"Tony is a very good fellow," said Hester. "He has never done an
ungraceful thing."
"Well," said Nettie, "I expect that is just what is wrong with him. It
seems to me that the men who do what is worth doing can't always be
graceful. The knight in the chancel had his helmet beaten in, while I
fancy his mail was battered and dusty, and if the great glittering angel
waited for the Palliser who was shot in Africa it wasn't because he
carried tea trays prettily."
"And yet Violet, who expects a good deal, is content with him."
"Well," said Nettie gravely, "I'm almost afraid she's giving herself
away. I have seen the man who would have suited her--and he was a ragged
leader of the Sin Verguenza."
"Had that man no taste?" asked Hester with a little laugh.
Nettie glanced down at the white hand she moved a little so that there
was a flash from the ring. "That was there already. It was a man of the
same kind who put it on."
Tony and Violet Wayne came up just then, and when they sat down Hester
turned to the man. "We are getting up a concert in the Darsley assembly
rooms for the sewing guild," she said. "We are, as usual, short of
money. You will bring your banjo, and sing a coon song."
"It's too hot," said Tony. "Besides, folks expect a decorum I haven't
been quite accustomed to from me now, and I'm not going to black my face
for anybody. I would a good deal sooner give you the money."
"That's very like you, Tony, but it's too easy, though we will take the
money too. It's a good cause, or it would not be in difficulties. You
will come and sing."
Tony made a gesture of resignation. "Well," he said "it would take too
much trouble to convince you that you had better get somebody else, and,
anyway, I can have a cold."
Then the conversation turned on other topics until Tony and Violet took
their leave, but when she shook hands with him Hester reminded Tony of
his promise. It was, however, almost a month later when he was called
upon to keep it and finding no excuse available drove into the
neighboring town one evening. He was welcomed somewhat effusively when
he entered an ante-room of the assembly hall, and then taken to a place
that had been kept for him beside Violet and her mother. The concert
very much resembled others of the kind, and neither Tony nor his
companions paid much attention to the music until Mrs. Wayne looked up
from her programme.
"Therese Clavier. Costume dance!" she said. "No doubt they called it
that to pacify the vicar. Well, she is pretty, if somewhat elaborately
got up. Doesn't she remind you of somebody, Violet?"
Tony glanced at the stage, and gasped. A girl with dark hair in
voluminous flimsy draperies came on with a curtsey and a smile, and a
little chill ran through him before he heard Violet's answer.
"Lucy Davidson. But of course it can't be she," she said. "This woman is
older and has darker hair, though that, perhaps, does not count for very
much, while Lucy could never have acquired her confidence."
Tony said nothing. He was staring across the rows of heads and watching
the girl. She appeared older, bolder, and harder than Lucy Davidson had
done, but the likeness was still unpleasantly suggestive. She danced
well, but it was not the graceful posing or the swift folding and
flowing of light draperies that held Tony's attention. His eyes were
fixed upon the smiling face, and he scarcely heard the thunder of
applause or Mrs. Wayne's voice in the silence that followed it.
"Effective, and yet nobody could take exception to it," she said. "But
don't you come on next, Tony?"
Tony, who had not remembered it, stood up suddenly, knocking down the
hat of a man beside him, and trod upon the girl's dress as he passed.
She glanced up at him sharply, for he was seldom awkward in his
movements, but he was looking another way. The audience was also getting
impatient, and there was a clapping of hands and stamping of feet before
he appeared upon the stage. Then he sat down fingering his banjo pegs,
and twice asked the accompanist for a note on the piano.
"Any other man would have done that before," said Mrs. Wayne. "Still, I
suppose Tony cannot help it, and he seems contented now."
There was a tinkle from the banjo followed by a chord on the piano, but
Tony did not face the audience until the introduction had dragged
through. Then Violet noticed that his voice, which was a sweet tenor,
was not so clear as usual, and the silence of the piano emphasized his
feebler touch on the strings. Still, Tony sang such songs as usually go
with the banjo well, for the mingling of faint pathos and mild burlesque
was within his grasp, which was, perhaps, not without its significance,
and nobody appeared to find any fault with the performance. There was,
in fact, enthusiastic applause, though Violet was glad when Tony
persisted in leaving the stage, and her mother glanced at her.
"I have heard Tony put much more spirit into that song," she said.
Tony in the meanwhile was endeavoring to make his way quietly through
the green-room when one of the committee touched his shoulder.
"Can't you spare us a few minutes?" he said. "Miss Clavier seemed to
like your singing, and I think she would be pleased if you noticed her.
When she heard it was a charity she came down for half her usual fee."
Tony was not grateful to the man who had detained him, and could it have
been done without exciting comment would have shaken off his grasp. As
it was, however, there was no avoiding the introduction, and he suffered
himself to be led forward with unpleasant misgivings. Miss Clavier made
him a somewhat dignified bow, but she also made room for him beside her,
while something in her dark eyes warned Tony that it would be wise of
him to accept the unspoken invitation. He sat down, wondering what she
wanted, until she smiled at him.
"There are coffee and ices in the other room, Tony," she said. "Will you
take me there?"
The man realized that this mode of address had its significance, for it
had been Mr. Palliser in the old days; but he rose gravely and held out
his arm, knowing that what he did would not pass without comment. The
feeling was also warranted, for one of the men who watched them pass out
into the corridor smiled as he turned to his companion.
"Tony seems bent on doing rather more than was expected of him," he
said. "No doubt she knows his standing in the neighborhood, and intends
this as a delicate compliment to one or two of our lady amateurs who
were not exactly pleasant to her. It's quite certain she can't be
hungry."
As it happened, there was nobody but the attendant in the buffet when
they reached it, and Lucy Davidson flung herself down with a curious,
lithe gracefulness in a big chair in a corner.
"Bring me some coffee for the look of the thing," she said.
Tony did it, and then stood beside her while she toyed with her cup.
Lucy Davidson was distinctly pretty in spite of her get up, but it was
unpleasantly evident to her companion that she was not the girl he had
flirted with. She seemed to have changed into a capable, determined
woman, and there was something that suggested imperiousness in her dark
eyes when she looked up at him.
"I want to know why you brought me here," he said.
The girl laughed. "That wasn't civil, Tony. You should have let me think
you came because you wanted to."
"I didn't," said Tony doggedly. "Nor can I stay here long. Don't you
know that some of these people might recognize you?"
"I don't see why that should worry me, though I don't think they will.
They are Darsley folk, and I fancy I have changed. You are going to be
married I hear!"
Tony set his lips as he saw the mocking smile in his companion's face.
"Yes," he said. "We may as well talk plainly. You know of no reason why
I shouldn't."
Lucy Davidson made a little reproachful gesture. "Tony," she said, "have
I objected?"
"No. The question is, do you mean to?"
"That depends. I really don't want to cause you trouble. You see, I was
fond of you once, Tony--and would you like me to tell you that I am
still?"
Tony stood rigidly still with the blood in his forehead until the girl
laughed.
"You needn't meet trouble before it comes," she said. "I only wanted to
see you."
Again there was silence, until Tony, who felt he must say something,
broke it.
"Where have you been since you left Northrop?" he asked.
"In London. Music-hall stage. I took there, and was in Melbourne, too.
Just now I'm resting a little, and only came down here out of
curiosity."
"Still," and Tony's voice trembled a little, "you will have heard--"
"Sit down," said the girl almost sharply. "I want to talk to you. Yes, I
heard in Melbourne. I read it all in a Darsley paper, and thought what
fools the folks were to blame Mr. Appleby."
Tony gasped. "It is a painful thing to talk about, and I don't want to
distress you, but--"
Lucy Davidson looked at him steadily. "What I felt about it doesn't
concern anybody but myself. I told you they were fools, Tony. You and I
know who it was that circumstances really pointed to."
Tony's cheeks turned a trifle gray, but this time he met her gaze.
"Listen to me, Lucy. On my word of honor I had no hand in what
happened," he said. "The solemn truth is that your father had an
altercation with Appleby, and afterwards fell over the bridge."
The girl's eyes flashed, and she slowly straightened herself. "It is
fortunate for you that I can take your word, because I had formed my own
conclusions," she said. "Don't suppose I should sit here talking to you
if I had thought you were guilty. This, however, is quite between
ourselves."
There was a significance in the last words which was not lost upon the
man. "Well," he said slowly, "we come back to the point again. What do
you want from me?"
"Just a little kindness. I was, I don't mind telling you again, fond of
you, perhaps because--but we don't always give reasons, Tony. There is
nothing I want to ask you for in the meanwhile."
"I am to be married soon," the man said in desperation.
Lucy Davidson rose with a curious mocking smile. "Well," she said, "I
wish her joy of you. You are, you know, very poor stuff, Tony, and
haven't nerve enough to make either a good man or a rascal. The last, at
least now and then, gets something for his pains. Now, you may take me
back again."