Half-an-hour passed by, fraught with the deepest suspense and anxiety to
the waiting party in Number 10; then Philippa's step was heard running
up the stairs, and in she came, white no longer, but smiling, rosy,
abeam with complacency.
"Where is Barney?" cried four voices eagerly; and she seated herself
before the fire, crossed her hands on her lap, and regarded her audience
with the prospective satisfaction of one who knows that she is about to
make a sensation.
"Barney," she said slowly, "is enjoying himself so much that he refused
to come away! He is invited to stay for the evening. He is at present
employed in helping Mr Neil to catalogue specimens for his microscope."
"Wh-at!" gasped Stephen incredulously, while Theo caught hold of her
sister by the shoulders and gave her an impatient shake. "Phil, be
sensible! Tell it properly. Begin at the moment when you knocked at
the door, and go right through to the end. Now then, begin!"
"We-ll," drawled Philippa comfortably, "I rang, and a boy came to the
door--I don't think there is a woman on the premises. Mr Neil heard our
voices, and came out to see what was wanted. He took us into his room,
which is all books and litter, and a great big microscope on a stand by
the window. Don't ask me what I said, for I don't know. I only
remember his face looking so startled and sorry. He is really very
nice-looking, you know; and he wears a velvet coat Barney behaved well.
He said, `I'm sorry, sir, if I have annoyed you. It was only a joke.'
And Mr Neil said, `All right, my boy, that is settled. We won't say
anything more about it. Are you interested in microscopes!' After that
we went over to the stand, and he explained what he was doing, and
showed us the workings. It was very exciting. Barney was in raptures,
and I was quite horrified to find how long we had stayed. He was as
nice and kind as he could be, and I believe it is the beginning of
peace. Oh, my dears, such dust! I longed for a brush and shovel. No
wonder he looks ill, living alone in that dreary place, with only a boy
to attend to him. I believe he is starved."
"He is a real good sort, anyway, to behave so well to that boy. I'll
call on him some night, and perhaps we can return his kindness by asking
him here occasionally. I am glad peace is settled, but I am not done
with Mr Barney yet. He must promise me to give up these foolish
tricks," said Stephen severely. He himself had never played a trick in
his life, and could not imagine wherein the fun lay.
When Barney came upstairs an hour later he was taken into the
dining-room and lectured in solemn, elder-brotherly fashion; and being
in the highest of spirits, obediently promised all that was desired.
"I sha'n't want to rag him any more, because, you see, we shall be
pals," he explained. "He wants me to go down whenever I feel inclined,
and that will be pretty often; because, though the girls are bricks, a
man does like another man to talk to sometimes. He's terrifically
clever! You should see all the things he has made himself--little
mechanical businesses that you can't buy. He is going to let me watch
him when he is at work. I fancy he felt a bit bad when Phil ate
humble-pie, and wants to make up by being extra amiable and friendly."
It was just as well that the Hermit had been conciliated, for in the
days which followed Hope was constantly practising her songs and
reciting her story to an imaginary audience in the drawing-room. Mary,
sweeping the tiny hall, would open her eyes in amazement as a voice
cried dramatically: "Fairy Godmother! Fairy Godmother! can you not help
me now? I'm so lonely up here in this deserted tower. Is the spell not
broken yet, dear Godmother?" And the fairy answered: "Patience,
Princess Chrystal! Wait but a few hours longer. To-morrow morn, as the
sun creeps round the corner of the poplar tree, look out of your
casement window, and you will see"--Mary was all agape to know what the
Princess Chrystal would see, but Philippa came bustling out of the
dining-room and, half-laughing, half-frowning, sent her about her work.
Later on a message-boy who was waiting for an answer to a note grew
quite pale with agitation as an unseen giant hissed out, "To your knees,
rash youth! Before another hour is past you shall be chained in the
lowest dungeon beneath the castle moat!" It was really quite alarming,
and the message-boy informed his companions who were waiting for him in
the road below that there was a lunatic upstairs, who was raging and
carrying on "somethink krool."
The first performance was a nervous occasion, and Hope realised the full
difficulty of the task which she had undertaken when she stood upon the
platform of the mission-room vainly trying to gain a hearing from a
crowd of noisy, excited children. Appeal was useless, but at length the
happy idea struck her to begin with a song; so down she sat at the
piano, struck up a lively air, and gave the first verse with such spirit
and go that at the word "Chorus!" there was quite a creditable attempt
at the refrain. After that it was comparatively easy to keep the
attention which she had gained, although she had rarely before
experienced such tiring work. For a first attempt the performance was a
distinct success--ay, more than a success--for it proved the existence
of many weak spots, demanded more prominence for dramatic incidents, and
proved that, given time and experience, she need not fear the most
critical juvenile audience.
Twice more did Hope give a performance of the fairy play before the
long-delayed circulars were ready, and she started forth on the
difficult work of distribution, with Madge as companion, guide, and
administrator of much-needed courage. Any girl who has tried to earn
her own living will have discovered how different becomes the demeanour
of those in authority when the supposed customer turns out to be herself
in need of help. It is a painful revelation, and the moral which it
teaches us is, to be gracious to other poor suppliants if it ever comes
to our turn to be in authority. Madge had made a list of those
entertainment bureaux where tickets can be obtained for theatres and
concerts, and arrangements made for drawing-room entertainments; but
when the first of these establishments was reached Hope made three
successive bolts post the door before she could be induced to enter.
Her embarrassment was greatly increased by the fact that several other
people were in the shop, ready to listen and to stare with curious eyes
as she mumbled her request. The assistant ran his eye carelessly over
the leaflet--Madge's masterpiece, printed regardless of expense on thick
rough paper with torn edges--did not think there was any demand for that
sort of thing; was afraid it was not in their line. No, did not object
to keeping the advertisement; would put it on the stand if there was
room; and before the girls had turned aside, had flicked it carelessly
into a drawer.
Hope was trembling, crimson of cheek, and inclined to turn tail and make
a short cut for home; but Madge's chin was in the air, and her face set
in determined lines.
"Snob!" she cried scornfully; "working himself, and despising others
because they try to do the same. Dear Hope, don't look so doleful. You
surely won't let yourself be discouraged by a worm like that."
"Oh, it is so hateful!" murmured poor Hope tremulously. "Suppose they
_all_ treat us in the same way. You know very well, Madge, that that
circular will never see the light."
"Oh, won't it, though? It shall be up on that board before a week is
over," returned Madge obstinately; and when breathlessly questioned how
and why, she answered imperturbably, "Haven't the slightest idea, but
I'll find out a way. Cheer up now, and for goodness' sake don't look as
if you were ashamed of yourself. I'd send you home and go the round
myself if we could exchange faces for the occasion, but if you will only
perk up you can do far better than I. Look smiling and self-possessed,
and as if you were rather conferring than asking a favour."
It was admirable advice, but, alas! Hope was not the girl to carry it
into effect. Her cheeks would flush; her voice _would_ shake; she
looked so unmistakably the amateur that, in spite of her charming
appearance, she met with but scant success wherever she went. No one
actually refused her circular, but the manner of its acceptance was so
lukewarm and careless that it would have depressed the stoutest heart.
Even Madge looked downcast when home was reached, but she was smiling
again by dinner-time; and what was more, Philippa and Theo were smiling
too, with a mischievous enjoyment which seemed strangely unsympathetic
to the crushed adventurer.
For several days no explanation was forthcoming; then came an afternoon
when housekeeper and author arrayed themselves in all the splendour they
possessed and sallied forth on a mysterious errand. Hope wondered,
questioned, and was amiably snubbed for her pains; but at five o'clock
back came two flushed, triumphant conspirators, only too eager to tell
the tale of their adventures.
"We have been working for you, my dear," cried Phil, nodding cheery
encouragements at the dear, pretty sister who had grown to look so
pathetically pale and wistful of late; "but the idea came from Madge, so
you have to thank her most of all. Well, we sallied forth, and went the
round of the shops where you had left your circulars. Theo took one
direction, I took another, and we met at the Stores. The first shop I
went into was empty, and I had quite a long talk with the man. I wanted
to know what entertainment he could provide for a juvenile party. He
suggested a magic-lantern--cinematograph--Punch and Judy--conjurer. I
looked profoundly bored, and drawled out, `So terribly commonplace!
Have you nothing _new_?' He declared there was nothing else, and I was
feeling very baffled and angry, when suddenly he remembered your
circular, and began searching for it in a drawer. I regarded it with
judicial calm, thought the terms rather high, but on the whole was much
taken with the idea. The difficulty, of course, was to withdraw without
settling anything definitely; but some other people came in, and I
murmured polite nothings about `thinking it over,' and beat a retreat.
At the next place my pumping failed, for the wretch had forgotten all
about you, or had thrown your circular into the fire. You must send him
another with a polite reminder of his promise to find you engagements,
`subject, of course, to the usual commission.' Number three had
actually pinned you up on the board, beside the Performing Brothers and
the Negro Troupe. He ought to have been an author, for he had a
beautiful imagination! When I inquired about you he waxed quite
enthusiastic about your abilities and popularity. I regarded him more
in joy than in anger, and hoped he embroidered as eloquently to all his
customers."
"Oh! oh!" cried Hope, aghast. She was torn in twain between elation and
pangs of conscience. "How sweet of you, Phil! But--do you think it is
quite right?"
"Why not? Does not every unknown author implore his friends to ask for
his books at their libraries and express untold surprise because they
are unknown? Why should not we advertise you in your turn?"
"You must be boomed, my dear, or you may wait for ever for an
engagement. I was even more bold than Phil," confessed Theo, "for I
purposely hung about until other people went into the shop, and then
spoke in such a loud voice that they were obliged to hear what I said.
They seemed quite interested, and I left one lady reading the circular
and asking questions about you. In another shop I said in an anxious
voice, `I _hope_ she will be able to come to me when I want her. Will
it be necessary to engage her a _long_ time ahead?' The man looked as
solemn as an owl, and said, `Well, madam, it would be wise. There is
sure to be a rush in the Christmas holidays.' What do you think of
that? Won't it be exciting when the letters come in?"
There was no doubt about that, but unfortunately no letters arrived; and
the weeks passed by, and the Christmas holidays began, and not a mother
in the whole Metropolis expressed the slightest desire to engage the
services of the "children's charming entertainer." Hope's wistful look
each time that the postman's knock came to the door moved her sisters to
fresh efforts on her behalf, and an ingeniously worded inquiry was
despatched for publication in the pages of a popular fashion magazine:
"Can any lady recommend a new form of entertainment for a children's
party? No lanterns, conjurers, or marionettes. Early answer much
appreciated."
An early answer was, in fact, in readiness from the hour when the
inquiry was posted, wherein Theo was prepared to certify that, having
heard Miss Hope Charrington's entertainment (at the mission-room of
Saint Paul's Church!), she was able most enthusiastically to recommend
it to all mothers and guardians. Alas! the all-important inquiry was
one of many more "unavoidably delayed through want of space," and how to
reply to an advertisement which had never appeared was a problem which
baffled even Madge's ingenuity.
"I shall go to see Minnie Caldecott this afternoon," announced Hope one
Tuesday morning when the post had produced nothing more inspiring than a
couple of circulars and a coal-bill. "I can't sit here any longer doing
nothing, and it is evidently no use writing to her. I have not even
heard if the song arrived. Would any one like to come with me and get a
peep into professional life?--Theo?"
"Yes," said the author quickly. "It will be `copy,' and I want it
badly. I have quite a stock of heroes and heroines on hand--fascinating
creatures, every one--but I can't think what to do with them! Perhaps
one might be a public singer. I've given her a lovely voice already.
I'll come, Hope, and make a study of the lady while you discuss
business."
A few hours later, therefore, behold the two sisters seated in the warm,
flower-scented little room, where the portraits of becurled ladies still
smirked from the walls, and the presiding goddess dispensed tea, and
kept up a stream of cheerful, inconsequent babble. She appeared
overjoyed to see her visitors, kissed them effusively, addressed Hope
affectionately as "Miss What's-your-name," and declared that she
remembered her quite well. "You brought me a song with ridiculous
words; and you have all come up to town to make your fortunes. It isn't
too easy, is it? I'm supposed to be one of the lucky ones, but it is
the solemn truth, my dears, that there are only a few pounds between
myself and the workhouse. It is a hand-to-mouth business, and what with
cabs and gloves, there is precious little to be made out of these
suburban engagements. I shall have to get married one of these days.
There is one man now--that is his portrait on the mantelpiece--the one
with the big nose! He has been worrying me for years, and I tell him
the first time I get a really bad cold on my chest I'll marry him then
and there. I could never stand the expense of an illness. Look at that
girl laughing! It is your sister, isn't it, dear? What is her name!
Theo! I say, how toney! Are you clever too, Theo? What is your line?"
"I--write!" replied Theo, shrinking in anticipation of the question
which is fraught with so much humiliation to the would-be author. Of
course, Miss Caldecott would instantly want to know what she had written
and where it could be found, and then how agonising to be obliged to
explain that; with the exception of a few stories in a village paper,
not a word of her writing had yet appeared in print! Hope came to the
rescue with a reply which was at once tactful and diplomatic, since it
turned the conversation into the desired channel.
"I have been keeping her busy lately. She has been writing children's
stories for an entertainment which I am hoping to give. I brought one
of the advertisements to show you, as I thought you might be
interested."
The undisguised yawn with which Miss Caldecott greeted this announcement
was the reverse of encouraging; but she read the circular with
increasing interest, pronounced the idea to be "rattling good," and
wanted to know who was responsible for the design. "I'll have a
programme got up like that some day," she declared; but she yawned again
when the girls expatiated on the skill of their artist-sister, and
interrupted with another question:
"Have you written any more songs lately?"
Hope looked at her gravely, and found it impossible to keep a tinge of
reproach out of her voice as she replied, "Why, of course! You know I
have. I have been waiting for weeks to hear what you thought of the one
I wrote especially for you."
"Gracious!" ejaculated Miss Caldecott; "I never got it. I remember now
that you _did_ write to me about it, but I get so many letters that I
forget half what's in them. I've never seen it, anyway. Perhaps it is
in that cupboard with the newspapers. That is my bogy-hole, and if I
haven't time to open things I stick them in there, and forget all about
them. You can look if you like, dear; I'm too lazy."
There was an air of dignified displeasure in the manner in which Hope
crossed the room to avail herself of this permission; but Miss Caldecott
drank her tea in blissful unconsciousness, and when the MS was
discovered, wrapped in an unopened covering, exclaimed cheerily:
"Think of that now! It would have lain there till doomsday if you
hadn't looked. Do you want me to hear it? Strum it over, then, my
dear; but I give you notice that I'm full up for this season."
"But--but it was a commission! You _asked_ me to write it," cried Hope,
stung into retort by the keenness of her disappointment. "Don't you
remember saying you wanted a domestic song about children, to make the
mothers cry? You suggested the words yourself, and we carried out your
idea."
"I suggested it, did I? How clever of me! I suppose I saw you were
disappointed, dear, and wanted to let you down easily. I hate being
disagreeable, but I never thought you would take it seriously. Here!
let me see it. I can tell in a moment if it is any good."
She rose, and standing by the piano, glanced over the pages once or
twice, then motioned to Hope to play the accompaniment. The next moment
the rich, melodious tones filled the room, and Theo held her breath in
rapturous enjoyment. What a glorious organ of a voice--how sweet, how
full, how true! What a melting tenderness of expression! What skill in
seizing on effective phrases and bringing them delicately into
prominence! If her eyes had been shut, what a lovely, spirituelle
vision she would have pictured as the owner of this wonderful voice!
But, alas! there stood Minnie Caldecott, flushed, fat, and tousled,
enveloped in the blue silk tea-gown, which was beginning to show decided
signs of age--as far removed from spirituality as it was possible for a
human creature to be. She sang the song to its last note, and nodded
her head approvingly at its conclusion.
"It is not at all bad, dear. Quite a fetching little song! I could
make them howl over that, couldn't I? And it is different from anything
I have on hand. I might find room for it sometimes, if we could agree
about other things. What was your idea as to terms?"
"Oh, thank you! You ore too kind. I did not think of charging you at
all. It would be an advertisement for me if you sang it, and that would
be sufficient payment."
Hope was fully convinced that she was acting in a generous manner, and
Theo agreed with this conclusion, so that it came as a shock to both
when Miss Caldecott burst into a peal of laughter, and cried loudly,
"Bless your innocent heart! I meant, what are you going to pay _me_?
Didn't you know that we were always paid for taking up a song? That is
why we sing such rubbish half the time. I'm a business woman, and can't
afford to work for nothing. I'd like to oblige you, dear, and it's a
useful little song in its way--I believe I could do something with it--
but I must have my commission."
"Then I am afraid it is no use discussing the subject any longer. I
cannot afford to pay anything," said Hope quietly. She had turned very
white, but her manner was calm and collected, and she rolled up the song
with an air of finality which showed that she meant what she said.
"Perhaps another day, when we are better off--"
"Charmed to see you, dear, at any time. But you'll never get on in the
world if you don't pay out a bit at first; or if you _do_, it will be a
mighty slow process. You think I'm a wretch, no doubt, but I dare say
if the truth were known I'm as hard up as you are yourself; and I have
no rich friends to help me. You _have_, and you ought to make them
useful. Now, I'll tell you what I _will_ do for you! You mention my
name when you hear of any one giving a reception, and every time you get
me an engagement I'll sing your song, and you shall play the
accompaniment. That would help us both, and I'll do as much for you if
I hear of any children's parties coming off."
Hope's thanks were very sweetly expressed, but disappointment was still
the predominating feeling, and when the sisters found themselves in the
street they exchanged a rueful glance under the light of a lamp.
"It seems as if no one wanted us," sighed Hope sadly. "Whatever we try
to do, there are a thousand people who do it a thousand times better. I
wonder if we shall _ever_ succeed."
"As Mr Hammond said, it depends upon how much heart-breaking we can
stand. We never shall if we lose heart before six months are over,"
said Theo sturdily. "Cheer up, old girl; those letters will be arriving
soon, and then you will be too busy to be depressed."
Hope sighed and was silent. The ache at her heart made disappointment
harder to bear, and Miss Caldecott's offer of help seemed at present of
little value. Aunt Loftus might, indeed, be willing to engage the
services of a professional, but there was no one else of whom such a
favour could be asked, and the reflection brought an added sense of
friendlessness to the tired girl as she walked home through the crowded
streets.
It is always the darkest hour before the dawn. So says the proverb, and
in this instance it was fully justified, for no sooner had the girls
passed the Hermit's door than Philippa and Mudge flew to meet them, each
waving a letter in her hand and keeping up a loud, excited chatter.
"For you, Hope! At last! Here they come!"
"A coat of arms. Such lovely paper! Beautiful writing."
"Mine is from one of the agencies. Application from a client, no doubt.
Be quick--be quick! We are dying to read them."
"Why didn't you open them, then? It is your business as well as mine."
Hope opened the agency letter first, and shuddered dramatically at the
intelligence that a certain Mrs Annesley would be glad to engage her
services for the evening of December the 27th; then came the turn of the
second letter, and her sisters saw the pale cheeks deepen into rose as
she read its contents.
"It is from a Mrs Welsby, in Belgrave Square, a sister of the Mr
Merrilies who was at The Shanty. He has told her about me, and she
wants me for the 29th. I--I think I shall take a berth on an Atlantic
liner and emigrate. I daren't face it. I shall make an idiot of
myself; I know I shall."
"All right. If you don't go--_I shall_!" cried Madge. "I can sing
too--in a fashion--and that money would be remarkably useful to us just
now. Choose between yourself and me; that is the position."
There was no sympathy forthcoming for Hope's nervousness; on the
contrary, she was made to feel that it was her duty to overcome any such
feeling, and to do her best for the sake of the family. Happy girl! her
chance had come, while others were still waiting their turn; it was they
who were in need of pity, not one to whom a longed-for opportunity had
been given. Hope listened, assented, and let no further word of dread
pass her lips. In truth, after the first shock was over, she forgot
everything but one absorbing question--would Ralph be at Mrs Welsby's
party? Would she be able to speak to him? Would his face lighten at
the sight of her, as it had done during that happy fortnight at The
Shanty? At one moment she longed passionately to meet him; at the next
she almost wished him absent, since it would be doubly difficult to be
natural and unconstrained beneath his scrutiny.