But I needn't tell you what to do, only do it out of hand, And charge whatever you like to charge, my lady won't make a stand. --T. HOOD.
The ladies' committee could not but meet over and over again, wanderingabout the gardens, which were now trimmed into order, to place thestalls and decide on what should and should not be.
There was to be an art stall, over which Mrs. Henderson was to preside.Here were to be the very graceful and beautiful articles of sculptureand Italian bijouterie that the Whites had sent home, and that werespared from the marble works; also Mrs. Grinstead's drawings, CaptainHenderson's, those of others, screens and scrap-books and photographs.Jasper and a coadjutor or two undertook to photograph any one who wishedit; and there too were displayed the Mouse-traps. Mrs. Henderson, sureto look beautiful, quite Madonna-like in her costume, would have thecharge of the stall, with Gillian and two other girls, in Italianpeasant-dresses, sent home by Aunt Ada.
Gillian was resolved on standing by her. "Kalliope wants some oneto give her courage," she said. "Besides, I am the mother of theMouse-trap, and I must see how it goes off."
Lady Flight and a bevy of young ladies of her selection were topreside over the flowers; Mrs. Yarley undertook the refreshments; LadyMerrifield the more ordinary bazaar stall. Her name was prized, andAnna was glad to shelter herself under her wing. The care of Valetta andPrimrose, to say nothing of Dolores, was enough inducement to overcomeany reluctance, and she was glad to be on the committee when vexedquestions came on, such as Miss Pettifer's offer of a skirt-dance, whichcould not be so summarily dismissed as it had been at Beechcroft, forLady Flight and Mrs. Varley wished for it, and even Mrs. Harper wasready to endure anything to raise the much-needed money, and almostthought Lady Merrifield too particular when she discontinued thedancing-class for Valetta and Primrose.
"That speaks for itself," said Mrs. Grinstead.
"I can fancy seeing no harm in it for little girls," said LadyMerrifield, "but I don't like giving them a talent the use of whichseems to be to enable them to show off."
"And I know that Lady Rotherwood would not approve," said Miss Mohun,aware that this settled the matter. "And here's another outsider, MissPenfeather, who offers to interpret handwriting at two-and-sixpence ahead."
"By all means," was the cry. "We will build her a bower somewhere nearthe photography."
"I am only afraid," added Jane, "of her offering to do palmistry. Do youknow, I dabbled a little in that once, and I came to the conclusion thatit was not a safe study for oneself or any one else."
"Quite right," said Geraldine.
"Do you believe in it then?"
"Not so as to practise it, or accept it so far as the future isconcerned, and to play at it as a parody of fortune-telling seems to meutterly inadmissible."
"And to be squashed with Lord Rotherwood's mighty name," said hersister, laughing.
Lady Rotherwood would do so effectively. Wherewith came on the questionof raffles, an inexhaustible one, since some maintained that they werecontrary to English law, and were absolutely immoral, while others heldthat it was the only way of disposing of really expensive articles.These were two statues sent by Mrs. White, and an exquisite littlepicture by Mrs. Grinstead, worth more than any one could be expectedto give. It was one that she had nearly finished at the time of Mr.Grinstead's illness--John Inglesant arriving in his armour of light onhis wedding morning--and the associations were so painful that she saidshe never wished to see it again.
There were likewise a good many charming sketches of figures andscenery, over which Gerald and Anna grieved, though she had let themkeep all they could show cause for; but drawing had become as much herresource as in the good old days. She was always throwing off littleoutlines, and she had even begun a grand study, which she called "SafeHome," a vessel showing signs of storm and struggle just at the verge ofa harbour lost in golden light.
And the helmsman's face?
Clement and Lance neither of them said in words whose it was, as theyboth stood looking at it, and owned to themselves the steadfast face oftheir eldest brother, but Clement said, with a sigh--
"Ah! we are a long way as yet from that."
"I'm very glad to hear you say so," exclaimed Lance; then laughing athimself, "You are ever so much better."
"Oh yes, I suppose I am to start again, going softly all my days,perhaps, and it is well, for I don't think the young generation canspare me yet."
"Nor Cherry."
"How thankful I am to have Cherry restored to me I cannot say, and I donot feel convinced that there may not be care at hand with Gerald. Theboy is in a reserved mood, very civil and amiable, but clearly holdingback from confidence."
"Does she see it?"
"Yes; but she fancies he bestows his confidence on Dolores Mohun, thegirl from New Zealand, and resigns herself to be set aside. It is prettywell time that we went to meet her."
For there was to be a dress rehearsal in the pavilion, to which certainspectators were to be admitted, chiefly as critics.
"Do you walk up the hill, Clem?"
"Yes, as long as I don't go too fast. Go on if you are wanted, and Iwill follow. Cherry has sent the carriage for an invalid who cannotventure to be there all the day."
"Let them wait. A walk with you is not to be wasted. Run on, Fely, tellthem we are coming," he added to his little Ariel, who had got lost inJungle Beasts.
As they went up the hill together, Clement not sorry to lean on hisbrother's arm, a dark woman of striking figure and countenance, thoughfar from young, came up with them, accompanied by a stout, over-dressedman.
"That's the cigar-shop woman," said Lance, "the mother of our prettylittle Miranda."
"I wonder she chooses to show herself after her conviction," saidClement.
"And if I am not much mistaken, that is the villain of The Sepoy'sRevenge," said Lance. "Poor little Butterfly, it is a bad omen for herfuture fate."
As they reached the doors of the great hotel, they found the pair inaltercation with the porter before the iron gate that gave admittance tothe gardens. "Mother Butterfly" was pleading that she was the mother ofMiss Schnetterling, who was singing, and the porter replying that hisorders were strict.
"No, not on any consideration," he repeated, as the man was evidentlyshowing him the glance of silver, and a policeman, who was marchingabout, showed signs of meaning to interfere.
At the same moment Gerald's quick steps came up from the inside.
"That's right, Lance; every one is crying out for you. Vicar, Cherie iskeeping a capital place for you."
The gate opened to admit them, and therewith Mrs. Schnetterling, tryingto push in, made a vehement appeal--
"Mr. Underwood, sir, surely the prima donna's own mother should not beexcluded."
"Her mother!" said Gerald. "Well, perhaps so, but hardly this--person,"as his native fastidiousness rose at the sight.
"No, sir," said the porter. "Captain Henderson and Mr. Simmonds, theyhave specially cautioned me who I lets in."
The man grumbled something about swells and insolence, and Lance, withhis usual instinct of courtesy, lingered to say--
"This is quite a private rehearsal--only the persons concerned!"
"And if I'm come on business," said the man confidentially. "You aresomething in our line."
"Scarcely," said Lance, rather amused. "At any rate, I don't make theregulations."
He sped away at the summons of his impatient son and Gerald.
They met Captain Henderson on the way, and after a hasty greeting, hesaid--
"So you have let in the Schnetterling woman?"
"One could not well keep out the mother," returned Lance.
"Well, no, but did she bring a man with her? My wife says the poorlittle Mona is in mortal terror lest he is come to inspect her for acircus company."
"Quite according to his looks," said Lance. "Poor child, it may be herfate, but she ought to be in safe hands, but
I suppose the woman wantsto sacrifice her to present gain."
They went on their way, and Lance and Gerald were soon absorbed in theircares of arrangement, while Clement was conducted to the seat reservedfor him between his sister and Lady Merrifield. The pavilion had beenfitted with stages of seats on the inner side, but the back--behindthe stage--was so contrived that in case of favourable weather the realsea-view could be let in upon occasion, though the curtain and adjuncts,which had been painted by some of the deft fingers at Vale Leston,represented the cavern; also there was a first scene, with a real sailand mast.
It was a kind of semi-dress rehearsal, beginning with pirate songs bythe school-master and choir, who had little difficulty in arrangingthemselves as buccaneers. The sail was agitated, then reefed, stormysongs were heard, where Captain Armytage did his part fairly well; theboatswain was gratified by roaring out his part characteristically, andthe curtain fell on "We split, we split, we split."
Then came a song of Prospero, not much disguised by a plaid and Highlandbonnet, interrupted by the pretty, graceful Miranda, very shy andill-assured at first, but gathering strength from his gentle encouragingways, while he told what was needful in the recitative that he alonecould undertake. Then the elves and fairies, led by little Felix, ina charming cap like Puck, danced on and sang, making the prettiest oftableaux, lulling Miranda to sleep, and then Ariel conversing in a mostdainty manner with Prospero.
Next Ferdinand and Miranda had their scene, almost all songs and duets.Both sang very sweetly, and she had evidently gained in courage, andthrew herself into her part.
The shipwrecked party then came on the scene, performed their songs,and were led about Puck-fashion by the fairies, and put to sleep by thelament over Ferdinand. The buccaneers in like manner were deluded bymore mischievous songs and antics, till bogged and crying out behind thescenes.
Their intended victims were then awakened, to find themselves in thepresence of Prospero; sing themselves into the reconciliation, thenmourn for Ferdinand, until the disclosure of the two lovers, and thefinal release of Ariel and the sprites, all singing Jacobite songs.
To those who were not au fait with the 'Tempest' and felt no indignationor jealousy at the travesty, it was charming; and though the audience atthe rehearsal numbered few of these, the refined sweetness and powerof the performers made it delightful and memorable. Every one was inraptures with the fairies, who had been beautifully drilled, and aboveall with their graceful little leader, with his twinkling feet and archlively manner, especially in the parts with his father.
Ferdinand and Miranda--or rather Angus and Mona--were quite ideal inlooks, voices, and gestures.
"Almost dangerously so," said Jane Mohun; "and the odd thing is thatthey are just alike enough for first cousins, as they are here, thoughShakespeare was not guilty of making them such."
"The odd thing is," said Geraldine, as she drove home with Clement,"that this brought me back so strangely to that wonderful concertat home, with all of you standing up in a row, and the choir fromMinsterham, and poor Edgar's star."
"An evil star!" sighed Clement.
CHAPTER XVIII. -- THE EVIL STAR