THE FIRST MARRIAGE.
Mrs. Pelham Odin might well exclaim. Gerald and Tod were silent from
sheer amazement, even though the first might have expected to see one
girl the double of the other. In that box of an office, and in the
somewhat dim light that filtered through the dingy window, Mavis and
Charity appeared to be exactly alike. Miss Bird was also plainly
dressed in a dark frock, so as not to attract attention from Tod's
clerks, and this, along with the thrown-back veils, completed the
resemblance. The two girls had similar eyes and hair, and complexion
and cast of face, and even Mrs. Pelham Odin found it difficult to
distinguish one from the other, long as she had known her adopted
daughter.
"It is like a dream," she declared--"Girofla-Girofle in real life. Oh,
that I were in management again: what a chance for a play, a serious
play, which has to do with twins."
"What we are engaged in is serious enough," said Gerald, sitting down.
"My dear Mavis, this is Mrs. Pelham Odin, who is going to take charge
of you until we can prove your innocence."
Mavis shook hands with the old actress. "And you don't believe that I
am guilty?" she asked, in a whisper.
For answer Mrs. Pelham Odin embraced and kissed her. "My dear," she
said amiably, "truth looks out of your eyes."
"Out of _my_ eyes, I think," said Charity. "Mr. Haskins, this is
really amazing. I never thought to find my double. It seems uncanny.
Tod, you will be marrying Mavis instead of me."
"No," said Tod slowly, and looking from one girl to the other, "there
is a difference."
"Meaning that Mavis is more charming than I am. Thank you."
"Oh no," broke in Miss Durham, "I am only an ignorant country girl,
but you are clever and polished and----"
"And quite perfect," ended Charity, kissing Mavis as Mrs. Pelham Odin
had done, and with the same kindness, "let us hope that I am, in Tod's
eyes. This is Tod, Mavis; he is to be my husband."
"At last," gasped Macandrew sentimentally.
Gerald displayed impatience. "Had we not better get to business?" he
observed. "These girls are so alike that I don't want them to be seen
together, lest trouble comes of it."
"And trouble will come," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, who had not yet got
over her amazement. "As Charity says, this line-for-line resemblance
is uncanny. I hope your veils are thick enough, my dears. If anyone
saw you two together, the wonderful resemblance would certainly be
commented upon, and might get to Major Rebb's ears."
Charity looked long and earnestly at Mavis. "We _must_ be sisters. Can
you remember ever having a sister, Mavis?"
"No. Nor did Major Rebb ever say that I had one. He brought me, as he
said, from Bombay, some time after my mother died, and ever since I
have been shut up in the Pixy's House."
"I was born at Simla," said Charity thoughtfully, "at least the ayah
who sold me to the juggler's wife declared that I was. I don't
remember anything about it, of course. Mother----"
"Oh, don't ask me, my dear. I can explain nothing. You know what I
know, and it is strange that both you and Mavis should have been born
in India. That fact, and the resemblance, certainly points to some
relationship between you."
"They are sisters," declared Haskins firmly, "in no other way can the
likeness be accounted for."
"And yet there is a difference," said Tod, for the second time. "It is
in the tone of the voice, and in the look of the eyes."
"Quite so," said Charity swiftly. "My voice has been trained for the
stage and Mavis' has not. I have been brought up in the world and
Mavis out of it, which fully accounts for the innocence looking out
from her eyes and the worldly wickedness in mine."
"My dear," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, displeased, "how you rattle on. But
I rather agree with you, I must say. If Mavis had been brought up as
you, and you as Mavis, you would simply have changed places. I hope
that I make myself clear."
"As clear as the murky darkness of this twin mystery can be made clear
until Major Rebb confesses. Meanwhile, and until we can force that
man's hand, we had better arrange what has to be done." It was Gerald
who spoke.
Mrs. Pelham Odin patted Mavis' hand, which she was holding in her own
very fondly. "I lose one daughter to find another," she said cheerily.
"Mavis can come back with me to my flat, and can wear some dresses
which Charity has left behind. Then I'll teach her to dance, and in a
couple of days she will be able to replace Charity at the Belver."
"You are quite willing?" Gerald asked Miss Bird anxiously.
"Of course I am," she answered quickly. "I am quite on your side."
"Remember that Mavis is accused of being a lunatic and a murderess."
"I know. My mother told me. But I don't believe it for one moment. I
would as soon think myself capable of committing a crime."
"I say the same," said Mrs. Pelham Odin. "I told you, Mr. Haskins,
that I would wait until I saw Mavis before deciding. Now that I have
seen her, I disbelieve all that Major Rebb says. And moreover, since
the likeness is even stronger than you said between these two girls, I
can promise you that the plot will be carried out safely."
Gerald hesitated. "Will Mavis dare to face the footlights?"
Mavis herself replied, and the brave blood of her soldier father
flamed in her cheeks as his courage shone in her eyes. "I shall dare
anything for your sake, Gerald," she declared, without faltering. "And
Bellaria has taught me to dance--poor Bellaria!" she ended sadly.
"It will be all right," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, who had been watching
the girl critically. "It is a risk, of course, but as there is only
one dance, and the child has courage, I do not think she will
experience stage fright. I can teach her the dance."
"No," interposed Charity quickly. "Let me do that. Mavis can come
veiled to my lodgings, which are now at Kensington, and I can show her
all the steps and tricks and manner necessary. I swear that when she
is dressed as I was in _The Moon-Fay_, and dances as I shall teach
her, no one will be a bit the wiser. And my engagement ends in a week
or so; and it will not be necessary for her to continue to appear."
Mrs. Pelham Odin nodded. "You must keep yourself quiet, Charity. No
one must see you at Kensington. I can trust my old dresser, with whom
I placed you there. To-night and to-morrow night you can go to the
theatre, as usual. On the third night Mavis can appear."
"And I shall see after Charity meanwhile," said Tod eagerly; "in five
days we can get married, and I have bought a special license, so that
no banns need be put up. Then we can go abroad."
"But, Tod," said Gerald, somewhat dismayed, although he might have
expected this course of conduct, "I want you to help me."
"I shall do so when I return, in a month," said Tod quickly. "It is as
well, since Mavis is to play the part of Charity, that my wife should
be out of the kingdom. I shall leave her abroad when I return, and
then we can try and put things straight. They are crooked enough now."
"Do you agree to this?" Gerald asked Charity once more.
"Of course," she answered promptly, "and I shall send Tod back from
Switzerland before the end of our honeymoon. The sooner these affairs
are settled the better. I wish you and Mavis to be happy, and also I
want to know about my parentage. I am tired of being Charity Bird."
"You will soon be Charity Macandrew," whispered Tod tenderly.
"Oh yes--but I wish to know if I am Charity Durham."
"I am sure you are, and my sister," said Mavis, taking the other
girl's hand, "and Gerald and I have been talking. If I get this six
thousand a year, you shall have half."
"Oh no," cried Charity, half delighted and half doubtful.
"Oh yes--even though you may not prove to be my sister."
Gerald shrugged his shoulders. "There's no more to be said," he
remarked, "save that I am certain my surmise is correct. Well, Mrs.
Pelham Odin, will you take Mavis to your flat?"
"Yes." The old lady rose, and with her own hands drew down Mavis'
veil. "We had better go at once, seeing that we all now understand
what is to be done. Charity?"
That young lady had already arranged her veil. "Tod is taking me back
to Kensington," she said, "and will call for me to-night at the
theatre. I shall say that you are indisposed, mother."
"Quite so," rejoined the actress, "but pray tell as few lies as
possible, and _do_ behave yourself with Mr. Macandrew."
"We'll be as good as gold," said Tod piously. "By the way, Gerald, one
moment. My clerk went to watch Mrs. Crosbie and her mother at Bognor."
"Well, and what happened?"
"Neither Mrs. Berch nor Mrs. Crosbie are there. They have not been
near the place."
"Now, what does that mean. She certainly said that she was going."
"I suppose she changed her mind in a feminine way," rejoined Tod, and
the symposium broke up, having arranged all necessary plans for the
immediate future.
For the next day or two Gerald was extremely anxious, as may be
guessed. The daily papers were filled with accounts of the Leegarth
murder, and with details respecting the search which was being made
for Mavis Durham. The inquest had taken place, and the jury--as was
natural, considering what Major Rebb declared--brought in a verdict of
wilful murder against the girl. No one entertained a shadow of doubt
as regarded her guilt, and Haskins was glad, for once, that Mavis had
not been taught to read, since she could not worry herself over what
the newspapers said. Rebb, at the inquest, had been severely
reprehended for not having shut up his ward in a public asylum: but
nothing came out about the income belonging to her which he enjoyed.
It was the prevailing impression that Rebb had taken charge of his
brother officer's little girl out of sheer kindness of heart, and many
of the journals praised his philanthropy. Gerald could imagine Rebb's
grim smile on reading about the undeserved honors thrust upon him.
And the young man was also anxious about Mavis' appearance at the
Belver Theatre, since she had been shut up all her life, and might be
terrified out of her wits when facing an audience. If she did fail,
Mrs. Pelham Odin intended to announce that her daughter was ill, and
so gloss the matter over. But neither the actress or the lover need
have been afraid. Mavis knew what was expected of her: knew what was
at stake, and heartened by her love for Gerald, as well as by her
desire for safety, she behaved like a heroine. In a wonderfully short
space of time she picked up the dance, having been already taught how
to use her hands and feet by the unfortunate Bellaria. Moreover the
girl was a born dancer, and likewise suggested improvements which
delighted both Charity and her adopted mother. Indeed the latter
lamented loudly that Mavis was to marry Gerald, instead of appearing
on the stage, as out of such promising material she said that a
wonderful actress could be made. Dancing was only one way in which
Mavis could express herself: but with instruction and experience--as
Mrs. Pelham Odin averred--she could attain to a high position on the
English stage. "And we need new talent," wailed Mrs. Pelham Odin,
"half the actresses who are on the boards should be off them."
One result of Mavis' improvements in the Moon-Fay dance was that Mrs.
Pelham Odin, being an old friend of the Belver manager, induced him to
give Mavis a rehearsal. Of course he thought that the demure young
lady who appeared was the Charity Bird he knew, and that she merely
wanted to alter the dance a trifle. As the ballet was nearly at an end
he scarcely deemed it necessary to grant Mrs. Pelham Odin's request,
but in the end she got her own way, and Mavis was fortunate enough to
have a trial trip. This assisted her greatly, as it enabled her to
face a small audience before beholding the greater one. The manager
was delighted with the improvements, and hinted to Mrs. Pelham Odin,
as he had hinted before, that he was anxious to re-engage Miss Charity
Bird for the new ballet.
"No," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, privately lamenting the necessity of
declining exceptionally good terms, "in a couple of weeks or so, when
the run of _The Moon-Fay_ is over, my daughter and myself are going to
Southend for a rest."
"Miss Bird is not going to marry that Macandrew fellow, I hope?"
remarked the manager, who had heard rumors. "She will be a loss to the
stage."
"Nothing has been arranged as yet," replied the actress evasively, and
the matter dropped.
When the night came for Mavis' appearance, Charity did a rash thing,
in which she induced Tod to support her, although both Mrs. Pelham
Odin and Gerald would have been seriously annoyed had they known. This
was nothing less than to make Tod take her--closely veiled--to the
gallery of the Belver Theatre to see her double, dance. Tod
remonstrated, but, being very much in love, yielded in the long run,
and, just before the curtain rose on _The Moon-Fay_, Charity and the
lawyer found themselves very comfortably seated among the gods. The
theatre was crowded as usual, as the ballet was a successful one, and
Charity pointed out Gerald and Mrs. Pelham Odin in a small box near
the stage.
"I do hope Mavis is not afraid," whispered Charity, who was a trifle
nervous herself.
"No," answered Tod, in the same low tones. "I am quite certain that
she will pull through all right. That girl has the heart of a lion."
And indeed Macandrew's prophecy proved to be a correct one. When the
curtain drew up on the forest scene, in which Charity had figured for
so many nights as a Moon-Fay, everything went excellently. The
wandering lover, who was searching for his peasant love, chased the
moonbeams as usual--these were electric lights--and when they gathered
into one radiance of white, and he fell on his knees, invoking the
Fairy of the Moon to assist him in his search, Mavis, arrayed in
filmy, vaporous robes of snow, stepped calmly on to the stage. She had
altered the dress a little as she thought Charity's robes were a
trifle scanty. The wardrobe mistress and the manager had remonstrated
on the change, and could not understand why Miss Charity Bird had
altered her mind about the dress when the ballet was nearing its end.
But they never suspected the truth, as Mavis, a born actress, had
mimicked Charity's speech and gesture in private life. So she appeared
in a kind of Greek dress worn long, and sparkling with silver. Her
hair was crowned with a diadem of crystals, and with her pure face
uplifted in the glory of the light she looked indeed like a spirit.
The audience, as did the stage hands and the manager, thought still
that they saw Charity Bird; but all the same they felt, in a puzzled
way, that there was something different in the girl. What would they
have said had they known that the Moon-Fay was being sought for far
and wide, as a lunatic and a murderess. But no one dreamed of such a
thing, and Gerald would not have winced even had Rebb himself been
present. But the Major was not there, as he had more important matters
to attend to; and moreover there was no need that he should come,
seeing that he was ignorant of the dancer's identity.
In the dark scenic forest, and amidst the soft radiance of the
electric lights, Mavis danced as she had been instructed by Charity,
so as to swing in time to the music, but also she introduced something
of the mystic element she had displayed when Gerald had beheld her
swaying in the grounds of the Pixy's House. She floated across the
wide stage like a veritable moonbeam, beckoned to the lover, bent over
him like a fair white angel, and finally melted into a mist. This was
contrived by gauze screens, a clever device, which had been much
commented upon by the Press. When the Moon-Fay vanished there was a
burst of applause. Charity always had been applauded for her dance,
but never had the audience been so hearty in showing their
appreciation as on this night. But Charity was not at all jealous for
the attention bestowed upon her double.
"I must have looked splendid, if I was like that," she whispered to
Tod.
"Of course you were like that," replied Macandrew, "isn't she your
double, dear. Only," he added loyally, and what is more, he really
believed what he said, "you were ever so much better."
Mrs. Pelham Odin hurried behind the scenes as soon as Mavis' dance was
at an end, and hurried the girl away the moment she completed her
change of dress. As this was the old actress' usual way of behaving
with Charity her action caused no comment. Beyond the fact that
several people behind the scenes remarked that Miss Bird had been in
unusually good form on this particular night no one troubled about the
matter. And indeed why should they, seeing how they had beheld the
ballet for more than a hundred nights, and also the dance of Charity
Bird?
Gerald was delighted, and there was a very merry little supper at Mrs.
Pelham Odin's flat that night. Mavis again and again asked her lover
if she had done well, and if he was pleased with her. Gerald could
only reply with kisses, until Mrs. Pelham Odin merrily declared that
she could not remain in the room if they were so affectionate. "And
then, child," she added, "we must turn this young man out, for
to-morrow I have to be at Mr. Macandrew's wedding."
"Cannot I come?" asked Mavis eagerly.
"Bless me, child, no! Your presence would bring about the very
complication we are desirous of avoiding. Things are going right so
far, so do not put them wrong."
So the next day Mavis remained in the flat, quite accepted by the
servants of the house as Miss Charity Bird, while the real lady who
bore that name went with Macandrew and Gerald and Mrs. Pelham Odin to
a quiet country church in Essex, where Tod had elected to get married.
Gerald was the best man, and Mrs. Pelham Odin gave the bride away in
her best theatrical style. None of Tod's relatives were present, for
obvious reasons, but as he led his bride down the aisle after the
ceremony he grinned to think of Lady Euphemia's wrath did she know
what had taken place.
"I hope that I have done right," sighed Mrs. Pelham Odin, when looking
after the train that bore Tod and his bride away. "I think I have."