was so void of anything in the shape of -written characters, that I was at a loss as to which side of it those -mysterious words had been on. -</p> - -<p> -The brief hour of my triumph had faded too. I was again the plain, -uninteresting Norah O’Brady; the ugly girl with the pretty sisters; -the overgrown gawk, who always looked so ridiculous in the clothes she -wore. As I had once heard myself described—the creature with the -hands and feet. I was that pleasant person again, this time for ever -and a day. I could hardly expect a second miraculous interference with -the ordinance of nature. -</p> - -<p> -And the story of that interposition would be scored up against me, in -the family debtor and creditor account, to be used as another missile, -when the tale of Norah’s clumsiness, bearishness, multitudinous -stupidities, was once more the well-worn domestic theme. How amusing -it would be to recall the day when the five men took her out to dine. -How incredible it seemed, and, indeed, was. One must have dreamed it. -By degrees, quite possibly, a legend would grow up that it was an -elaborate practical joke which those five gentlemen had planned among -themselves. And the Duke who called on her! You wouldn’t think it to -look at her, would you? No one ever does believe it; but he actually -did. And the bald-headed old horror! And that waiter!—a waiter, -actually, my dear!—such a ridiculous fellow! Don’t you remember how -impertinent he was to her? How he treated her as if she were the dirt -beneath his feet! It was the funniest thing you ever saw. -</p> - -<p> -I knew. My prophetic soul saw it all in store for me, being acquainted -with the family methods where anything which would point a gibe -against me was concerned. -</p> - -<p> -Putting on my hat I went out. The atmosphere of the house, even of my -own room, was insupportable. It would not have been surprising if -someone had endeavoured to stay me, for with Jane, assisted only by a -charwoman, I had to play the part of second maid. But no one did. I -was conscious that someone came to the drawing-room window as I went -by. But I did not notice who it was; and as, so far as I know, no -attempt was made to attract my attention, I did not care. -</p> - -<p> -I steered for Kensington Gardens. They were the nearest available -approach to the country for which I was always longing; and there, -sometimes, one could be alone with the grass, and the trees, and the -birds. That was my dominant feeling: the desire to get away from -everyone, from everything. To transplant myself from this world, in -which I had been, and was, and should be, such an utter failure. If I -could only find myself in a different environment, in some place where -people were not principally concerned with each other’s appearance, -where one could dress as one pleased, and do as one chose, and be -comfortable, and yet not be the subject of perpetual comment; where -one could have liberty to be a woman, a girl, in one’s own way, which -would not be such a dreadful way after all, where one could be even -huge and plain and not despised, what a place that would be. -</p> - -<p> -As I tramped through the trees, seeking a spot which was not overrun -with nursemaids, and all kinds of persons, I perceived no prospect of -ever finding such a haven; unless, perhaps, it were by way of the -Round Pond, if it contains water to cover a person of my unseemly -inches. On the other side of it, almost obscured by the trunk of a -great oak, I saw two chairs. Not only were they unoccupied, but there -seemed to be no one in their immediate neighbourhood. So I planted -myself in one. In Kensington Gardens no one ever sits upon the grass. -Not only would it be in the highest degree improper, but it would -spoil one’s clothes, and everyone would stare, and take one for quite -a common person. Such an act would be impossible. If one sits at all, -one sits upon a chair,—as I did then, though I would infinitely have -preferred the ground, and my back against a tree, because the chair -was most uncomfortable. And I prepared to lash myself with pessimistic -and painful reflections on some such cheerful topic as the Vanity of -Human Wishes—please put in the capital letters. -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, the sun was shining; and when the sun shines, and I am -out-of-doors, and the air is fresh and sweet, and one feels that the -summer is at hand, and there is no unsympathetic person to stick pins -in you, somehow I never can make as much of my distresses as I ought -to; they seem to melt. To begin with, they are solid; in fact, -immensely solid, and I mean to keep them solid. Indeed, I often set -out with the deliberate intention of considering nothing else but -their immense solidity, and allowing nothing to interfere with my -consideration either. Then, in some way, the sunshine gets into my -eyes, or head, or something, and has a sort of a kind of a dazzling -effect. It must have, because, all of a sudden, they are gone—or seem -gone. I cannot see them anywhere. Of course, it is absurd, and most -illogical; because, all the time, they must be there. But it really is -fatal for me to start thinking of my grievances in fine weather. No -matter how resolved I am to stick to the subject, I never can keep my -mind fixed on them when the sun is shining, and I am -out-of-doors—never. -</p> - -<p> -It was like that, then. I had not been on that chair three minutes -when Ben Morgan came and seated himself on the one just next. I was -too surprised for words, having had no notion that he was anywhere -within miles. His coming in that unexpected and startling fashion -knocked all the ideas clean out of my head, except the consciousness -of my disgraceful conduct to him the day before. But his tact was -marvellous; I always have been struck by it. He never hinted at it by -so much as a syllable. And presently, to my absolute amazement, I -found myself chattering away as if I had come out for that especial -purpose. -</p> - -<p> -We began with what was in the newspaper, which I did not happen to -have seen, though, from what I could gather from him, I had not lost -much. And then—well then, the subject was changed. A white poodle -crossed in front of us, and we began talking about dogs. We were both -of us very fond of dogs, and, indeed, all sorts of animals; so that it -was a topic which was interesting to us both. Then the subject was -changed again. Became personal. Drifted, as it were. I have always -laughed at people who did that sort of thing in Kensington Gardens. I -never thought I should have done it—never. But it became sunnier and -sunnier every moment, until I was looking at everything through a -golden haze. -</p> - -<p> -Well—I said I would. And when I confessed my shame and my contrition -for my behaviour to him yesterday, he said it did not matter—nothing -mattered now. And I was the happiest girl in the world! As for being -sorry because that fatal power of mine had endured for so short a -time, it was the best thing that could have happened. I was delighted. -How awful it would have been if everyone I met had kept on falling in -love with me right off—high and low, married and single, young and -old—when I wanted to be loved by no one else but Ben. -</p> - -<p> -When I told him, in a muddly way, of what had occurred, you should -have seen how deliciously he was amused. Though he did say one -ridiculous thing—that he could see nothing miraculous in people -falling in love with me at sight, since no man worth his salt could -help it. Of course I knew that that was one of love’s sweet perjuries. -I am not sure that truth is always the thing which is most to be -desired. -</p> - -<p> -He is not at all mis-shapen, really; or, if he is, the tiniest scrap: -I love him all the more because of it. To me, he will always be -straighter than I am; and, ever since I was the merest tot, for -straightness, I have been a perfect grenadier. -</p> - -<p> -He would walk home with me; and he told them about it, then and there. -You should have seen mamma and the girls when we walked in together. -We had actually forgotten lunch; it was quite late in the afternoon; -they were beginning to wonder what had become of me. When they learnt, -their faces were a study. But they were positively as nice as possible -to both of us. Mamma kissed me, and was quite sweet to Ben; and -Audrey, in particular, said some lovely things. -</p> - -<p> -... We are going to have that scrap of paper, on which the writing -was, framed, and hung up in—in our bedroom. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[The End] -</p> - - -<h2> -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. -</h2> - -<p class="noindent"> -Alterations to the text: -</p> - -<p> -Add TOC. -</p> - -<p> -Change several instances of <i>anyrate</i> to <i>any rate</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Minor punctuation fixes. -</p> - -<p> -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter III] -</p> - -<p> -“I am a kind of raree show, So whenever...” change comma to period. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter V] -</p> - -<p> -“among all my compeers. am best qualified...” change period to comma. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter IX] -</p> - -<p> -“than to the end of a <i>women’s</i> arm.” to <i>woman’s</i>. -</p> - -<p> -“scarcely saying <i>bo</i>! to a goose” to <i>boo</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVIII] -</p> - -<p> -Change “when they were <i>yonng</i>” to <i>young</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Change “on the <i>otber</i> side of the top...” to <i>other</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XX] -</p> - -<p> -“or rage. or something.” change the period after <i>rage</i> to a comma. -</p> - -<p> -Change “But this time I <i>sha’n’t</i> mind.” to <i>shan’t</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXV] -</p> - -<p> -Change “A <i>promonitory</i> something was...” to <i>premonitory</i>. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[End of Text] -</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGNETIC GIRL ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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