HOW FUNDS WERE PROVIDED.
Mr. Moss at this interview again pressed his loan of money upon poor
Rachel.
"You cannot get on, my dear young lady, in this world without money.
If you have spent your income hitherto, what do you mean to do till
the end of November? At Covent Garden the salaries are all paid
monthly."
There was something so ineffably low and greasy in his tone of
addressing her, that it was impossible to be surprised at the disgust
which she expressed for him.
"Mr. Moss, I am not your dear young lady," she said.
"Would that you were! We should be as happy as the day is long.
There would be no money troubles then." She could not fail to make
comparisons between him and the English nobleman who had just left
her, which left the Englishman infinitely superior; although, with
the few thoughts she had given to him, she had already begun to doubt
whether Lord Castlewell's morality stood very high. "What will you do
for money for the next three months? You cannot do without money,"
said Mr. Moss.
"I have already found a friend," said Rachel most imprudently.
"What! his lordship there?"
"I am not bound to answer any such questions."
"But I know; I can see the game is all up if it has come to that. I
am a fellow-workman, and there have been, and perhaps will be, many
relations between us. A hundred pounds advanced here or there must be
brought into the accounts sooner or later. That is honest; that will
bear daylight; no young lady need be ashamed of that; even if you
were Mrs. Jones you need not be ashamed of such a transaction."
"I am not Mrs. Jones," said Rachel in great anger.
"But if you were, Mr. Jones would have no ground of complaint, unless
indeed on the score of extravagance. But a present from this lord!"
"It is no present. It does not come from the lord; it comes from the
funds of the theatre."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Moss. "Is that the little game with which
he attempts to cajole you? How has he got his hand into the treasury
of the theatre, so that he may be able to help you so conveniently?
You have not got the money yet, I suppose?"
"I have not got his money--which may be dangerous, or yours--which
would certainly be more so. Though from neither of you could the bare
money hurt me, if it were taken with an innocent heart. From you it
would be a distress, an annoyance, a blister. From him it would be
simply a loan either from himself or from the theatre with which he
is connected. I may be mistaken, but I have imagined that it would
come from the theatre; I will ascertain, and if it be not so, I will
decline the loan."
"Do you not know his character? nor his mode of living, nor his
dealing with actresses? You will not at any rate get credit for such
innocence when you tell the story. Why;--he has come here to call
upon you, and of course it is all over the theatre already that you
are his mistress. I came in here to endeavour to save you; but I fear
it is too late."
"Impudent scoundrel," said Rachel, jumping up and glaring at him.
"That is all very well, but I have endeavoured to save you. I would
believe none of them when they told me that you would not be my wife
because you were married to Mr. Jones. Nor would I believe them when
they have told me since that you were not fit to be the wife of
anyone." Rachel's hand went in among the folds of her dress, and
returned with a dagger in it. Words had been said to her now which
she swore to herself were unbearable. "Yes; you are in a passion
now;" and as he said so, he contrived to get the round table with
which the room was garnished between himself and her.
"It is true," she said, "your words have been so base that I am no
doubt angry."
"But if you knew it, I am endeavouring to save you. Imprudent as
you have been I still wish to make you my wife." Here Rachel in her
indignation spat upon the floor. "Yes; I am anxious to make you an
honest woman."
"You can make no woman honest. It is altogether beyond your power."
"It will be so when you have taken this lord's money."
"I have not at any rate taken yours. It is that which would disgrace
me. Between this lord and me there has been no word that could do
so."
"Will he make you his wife?"
"Wife! No. He is married for aught that I know. He has spoken to me
no word except about my profession. Nor shall you. Cannot a woman
sing without being wife to any man?"
"Ha, ha, yes indeed!"
She understood the scorn intended to be thrown on her line of life by
his words, and was wretched to think that he was getting the better
of her in conversation. "I can sing and I need no husband."
"It is common with the friends of the lord that they do not generally
rank very high in their profession. I have endeavoured to save you
from this kind of thing, and see the return that I get! You will,
however, soon have left us, and you will then find that to fill first
place at 'The Embankment' is better than a second or a third at
Covent Garden."
During these hot words on both sides she had been standing at a
pier-glass, arranging something in her dress intended to suit Moss's
fancy upon the stage,--Moss who was about to enact her princely
lover--and then she walked off without another word. She went through
her part with all her usual vigour and charm, and so did he. Elmira
also was more pathetic than ever, as the night was supposed to be
something special, because a royal duke and his young bride were in
the stage box. The plaudits given would have been tremendous only
that the building was so small, and the grand quartette became such a
masterpiece that there was half a column concerning it in the musical
corner of the next morning's _Daily Telephone_. "If that girl would
only go as I'd have her," said Mr. Moss to the most confidential of
his theatrical friends, "I'd make her Mrs. Moss to-morrow, and her
fame should be blazoned all over the world before twelve months had
gone as Madame Moussa."
But Rachel, though she was enabled so to overcome her rage as to
remember only her theatrical passion when she was on the stage, spent
the whole of the subsequent night in thinking over the difficulty
into which she had brought herself by her imprudence. She understood
to the full the meaning of all those innuendoes which Mr. Moss had
provided for her; and she knew that though there was in them not a
spark of truth as regarded herself, still they were so truth-like as
to meet with acceptance, at any rate from all theatrical personages.
She had gone to M. Le Gros for the money clearly as one of the
theatrical company with which she was about to connect herself. M.
Le Gros had, to her intelligence, distinctly though very courteously
declined her request. It might be well that the company would accede
to no such request; but M. Le Gros, in his questionable civility, had
told the whole story to Lord Castlewell, who had immediately offered
her a loan of L200 out of his own pocket. It had not occurred to her
in the moment in which she had first read the words in the presence
of Mahomet M. M. that such must necessarily be the case. Was it
probable that Lord Castlewell should on his own behalf recover from
the treasury of the theatre the sum of L200? And then the nature of
this lord's character opened itself to her eyes in all the forms
which Mr. Moss had intended that it should wear. A man did not lend
a young lady L200 without meaning to secure for himself some reward.
And as she thought of it all she remembered the kind of language
in which she had spoken of her father. She had described him as an
American in words which might so probably give this noble old _roue_
a false impression as to his character. And yet she liked the noble
old _roue_--liked him so infinitely better than she did Mr. Moss. M.
Le Gros had betrayed her, or had, perhaps, said words leading to her
betrayal; but still she greatly preferred M. Le Gros to Mr. Moss.
She was safe as yet with this lord. Not a sparkle of his gold had
she received. No doubt the story about the money would be spread
about from her own telling of it. People would believe it because she
herself had said so. But it was still within her power to take care
that it should not be true. She did what was usual on such occasions.
She abused the ill-feeling of the world which by the malignity of
its suspicions would not scruple to drag her into the depths of
misfortune, forgetting probably that her estimation of others was the
same as others of her. She did not bethink herself that had another
young lady at another theatre accepted a loan from an unmarried lord
of such a character, she would have thought ill of that young lady.
The world ought to be perfectly innocent in regard to her because
she believed herself to be innocent; and Mr. Moss in expressing the
opinions of others, and exposing to her the position in which she had
placed herself, had simply proved himself to be the blackest of human
beings.
But it was necessary that she should at once do something to
whitewash her own character in her own esteem. This lord had declared
that he himself would call, and she was at first minded to wait
till he did so, and then to hand back to him the cheque which she
believed that he would bring, and to assure him that under altered
circumstances it would not be wanted. But she felt that it would best
become her to write to him openly, and to explain the circumstances
which had led to his offering the loan. "There is nothing like being
straightforward," she said to herself, "and if he does not choose to
believe me, that is his fault." So she took up her pen, and wrote
quickly, to the following effect:
MY DEAR LORD CASTLEWELL,
I want to tell you that I do not wish to have the L200
which you were good enough to say that you would lend me.
Indeed I cannot take it under any circumstances. I must
explain to you all about it, if your lordship pleases. I
had intended to ask M. Le Gros to get the theatre people
to advance me some small sum on my future engagement, and
I had not thought how impossible it was that they should
do so, as of course I might die before I had sung a single
note. I never dreamed of coming to you, whose lordship's
name I had not even heard in my ignorance. Then M. Le Gros
spoke to you, and you came and made your proposition in
the most good-natured way in the world. I was such a fool
as not to see that the money must of course come from
yourself.
Mr. Moss has enlightened me, and has made me understand
that no respectable young woman would accept a loan of
money from you without blemish to her character. Mr. Moss,
whom I do not in the least like, has been right in this. I
should be very sorry if you should be taught to think evil
of me before I go to your theatre; or indeed, if I do not
go at all. I am not up to all these things, and I suppose
I ought to have consulted my father the moment I got your
little note. Pray do not take any further notice of it.
I am, very faithfully,
Your lordship's humble servant,
RACHEL O'MAHONY.
Then there was added a postscript: "Your note has just come and I
return the cheque." As chance would have it the cheque had come just
as Rachel had finished her letter, and with the cheque there had been
a short scrawl as follows: "I send the money as settled, and will
call to-morrow."
Whatever may have been Lord Castlewell's general sins among actresses
and actors, his feelings hitherto in regard to Miss O'Mahony had not
done him discredit. He had already heard her name frequently when he
had seen her in her little carriage before the steps of Covent Garden
Theatre, and had heard her sing at "The Embankment." Her voice and
tone and feeling had enchanted him as he had wont to be enchanted by
new singers of high quality, and he had been greatly struck by the
brightness of her beauty. When M. Le Gros had told him of her little
wants, he had perceived at once her innocence, and had determined to
relieve her wants. Then, when she had told him of her father, and
had explained to him the kind of terms on which they lived together,
he was sure that she was pure as snow. But she was very lovely, and
he could not undertake to answer for what feelings might spring up
in her bosom. Now he had received this letter, and every word of it
spoke to him in her favour. He took, therefore, a little trouble, and
calling upon her the next morning at her lodgings, found her seated
with Mr. O'Mahony.
"Father," she said, when the lord was ushered into the room, "this is
Lord Castlewell. Lord Castlewell, this is my father."
Then she sat down, leaving the two to begin the conversation as they
might best please. She had told her father nothing about the money,
simply explaining that on the steps of the theatre she had met the
lord, who was one of its proprietors.
"Lord Castlewell," said Mr. O'Mahony, "I am very proud," then he
bowed. "I know very little about stage affairs, but I am confident
that my daughter will do her duty to the best of her ability."
"Not more so than I am," said Lord Castlewell, upon which Mr.
O'Mahony bowed again. "You have heard about this little _contretemps_
about the money."
"Not a word," said Mr. O'Mahony, shaking his head.
"Nor of the terrible character which has been given you by your
daughter?"
"That I can well understand," said Mr. O'Mahony.
"She says that you wish to abolish all the English aristocracy."
"Most of them," said Mr. O'Mahony. "Peradventure ten shall be found
honest, and I will not destroy them for ten's sake; but I doubt
whether there be one."
"I should be grieved to think that you were the judge."
"And so should I," said Mr. O'Mahony. "It is so easy to utter curses
when no power accompanies the utterances. The Lord must have found it
uncomfortable in regard to Sodom. I can spit out all my fury against
English vices and British greed without suffering one pang at my
heart. What is this that you were saying about Rachel and her money?"
"She is in a little trouble about cash at the present moment."
"Not a doubt about it."
"And I have offered to lend her a trifle--L200 or so, just till she
can work it off up at the theatre there."
"Then there is one of the ten at any rate," said Mr. O'Mahony.
"Meaning me?" asked the lord.
"Just so. Lending us L200, when neither of us have a shilling in our
pocket, is a very good deed. Don't you think so, Rachel?"
"No," said Rachel. "Lord Castlewell is not a fit person to lend me
L200 out of his pocket, and I will not have it."
"I did not know," said Mr. O'Mahony.
"You never know anything, you are such a dear, innocent old father."
"There's an end of it then," said he, addressing himself to the lord.
He did not look in the least annoyed because his daughter had refused
to take the loan, nor had he shown the slightest feeling of any
impropriety when there was a question as to her accepting it.
"Of course I cannot force it upon you," said Lord Castlewell.
"No; a lord cannot do that, even in this country, where lords go for
so much. But we are not a whit the less obliged to your lordship.
There are proprieties and improprieties which I don't understand.
Rachel knows all about them. Such a knowledge comes to a girl
naturally, and she chooses either the one or the other, according to
her nature. Rachel is a dragon of propriety."
"Father, you are a goose," said Rachel.
"I am telling his lordship the truth. There is some reason why you
should not take the money, and you won't take it. I think it very
hard that I should not have been allowed to earn it."
"Why were you not allowed?" asked the lord.
"Lest the people should be persuaded to rise up against you
lords,--which they very soon would do,--and will do. You are right in
your generation. The people were paying twenty-five cents a night to
come and hear me, and so I was informed that I must not speak to them
any more. I had been silenced in Galway before; but then I had spoken
about your Queen."
"We can't endure that, you know."
"So I learn. She's a holy of holies. But I promised to say nothing
further about her, and I haven't. I was talking about your Speaker of
the House of Commons."
"That's nearly as bad," said Lord Castlewell, shaking his head.
"A second-rate holy of holies. When I said that he ought to obey
certain rules which had been laid down for his guidance, I was told
to walk out. 'What may I talk about?' I asked. Then the policeman
told me 'the weather.' Even an Englishman is not stupid enough to pay
twenty-five cents for that. I am only telling you this to explain why
we are so impecunious."
"The policeman won't prevent my lending you L200."
"Won't he now? There's no knowing what a policeman can't do in this
country. They are very good-natured, all the same."
Then Lord Castlewell turned to Rachel, and asked her whether her
suspicions would go so far as to interfere between him and her
father. "It is because I am a pretty girl that you are going to do
it," she said, frowning, "or because you pretend to think so." Here
the father broke out into a laugh, and the lord followed him. "You
had better keep your money to yourself, my lord. You never can have
used it with less chance of getting any return." This interview,
however, was ended by the acceptance of a cheque from Lord Castlewell
for L200, payable to the order of Gerald O'Mahony.