CHAPTER XX
The walls of the little town were placarded with the announcement of agreat bazaar to be held for the benefit of the English Church inBad-Schleppenheim. The economics of a fashionable bazaar are evidentlygoverned by certain obscure laws, of which the knowledge is yet ininfancy; for the ordinary laws of commerce are on these occasionscompletely suspended. That of supply and demand becomes inverted, sincethe vendors are seemingly eager to sell all that the buyers least want:the cost of production, of which statistics are not obtainable, theexpenditure of money, time, and energy required to furnish the stalls isnot taken into account at all. Loss and profit appear to be inextricablymingled; however much unsold merchandise remains on the stall at the endof the bazaar the seller is expected to hand over a substantial sum tothe good object for which she is supposed to have been working. And yetthere must be some advantage in this method of raising money, or eventhe female mind would presumably not at once turn to it as the simplestand most obvious way of obtaining funds for a given purpose.
These problems, however, did not exist for Lady Chaloner, one of theleaders of English Society in Schleppenheim. She took bazaars forgranted, as she did everything else. She was one of the very pillars ofthe social fabric of her country. She was of noble blood, she wasportly, she was decidedly middle-aged. She had been recommended to dietherself and to drink the waters of Schleppenheim, and as she did so incompany with half the distinguished people in Europe, she was quitecontent to follow the course prescribed. In these days when everythingis called into question, when social codes alter, and an undesirablefusion of human beings takes place in so many directions, it waspositively refreshing to turn to Lady Chaloner, who not only did notknow, but could not conceive that it mattered, what other people did inany layer of existence beneath her own. She had not at any time a keeneye to discrimination of character. Her judgment of thosefellow-creatures whom she naturally frequented was based in the firstinstance on their degree of blood relationship with herself, then ontheir social standing: but she was but vaguely aware of the differencebetween the men and women, especially the women, who did not belong tothat inner circle, and knew as little about them as a looker-on leaningfrom a window in a foreign town knows about the people who pass beneathhim in the street. But there were times when she entirely recognisedthe usefulness in the scheme of creation of those motley crowds ofwell-dressed persons, even though they bore names she had never heardbefore. During her preparation for the bazaar, for instance, which shewas getting up in the single-minded conviction that nothing better couldbe done for the institution she was trying to befriend, she had beenmore than willing to co-operate with Mrs. Birkett, the wife of thechaplain, and even to ask some of Mrs. Birkett's friends for their help.Mrs. Birkett, who approached the bazaar from the point of view fromwhich she had artlessly imagined it was being undertaken, that ofensuring some sort of provision for the expenses of the chaplain whoundertook the summer duty of Schleppenheim, received a series of shocksas she came face to face with the different points of view of thevarious stall-holders with whom she was successively brought intocontact. Lady Chaloner--she looked on this as a great achievement--hadsucceeded in enrolling among the bazaar-workers the young PrincessHohenschreien, on the ground of her being a staunch Protestant. ThePrincess was half-English, half-German. Her mother had been a distantconnection of Lady Chaloner. This relationship in some strange wayentirely condoned in Lady Chaloner's eyes the fact that the PrincessHohenschreien had a good deal of paint on her face, and a good deal ofpaint in her manner, and that the loudness of her laugh and the boldnessof her bearing were more pronounced than would have been permitted ofthe well-behaved ladies brought up within the walls of Castle Chaloner.However, Lady Chaloner's daughters were married to husbands of anexcellent and irreproachable kind, and were out in the world; and LadyChaloner felt no kind of responsibility about Madeline Hohenschreien,"Maddy," as she was called by her intimates. She expressed distinctapproval of her, in fact, in the words, "Maddy has such a lot of goabout her, hasn't she? It does one good to hear her laughin'." So when"Maddy" instantly and light-heartedly undertook to help the bazaar byperforming at the Cafe Chantant, that was to go on at stated times allthrough the evening, Lady Chaloner felt that she was doing a distinctlygood work. It was no small undertaking, however, marshalling her forcesand trying to arrange that every one of the stallholders should not beselling exactly the same thing--namely, the small carved wooden objects,the staple commodity of Schleppenheim, made by the surroundingpeasantry.
The bazaar was drawing near, and Lady Chaloner was very busy indeed.Indefatigably did she send for Mrs. Birkett several times every day,begging her to bring a pencil and paper that they might make lists. Mrs.Birkett's experience, however, was limited to sales of work undersomewhat different conditions in England, and she was not of very muchuse, except as a moral support and outward material embodiment of thecause for which the bazaar was being undertaken. She sought comfort inher inmost soul in the thought of all the money that must surely flowinto the coffers of the Church after this magnificent undertaking; butshe was secretly out of her element and ill at ease, when Lady Chalonerpounced upon her to talk of the bazaar, at an hour when the mostfashionable people in Europe, with their best clothes on, were walkingup and down while the band was playing, or established at little tablesexchanging intimate pleasantries with one another and greetings with thepeople that passed.
She was sitting by Lady Chaloner, in compulsory attendance upon thatbenefactress of the Church, a few days before the bazaar was to comeoff.
"Now, let me see," said Lady Chaloner, "what are you goin' to have onyour stall?"
"On mine?" said Mrs. Birkett, rather taken aback.
"Yes," said Lady Chaloner, "aren't you goin' to have a stall?"
"You see," said Mrs. Birkett, "I have not any of the things herethat--er--I generally use for the purpose," and she thought regretfullyof a big box at home which contained a sort of rolling stock of hideousarticles that travelled, so to speak, between herself and her friendsfrom one bazaar to another, and reappeared, a sort of symbolicalmerchandise, a currency in a nightmare, at all the fancy sales held inthe neighbourhood of Leighton Ham.
"The only thing is," said Lady Chaloner, "it is rather a pity, because,bein' for the Church, people will expect you to sell, you know. Perhapsyou could sell at somebody else's stall. Mine's full, I think," sheadded prudently. "Let me see," and her ladyship ran quickly over thenames of the half a dozen young women who, in the most beguiling ofcostumes, were going to trip about and sell buttonholes to theirpartners of the evening before. Lady Chaloner's solid good sense andlong habit of the world kept things that should be separate perfectlydistinct; she did not for a moment contemplate Mrs. Birkett trippingabout and selling buttonholes. "Perhaps Mrs. Samuels hasn't got hernumber complete," she said, not realising this time, the thing being alittle more out of her field of vision, that Mrs. Samuels, who had beenspending her time, energy, and even money, in trying to be friends withLady Chaloner, might quite possibly be in the same attitude towards Mrs.Birkett, if thrust upon her, as Lady Chaloner was to herself.
"I daresay, yes," said Mrs. Birkett, with some misgiving, as she sawMrs. Samuels further down the alley, standing with a London manager inthe centre of a group who were laughing and talking round them.
"Let me see, Mrs. Samuels is goin' to have the tea, isn't she?"
"Yes, the refreshment stall," said Mrs. Birkett, referring to her list.
"And Lady Adela Prestige the fortune tellin'--and PrincessHohenschreien, what did she say she would do? Oh! I remember, the CafeChantant. What has she done about it, I wonder? Do you know anythingabout that?"
"I am afraid I don't," said Mrs. Birkett. This, indeed, was quite beyondher competence.
"I wonder if she has got people enough. Ah! here she is. Madeline!Maddy!" she called out, as Princess Hohenschreien appeared at the end ofthe walk, a parasol lined with pink behind her, and her head thrown backas she laughed loud and heartily a
t something her companion had said.
"Yes, dear Lady Chaloner? Were you calling me?"
"I wanted to speak to you about the bazaar," said Lady Chaloner. "How doyou do, M. de Moricourt," to the Princess's companion.
"The bazaar," said the young man in French, as he bowed, "what is that?"
"What is that?" said the Princess, with another burst of laughter. "But,_mon cher_, you are impossible! We have been talking of nothing else allthe way down the alley."
"How?" said the young man. "I really beg your pardon, Princess, but Ithought we were talking of the comedy we were going to act at theCasino."
"And what do you suppose that comedy is for," said the Princess, "if notfor the bazaar?"
"How can I tell?" said Moricourt. "It might have been to please thepublic, or even to please the Princess Hohenschreien," with a littlebow.
"Of course we shall please both," said the Princess. "And a bazaargives us a reason. A charity bazaar, isn't it?"
"Ah! a charity bazaar," said Moricourt, "that is another thing. Itdoesn't matter how badly I shall act, then."
"Perhaps that is as well," said the Princess.
"Is it permitted to know the object of the charity we are going toassist so well?" said Moricourt.
Lady Chaloner, dimly aware that Mrs. Birkett was becoming veryuncomfortable, although she did not clearly distinguish whether thepeculiar expression to be observed on the latter's face came fromirritation or embarrassment, hastily said--
"It is not a charity exactly. It is for the English Church atSchleppenheim. This is Mrs. Birkett, the wife of the clergyman,"indicating Mrs. Birkett.
"Ah!" said Moricourt, "the English Church," and he bowed to Mrs. Birkettas though making the acquaintance of that honoured institution. PrincessHohenschreien also included herself in the introduction, and bowed witha good-natured smile of absolute indifference to Mrs. Birkett and to allthat she represented.
"Well, now then, seriously," said Lady Chaloner, "do you undertake theCafe Chantant, Madeline?"
"Not the whole of it, my dear lady," said the Princess. "That really istoo much to ask. M. Moricourt and I will act a play."
"How long does the play last?" said Lady Chaloner.
"How long did we say it took?" said the Princess to her companion. "Itdepends upon how often Moricourt forgets his part. When we rehearsed itlast night he waited quite ten minutes in the middle of it."
"I must remind you," said Moricourt, "that I was pausing to admire ...the beautiful feathers in your hat."
"Oh! well, that is different," said the Princess. "I think thatexplanation is satisfactory--but otherwise----" And she filled up thesentence with a telling glance, to which Moricourt replied with a lookof fervent admiration.
"Well, how long does it take, then?" said Lady Chaloner, with a smile ofstrange indulgence, Mrs. Birkett thought, for a lady so highly placed,and of such solid dignity.
"Oh! about half an hour," said Moricourt; "perhaps three-quarters."
"Is that all?" said Lady Chaloner, in some consternation. "The CafeChantant goes on for how long did you say, Mrs. Birkett?"
This piece of statistics Mrs. Birkett was able to furnish.
"From six till ten, I think you said, Lady Chaloner," she said, readingfrom her list.
"Heavens!" said the Princess, "you don't expect us, I hope, to go onfrom six till ten. We had better do the Nibelungen Ring at once. I willbe Bruennhilde--and I tell you what," turning to Moricourt, "you shall bethe big lizard who comes in and says 'bow-wow,' or whatever it is. Mr.Wentworth!" and she called to Wentworth who was strolling along with anair of being at peace with himself and the universe. "What is it thatlizards do?"
"If they are small," said Wentworth, "they run up a wall in the sun, orthey run over your feet, and if they are big----"
"You fall over their feet, I suppose," said the Princess.
"But a lizard at a Cafe Chantant," said Moricourt, "what does he do?"
"At a Cafe Chantant? He sings, of course," said Wentworth.
"No no," said the Princess, with again her resonant laugh. "I don't knowmuch about botany, but I am sure lizards don't sing."
"Then in that case," said Moricourt, "Wentworth must. He can sing; Ihave heard him."
"Can you, Mr. Wentworth? How well can you sing?" said the Princess withartless candour.
"Well," said Wentworth, "that is rather difficult to say. I don't singquite as well as Mario perhaps, but a little better than ... a lizard."
"Oh, that will do perfectly," said the Princess. "For a charity, peopleare not particular."
"By the way, what is all this for?" said Wentworth.
"For the English Church here, you remember," said Lady Chaloner.
"Oh! to be sure, yes," said Wentworth. "I saw the placard."
"This is Mrs. Birkett," said Lady Chaloner.
Wentworth bowed and said politely, "I hope the bazaar will be a greatsuccess."
"I hope so, thank you," Mrs. Birkett said, feeling that if the bazaarwere not a great success, she would have gone through a good deal for avery little. She longed to be allowed to go away, but she was not quitesure whether she would not be jeopardising the success of the bazaar byleaving at this juncture. Visions of having promised to meet herreverend husband to go for a walk at a given moment were haunting her.Finally, with a desperate effort, she said--
"I am afraid I have an appointment, Lady Chaloner, and must go now,unless there is anything more I can do."
"Oh, must you go?" said Lady Chaloner, "we had better meet in themorning, I think, and make a final list of the stalls."
"Certainly," said Mrs. Birkett, with a sigh of relief, and with adetermined effort she tried to include the circle she was leaving in onesalutation, and made away as fast as she could.
"I hope," said the Princess, "the poor lady is not shocked at having aCafe Chantant in her Church bazaar."
"At any rate," said Wentworth, "she will be consoled when you hand overthe results to her afterwards."
"What is the name of the piece you are going to do?" said Lady Chaloner,pencil in hand.
"_Une porte qui s'ouvre_," said Moricourt, with a glance at thePrincess.
"Oh! if you think we'll have that one!" said the Princess. "Would youbelieve, Lady Chaloner, that he wants me to be the maid in it instead ofthe leading lady, because he kisses the maid behind the door!"
"My dear Maddy!" said Lady Chaloner, reprovingly.
"Don't look so shocked at me, dear Lady Chaloner," she said. "I am sureI am as shocked myself at the suggestion, as----"
"Mrs. Birkett," suggested Wentworth.
"Precisely," said the Princess.
"At any rate we'll put that piece on the list for the present," saidLady Chaloner. "Then there will be a song from Lady Adela----"
"And a song from Mr. Wentworth," said Moricourt.
"That's splendid," said Lady Chaloner. "The Cafe Chantant will do. Theonly thing I rather regret is about the stalls, that every one is goin'to sell the same thing."
"And who is going to buy?" said the Princess.
"That's another difficulty," said Lady Chaloner, "they'll all have tobuy from one another."
"We had better have some autographs," said the Princess, "they alwayssell."
"Very good," said Lady Chaloner, putting it down on the list. "You hadbetter get some."
"All right," said the Princess. "We'll have some of all kinds, I think.I will get some from those people too," nodding her head in thedirection of the London manager.
"Everybody considers himself an autograph in these days," saidWentworth; "it is terrible what a levelling age we live in."
"We might sell photographs, of course," said the Princess, "instead ofautographs."
"Or both," said Lady Chaloner, earnestly and anxiously, as thoughcontemplating all sources of revenue. "Signed photographs."
"Excellent," said Wentworth.
"There ought to be people enough to buy, if they would only come," saidLady Chaloner, taking up a Vi
sitors' List that lay beside her. "Peoplelike the Francis Rendels, for instance," putting her finger on the name,"or----"
"The Rendels? Are they here?" said Wentworth, with much interest.
"So it says here. What is she like?" said Lady Chaloner. "Would shehelp?"
"I am not sure," said Wentworth. "She's in mourning, and very quiet--butvery charming."
"Thank you," said the Princess with a gay laugh. "I am sure that is acompliment _a mon adresse_. I know what you mean when you say that veryquiet women are charming. Let us go away, Moricourt; we are too noisyfor Mr. Wentworth."
"You are too bad, Maddy, really," said Lady Chaloner, smiling at thisbrilliant sally.
"_Ich bitte sehr_," said Wentworth to the Princess, with a little bow,as he took up the paper and looked for the address of the Rendels."Pavillon du Jardin, Hotel de Londres--I must go and look them up," hesaid.
"You might beat them up to come and buy, at any rate," said LadyChaloner, "if they can't do anything else."
"I will do what I can," said Wentworth with a smile, reflecting as hewalked off what a strange blurring of the focus of life there is when,everything being concentrated on to one particular purpose, whether itbe a bazaar, an election, or the giving of a ball, all the human beingsone encounters are considered from the point of view of their fitness toone particular end--in the aspect of a buyer or seller, as a voter, as apartner, as the case may be. There was no doubt that at this moment thewhole of mankind were expected to fit somehow into Lady Chaloner'spattern: to be useful for the bazaar, or to be thrown away as useless.
As Wentworth turned away he exchanged greetings with a jovialimportant-looking personage coming in the other direction, no other thanMr. Pateley, exhaling prosperity as he came. The completion of the Capeto Cairo railway, and the reinstatement in public opinion of the'Equator' Mine, proved to be of gold after all--let alone certainfortunate pecuniary transactions connected with that reinstatement--hadgiven Pateley both political and material satisfaction. The _Arbiter_was advancing more triumphantly than ever, and its editor was a personof increasing consideration and influence.
"You seem very busy, Lady Chaloner," he said, as he looked at the sheetsof paper on the table by her.
"We are gettin' up a bazaar," Lady Chaloner said. "Will you help us?"
"I shall be delighted," said Pateley obviously. "What do you want me todo?"
"Give us your autograph," said the Princess promptly, "and we will sellit for large sums of gold."
She had certainly chosen a skilful way of enlisting Pateley'sco-operation. He revelled in the joy of being a political potentate, andevery fresh proof that he received of the fact was another delight tohim.
"I shall be greatly honoured," he said.
"We are going to have autographs of all the distinguished people we canfind," said the Princess, continuing her system of ingratiation.
"I can tell you of an autograph who has just arrived," said Pateley. "Ihave just seen him driving up from the station; a very expensiveautograph indeed--Lord Stamfordham."
"Lord Stamfordham?" said Lady Chaloner, the Foreign Secretary, like therest of the world, falling instantly into his place in her kaleidescope."Certainly, if he would give us a dozen autographs we should do anexcellent business with them."
"You had better make Adela Prestige ask him, then," said the Princesswith a laugh.
"I wonder where Adela is?" said Lady Chaloner, considering the questionentirely on its merits.
"That depends upon where Lord Stamfordham is," murmured the Princess toher companion. "By the way, Lady Chaloner, before we part, it isTuesday, isn't it, that we make our expedition to Waldlust to lunch inthe wood?"
"Tuesday?--let me see, this is Thursday. Yes, I think so," said LadyChaloner. Then she gave a cry of dismay. "Oh! no, Maddy, Tuesday is thebazaar; that will never do."
"Oh, yes," said the Princess, "all the better. The bazaar doesn't opentill half-past five after all, and we can lunch at half-past twelve. Itwill do us good to be in the fresh air before our labours begin; weshall look all the better for it."
"Very well," said Lady Chaloner dubiously. "But then what about thearrangements?"
"Can't those be made on Monday?" said the Princess; "and if there areany finishing touches required, Mrs. Birkett and her friends can do themon Tuesday. They won't want to look their best, I daresay," and shelaughed again.
"Very well," said Lady Chaloner. "Tuesday, then, for Waldlust. I willask Lord Stamfordham to come."
"And I will ask Adela," said the Princess.
"Come then, Moricourt," said the Princess, "if you want to rehearse thatplay before we act it."
"Pray do," said Lady Chaloner anxiously. "I am sure people who actalways rehearse first."
"I am more than willing," said M. de Moricourt, throwing an infinity ofexpression into his voice and glance as he looked at the Princess.
"Some parts especially will require a great deal of rehearsing." Andthey departed together.
"She is so amusin'," said Lady Chaloner to Pateley. "I really don't knowanybody that can be more amusin' when she likes."
Pateley gave a round, sonorous laugh of agreement, tantamount to a smileof assent in any one else. He wisely did not commit himself to anyexpression of opinion as to the accomplished wit of the Princess, whichat all events as far as he had had opportunity of observing it, did notstrike him as being of a very subtle character.