in letters two inches high, giving the idea that a hungry crowd was
waiting to surge in and take the seats.
The second man, trained within an inch of his life, had been already
kindled by the enthusiasm of his superior, and shared his vigils.
This very evening there had been hopes deferred and sickened hearts
over the indifference of the public to a menu fit for a king. Were
there not consomme royale, filet of sole, maitre d'hotel, poulet en
casserole, pommes de terres sautes, haricots verts, and a wonderful
Camembert? A savory could be inserted in an instant, and a sweet
arranged in the twinkling of an eye.
"A carriage, Walter! Prepare!"
Both flew silently to the window.
"Two ladies; ah, they are not alighting! They wish to know if there is
evening service in the cathedral."
"A gentleman, Walter! In a four-wheeler!"
"No, he dines not. He has come to request his umbrella of the
porter."
"A hansom, Walter!"
"Ah, they alight. She is of an elegance unmistakable. They are young
married ones, and will dine well. Hasten, Walter, and order both sweet
and savory!"
Fergus and Tommy looked about the cozy room with pleasure as they
entered, receiving the salute of Gustave and the English bow of Walter
as tributes to their deep, unspoken hopes.
"Where will you sit, Miss Tucker?" asked Appleton, and as he spoke his
quick eye observed the "Engaged" placard, and with lightning dexterity
he steered his guest toward that table. (There _was_ an opening, if
you like!) Not quick enough for Tommy, though, for she had seen it and
dropped into a seat several feet away, declaring its position was
perfect. Gustave put menus before his distinguished clients with a
flourish, and indicated the wine card as conspicuously as was
consistent with good form. Then he paused and made mental notes of the
situation.
"Ah, very good, very good," murmured Appleton. "You might move the
flowers, please; they rather hide--the view; and bring the soup,
please."
"Very young married ones!" thought Gustave, summoning his slave and
retiring to a point where he could watch the wine card. Walter brought
the consomme, and then busied himself at the other tables. They would
never be occupied, but it was just as well to pretend, so he set
hideous colored wine-glasses, red, green, and amber, at the various
places, and polished them ostentatiously with a clean napkin in the
hope that the gentleman would experience a desire for liquid
refreshment.
"This is very jolly, and very unexpected," said Appleton.
"It is, indeed."
"I hope you don't miss the nest-egg."
"You mustn't call it a nest-egg! That's a stale thing, or a china one
that they leave in, I don't know why--for an example, or a pattern, or
a suggestion," said Tommy, laughing. "An egg from the nest is Miss
Scattergood's phrase, and it means a new-laid one."
"Oh, I see!--well, do you regret it?"
"Certainly not, with this sumptuous repast just beginning!"
"You always give me an appetite," exclaimed Appleton.
"It's a humble function, but not one to be despised," Tommy answered
mischievously, fencing, fencing every minute, with her heart beating
against her ribs like a sledge-hammer.
Walter brought the fish and solicitously freed the wine card that had
somehow crept under a cover of knives and forks.
"I beg ten thousand pardons. What will you drink, Miss Tucker? We must
have a drop of something to cheer us at a farewell dinner. Here is a
vintage champagne, a good honest wine that will hearten us up and
leave no headache in its train."
"I couldn't to-night, Mr. Appleton; I really couldn't."
"Then I refuse to be exhilarated alone," said Fergus gallantly; "and
you always have the effect of champagne on me anyway. I decline to say
good-bye. I can't even believe it is 'au revoir' between us. We had
such delightful days ahead, and so many plans."
"Yes; it isn't nice to make up your mind so suddenly that it turns
everything topsy-turvy," sighed Tommy--"I won't have any meat, thank
you."
Walter looked distinctly grieved. "I can recommend the
pulley-ong-cazzerole, miss, and there's potatoes sortey with it."
Tommy's appetite kindled at the sound of his accent, and she relented.
"Yes, I'll have a small portion, please, after all."
"When friends are together the world seems very small, and when they
are separated it becomes a space too vast for human comprehension--I
think I've heard that before, but it's true," said Appleton.
"Yes," Tommy answered, for lack of anything better to say.
"It seems as if we had known each other for years."
"And it is less than three weeks," was Tommy's contribution to the
lagging conversation.
"The bishop offered me a letter of introduction to you when he wrote
me at the Bexley Sands Inn, you remember, but he added in a postscript
that in case of accident he was not to be held responsible. Rather
cryptic, I thought--at the time."
"A little Commonburg, sir?" asked Walter. "It is a very fine ripe one,
and we have some fresh water-cress."
"'Commonburg,' Miss Tucker? No? Then bring the coffee, please."
A desperate silence fell between them, they who had talked unendingly
for days and evenings!
When Walter brought the tray with the coffee-pot and the two little
cups, Appleton suddenly pushed his chair back, saying: "Let us take
our coffee over by the window, shall we, and perhaps I may have a
cigarette later? Don't light the gas, waiter--we want to see the hills
and the afterglow."
There was no avoiding it; Appleton and the waiter conveyed Tommy
helplessly over to a table commanding the view and the sunset, and it
was the one on which the huge "Engaged" placard reared itself
persuasively and suggestively.
"We shall need nothing more, waiter; you may go; I think this will
cover the bill,"--and scorning the chair opposite Tommy, Appleton
seated himself beside her.
"You have turned your back to the afterglow," she said, as she reached
forward to move "Engaged" to a position a trifle less obvious.
"I don't care tuppence about the afterglow," and Appleton covered her
hand with his own. "Make it come true, dear, dear Tommy! Make it come
true!"
"What?" she asked, between a smile and a tear.
"The placard, dear, the placard! If you should travel the world over,
you couldn't find a man who loves you as I do."
"What would be the use in my traveling about to find another man when
I am so satisfied with this one?" whispered Tommy. "Oh, remember! they
may come back at any moment!"
"I will, I will, if only I may have the comfort of holding your hand
after all my miserable doubts! I never knew what companionship meant
before I met you! I never really cared about life until now."
"I have always cared about it, but never like this," confessed Tommy.
"You see, I have always been alone, ever since I grew up."
"And I! How wonderful of Fate to bring us together! And will you let
me cable to the churches that you cannot come home just yet?"
"You think I'd better not go--so soon?"
"Without me? Never! You shall go anywhere you like, any time you like,
so long as you take me with you. We'll settle all those things
to-morrow--the blessedest day that ever dawned, that's what to-morrow
will be! Couldn't you marry me to-morrow, Tommy?"
"Certainly not! At any rate--not in the morning!" said Tommy
mischievously, withdrawing her hand and moving out of the danger
zone.
"And you must remember that your talent is your own, to use as you
like!" Appleton continued after a well-filled pause. "Your voice is a
unique and precious gift. I'll try not to be selfish with it, or
jealous of it, though if it had half the effect on other men that it
has upon me, the floor would be strewn with broken hearts every time
you sing!"--and he hummed under his breath:
"I hardly know, my darling,
What mostly took my heart,
Unless perhaps your singing
Has done the greater part."
"Oh, you dear absurdity!" said Tommy, twinkling and sparkling
enchantingly.--"I wish the waiter wouldn't come in every time I want
to say something especially private!"
"'Confound his politics, frustrate his knavish tricks,' but we shall
soon be out of his reach, spinning along to the palace."
"Are we going there? Oh! I shall be afraid to tell the bishop and Mrs.
Kennion!"
"You needn't be. I told Mrs. Kennion this afternoon that I loved you
to distraction. If the bishop is back from Bath, she'll have passed on
the information by now."
"I was just going to say, when the waiter came so near, that it isn't
the public I love, it's the singing! Just to sing and sing, that's
what I long to do!"
"And what you shall do, so help me! You know you wanted me to find a
new name for you? Wasn't I clever to think of Appleton?"
"Very! And you're kindly freeing me of half of my 'bizarre
Americanism,' as my Torquay correspondent called it. How shall we deal
with Thomasina?"
"We'll call her Tommy. A darling, kissable little name, Tommy!--No,
I'm not going to do anything!"
"You don't think it's cowardly of me to marry you?"
"Cowardly?"
"Yes, when I haven't actually proved that I can earn my living; at
least, I haven't done it long enough, or well enough, yet."
"I think it's brave of you to marry me."
"Brave?"
"To turn your back on a possible career."
"It's not the 'careering' that I love; though it will seem very
strange when Tommy Tucker doesn't have to sing for her supper!--Shall
we go? The waiter is coming in again. I believe he thinks we are going
to run off with the spoons!"
"So we are! At least, when we go, the spoons will go! I know it's a
poor joke, but I am too happy to be brilliant. Call the head waiter,
please,"--this to Walter, who despaired of ever getting rid of his
guests, and was agreeably disappointed that a gentleman who had not
ordered wine should ask for Gustave.
Appleton took the "Engaged" placard off the table and used it
nonchalantly as a fan in crossing the room. Then as he drew near the
men he slipped two gold pieces into Tommy's hand.
"May I carry away this placard, waiter?" he asked, as if it were quite
a sane request. "I've taken a fancy to it as a souvenir of a most
delightful and memorable dinner."
"Assuredly, assuredly!" murmured Gustave. He knew that there was
romance in the air, although he did not perceive the exact point of
Appleton's request.
"The young lady will reward you for your courtesy. No; I'll help with
her jacket, thank you."
Tommy, overcome with laughter and confusion and blushes, pressed the
gold pieces into the hands of the astonished waiters, who bowed almost
to the floor.
"You are always giving me sovereigns, dear Fergus," she whispered with
a laugh and something like a sob, as they drove along in the delicious
nearness provided by the hansom.
"Never mind," said Fergus. "You will be giving me one when you marry
me!"