REPULSED
JEM had been listening to Meg with rapt attention as she sang her
songs. He could hardly believe that the girl standing so quietly on
the platform dressed in that green shimmering dress, and surrounded by
all the rank and fashion of the neighbourhood, was the same with whom
he had sat out the storm and to whom he had spoken of marriage on the
heath two years ago.
He remembered her soft laugh as he had mentioned the subject that day,
and how quickly she had stifled it on seeing it hurt him. But if she
laughed then, when he had all to give her and she had nothing, what
would she do now?
It was during the intervals that these bitter thoughts crowded across
his mind. While the girl was actually singing he could think of nothing
but her and her song.
He loved her so that he wondered that she did not feel him even right
away on the platform. Had Meg looked at him as he was looking at her
he knew she would be conscious of the fact. Perhaps if he looked long
enough her eyes might be drawn towards him.
When her first song was finished and she had disappeared, the time
dragged. So long were the minutes, that he began to wonder if she were
going to sing again or if his chance of watching her was over. He could
hardly bear the thought of this. How he was to endure the fact that
she was at Friars Court, within a mile or two of the town in which he
lived, without seeing her or speaking to her, he did not know. But as
these thoughts coursed through his mind he heard a loud clapping and
once more Meg stood before him. Her eyes were shining and a happy smile
played about her lips.
Jem groaned. He had imagined that to see her happy and cared for, would
satisfy him, but he had deceived himself. As he stood and looked at
her, he felt he could not do without her—and he groaned, as he became
aware that she could never be part of his life again. She did not want
him. Had he had a suspicion that she was in difficulty or need he would
have taken no time in making her aware of his presence, but that happy
smile and those shining eyes were a death knell to his hopes: for he
loved her too much to disturb her in any way, or to come between her
and happiness. If Meg became aware of his proximity he knew her well
enough to be sure that she would welcome him. But to make himself known
to her would put her in an awkward position and perhaps disturb her
peaceful existence. He was not going to be such a brute as to run a
chance of doing this. So he listened hungrily to her singing and drank
in every expression of her face.
Suddenly the song stopped and a loud clapping told him that others
beside him knew how to appreciate her voice. His heart beat. Was this
to be the last of it? Was he to hear her voice no more?
But even before there was time to answer the question she had broken
out into "The Last Rose of Summer." Jem stood entranced.
Then it seemed to him that Meg looked straight into his eyes over the
heads of the people. Surely she had recognised him and was singing
directly to him and for him. It seemed like a call. Forgetful that he
was trespassing, forgetful of all his surroundings and of the grand
folk that sat in groups before the platform, he pushed through the
undergrowth, breaking branches on his way, vaulted the fence and made
for the platform.
Then he stopped still as if he had been struck. Was she—could she be
running away from him? Could it be true that Meg did not wish to see
him; did not want to remember her old life; preferred to drop her old
friend? Was it possible that he was nothing to her now?
He stood rooted to the spot. Then he saw a man servant coming towards
him. It was doubtless to inform him that he was trespassing.
He would not wait to be told that. He turned away, stumbling blindly
towards the road.
* * * * * *
Sheila stood and looked at the empty chairs and laughed bitterly. The
day that was to celebrate her triumph had closed in disappointment. Meg
had behaved shockingly. She had had no business to sing "The Last Rose
of Summer" without consulting her; and as for her final denouement! She
had acted like a common schoolgirl.
Sheila had not been near her since she had disgraced herself by
springing off the platform, so she had no idea as to the cause of her
extraordinary action. But whatever it was it only proved that it was
quite impossible to inculcate proper behaviour into a girl who had
spent her life among hedges and ditches. Well, Meg had had her chance
and had not profited by it. She had thoroughly disappointed the one who
had given it to her, and it seemed to Sheila that now there was nothing
more to be done.
"Of course everyone will laugh at my failure," she thought bitterly.
"It's most provoking. However, it will be an excuse for sending Meg
away. I am quite tired of her companionship. She will have to look out
for herself and get her living the best way she can."
Meg did not come down to dinner, and Sheila took no pains to find
out the cause. No doubt she was ashamed of herself, she thought, and
dreaded meeting her after such unwarrantable behaviour.