She came, she is gone, we have met, And meet perhaps never again.--COWPER.
The evening of that day was a scene of welcomes, dinners, and confusion.The Rotherwoods had arrived that evening at the Cliff Hotel just in timefor dinner, of which they considerately partook where they were, to saveJane Mohun trouble; but all four of the party came the instant it wasover to hear and see all that was going on, and were fervently receivedby Gillian and Mysie, who were sleeping at their aunt's to be ready forthe morrow, and in spite of all fatigue, had legs wherewith to walk LordIvinghoe and Lady Phyllis round the stalls, now closed up by canvas andguarded by police. Phyllis was only mournful not to have assisted in thepreparations, and heard all the fun that Mrs. Grinstead had made.But over the wall of Carrara a sight was seen for which no one wasprepared--no other than Maura White's pretty classical face!
"Yes," she said, "how could I be away from such an occasion? I madeUncle White bring me to London--he had business there, you know--andthen I descended on Kalliope, and wasn't she surprised! But I have alovely Italian dress!"
Kalliope Henderson looked more alarmed than gratified on the whole. Sheknew that there had been no idea of Maura's coming till after it hadbeen known that the Rotherwoods were to open the bazaar, and "made UncleWhite" was so unlike their former relations that all were startled,Gillian asking in a tone of reproof how Aunt Adeline spared Maura.
"Oh, we shall be back at Gastein in less than a week. I could not misssuch an occasion."
"I only had her telegram half-an-hour ago," said Kalliope, in anapologetic tone; and Lord Ivinghoe was to be dimly seen handing Mauraover the fence. Moonlight gardens and moonlight sea! What was to bedone? And Ivinghoe, who had begun life by being as exclusive as theMarchioness herself! "People take the bit between their teeth nowadays,"as Jane observed to Lady Rotherwood when the news reached her, andneither said, though each felt, that Adeline would not have promotedthis expedition, even for the child whom she and Mr. White had conspiredto spoil. Each was secretly afraid of the attraction for Ivinghoe.
At St. Andrew's Rock there was a glad meeting with the TravisUnderwoods, who had disposed of themselves at the Marine Hotel, whilethey came up with a select party of three Vanderkists to spend theevening with Clement, Geraldine, and Lancelot, not to mention Adrian,who had been allowed to sit up to dinner to see his sisters, and wasalmost devoured by them. His growth, and the improved looks of bothhis uncle and aunt, so delighted Marilda, that Lancelot declared theRockquay people would do well to have them photographed "Then" and"Now," as an advertisement of the place! But he was not without dread ofthe effect of the disclosure that had yet to be made, though Gerald hadapparently forgotten all about it as he sat chaffing Emilia Vanderkistabout the hospital, whither she was really going for a year; Sophy aboutthe engineer who had surveyed the Penbeacon intended works, and Francieabout her Miranda-Mona in strange hands.
The Vanderkists all began life as very pretty little girls, but showedmore or less of the Hollander ancestry as they grow up. Only Franceska,content with her Dutch name, had shot up into a beautiful figure,together with the fine features and complexion of the Underwood twins,and the profuse golden flax hair of her aunt Angela, so that she tookthem all by surprise in the pretty dress presented by Cousin Marilda,and chosen by Emilia. Sophy was round and short, as nearly plain as onewith the family likeness could be, but bright and joyous, and very proudof her young sister. It was a merry evening.
In fact, Lance himself was so much carried away by the spirit of thething, and so anxious about the performance, that he made all therest, including Clement, join in singing Autolycus's song, which wasto precede the procession, to a new setting of his own, before theydispersed.
But Lance was beginning to dress in the morning when a knock came to hisdoor.
"A note from Mr. Flight, please, sir."
The note was--"Circus and Schnetterlings gone off in the night! Shopclosed! Must performance be given up?"
The town was all over red and blue posters! But Lance felt a wild hopefor the future, and a not ill-founded one for the present. He rushedinto his clothes, first pencilling a note--
"Never say die. L. 0. U."
Then he hurried off, and sent up a message to Miss Franceska Vanderkist,to come and speak to him, and he walked up and down the sitting-roomwhere breakfast was being spread, like a panther, humming Prospero'ssongs, or murmuring vituperations, till Franceska appeared, a perfectpicture of loveliness in her morning youthful freshness.
"Francie, there's no help for it. You must take Mona! She hasabsconded!"
"Uncle Lance!"
"Yes, gone off in the night; left us lamenting."
"The horrible girl!"
"Probably not her fault, poor thing! But that's neither here nor there.I wish it was!"
"But I thought--"
"It is past thinking now, my dear. Here we are, pledged. Can't drawback, and you are the only being who can save us! You know the part."
"Yes, in a way."
"You did it with me at home."
"Oh yes; but, Uncle Lance, it would be too dreadful before all thesepeople."
"Never mind the people. Be Mona, and only think of Alaster and Angus."
"But what would mamma say, or Aunt Wilmet? And Uncle Clem?" each in amore awe-stricken voice.
"I'll tackle them."
"I know I shall be frightened and fail, and that will be worse."
"No, it won't, and you won't. Look here, Francie, this is not aself-willed freak for our own amusement. The keeping up the Churchschools here depends upon what we can raise. I hate bazaars. I hateto have to obtain help for the Church through these people's idleamusement, but you and I have not two or three thousands to give away toa strange place in a lump; but we have our voices. 'Such as I have giveI thee,' and this ridiculous entertainment may bring in fifty or maybea hundred. I don't feel it right to let it collapse for the sake of ourown dislikes."
"Very well, Uncle Lance, I'll do as you tell me."
"That's the way to do it, my dear. At least, when you make ready,recollect, not that you are facing a multitude, but that you are savinga child's Christian faith; when you prepare, that you have to do withnobody but Gerald and me; when it comes to 'One, two, three, and away,'mind nothing but your music and your cue."
"But the dress, uncle?"
"The dress is all safe at the pavilion. You must come up and rehearse assoon as you have eaten your breakfast. Oh, you don't know where. Well,one of us will come and fetch you. Good girl, Francie! Keep up yourheart. By the bye, which is Fernan's dressing-room? I must prepare him."
That question was answered, for Sir Ferdinand's door into the corridorwas opened.
"Lance! I thought I heard your voice."
"Yes, here's a pretty kettle of fish! Our Miranda has absconded, poorchild. Happy thing you brought down Francie; nobody else could take thepart at such short notice. You must pacify Marilda, silence scruples,say it is her duty to Church, country, and family. Can't stop!"
"Lance, explain--do! Music-mad as usual!" cried Sir Ferdinand, pursuinghim down-stairs in despair.
"I _must_ be music-mad; the only chance of keeping sane just now.There's an awful predicament! Can't go into it now, but you shall hearall when this is over."
Wherewith Lance was lost to view, and presently burst into St. Kenelm'sVicarage, to the relief of poor Mr. Flight, who had tried to solacehimself with those three words as best he might.
"All right. My niece, Franceska Vanderkist, who took the part before,and who has a very good soprano, will do it better as to voice, if notso well as to acting, as the Little Butterfly."
"Is she here?"
"Yes, by good luck. I shall have her up to the pavilion to rehearse herfor the afternoon."
"Mr. Underwood, no words can say what we owe you. You are the saving ofour Church education."
Lance laughed at the magniloquent thanks, and asked how the intimationhad been received.
It appeared tha
t on the previous evening O'Leary had come to him, and,in swaggering fashion, had demanded twenty pounds as payment for hisstep-daughter's performance at the masque. Mr. Flight had replied thatshe had freely promised her services gratuitously for the benefit of theobject in view. At this the man had scoffed, talked big about her valueand the meanness of parsons, and threatened to withdraw her. Ratherweakly the clergyman had said the question should be considered,but that he could do nothing without the committee, and O'Leary haddeparted, uttering abuse.
This morning "Sweetie Bob," the errand-boy, had arrived crying, withtidings that the shop and house were shut up; nobody answered his knock;Mother Butterfly had "cut" in the night, gone off, he believed, withthe circus, and Miss Lydia too; and there was two-and-ninepence owing tohim, besides his--his--his character!
He knew that Mother Butterfly had gone to the magistrates' meetingthe day before, and paid her fine of twenty-five pounds, and healso believed that she had paid up her rent, and sold her shop to aneighbouring pastry-cook, but he had never expected her to departin this sudden way, and then he began to shed fresh tears over histwo-and-ninepence and his character.
Mr. Flight began to reassure him, with promises to speak for him asan honest lad, while Lance bethought himself of the old organist'sdescription of that wandering star, "Without home, without country,without morals, without religion, without anything," and recollectedwith a shudder that turning-point in his life when Edgar had made himshow off his musical talent, and when Felix had been sharp with him, andthe office of the 'Pursuivant' looked shabby, dull, and dreary.
Nothing more could be done, except to make bold assurances to Mr. Flightthat Mona's place should be supplied, and then to hurry home, meetingon his way a policeman, who told him that the circus was certainly goneaway, and promised to let him know whither.
He was glad to find that Gerald had not come down-stairs, havingoverslept himself in the morning after a wakeful night. He was dressingwhen his uncle knocked at his door.
"Here is a shock, Gerald! I hope it is chiefly to our masque. Thesepeople have absconded, and carried off our poor little Mona."
"What? Absconded? My sister! I must be after them instantly," criedGerald, wildly snatching at his coat.
"What good would that do? you can't carry her off vi et armis."
"Send the police."
"No possibility. The fine is paid, the rent and all. They have gone, itseems, with the circus."
"Ah! Depend upon it that fellow has paid the fine, and bought the poorchild into slavery with it. Carried her off in spite of our demurring,and the Vicar's prosecution. I must save her. I'll go after and outbid."
"No hurry, Gerald. A circus is not such a microscopical object but thatit can be easily traced. A policeman has promised to find out where, andmeanwhile we must attend to our present undertaking."
Gerald strode up and down the room in a fiery fit of impatience andindignation, muttering furious things, quite transformed from thelistless, ironical youth hitherto known to his family.
"Come," Lancelot said, "our first duty is to do justice to our part;Francie Vanderkist will take Mona."
"Hang Mona! you care for nothing on earth but your fiddling and songs."
"I do not see that being frantic will make any difference to thesituation. All in our power is being done. Meanwhile, we must attend towhat we have undertaken."
Gerald rushed about a little more, but finally listened to his uncle'srepresentation that the engrossing employment was good to prevent theperil of disturbing the two whom they were so anxious to spare. Felycame running up with a message that Aunt Cherie and Anna had been sentfor to see about the decorations of the art stall, and that they wouldhave to eat their breakfast without them.
Appetite for breakfast was lacking, but Lance forced himself to swallow,as one aware of the consequences of fasting for agitation's sake, and henearly crammed Gerald; so that Adrian and Fely laughed, and he excusedhimself by declaring that he wanted his turkey-cock to gobble and notpipe. For which bit of pleasantry he encountered a glare from Gerald'sHungarian eyes. He was afraid on one side to lose sight of his nephew,on the other he did not feel equal to encounter a scolding from Marilda,so he sent Adrian and Fely down to the Marine Hotel to fetch Franceska,while he stole a moment or two for greeting Clement, who was muchbetter, and only wanted more conversation than he durst give him.
CHAPTER XXI. -- THE MASQUE
Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy. Taming of the Shrew.