The Ingratitude of Mitchell
Since Bruce had had the amateur-theatrical trouble, he had forgotten to
have any other illness. But he spent many, many half-hours walking up
and down in front of the glass rehearsing his part--which consisted of
the words, _'Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
Night! May a humble mandarin petition for a dance?'_ He tried this in
many different tones; sometimes serious and romantic, sometimes
humorous, but in every case he was much pleased with his reading of the
part and counted on a brilliant success.
One evening he had come home looking perturbed, and said he thought he
had caught a chill. Eucalyptus, quinine, sal-volatile, and clinical
thermometers were lavishly applied, and after dinner he said he was
better, but did not feel sufficiently up to the mark to go through his
part with Edith as usual, and was rather silent during the rest of
the evening.
When he came down to breakfast the next morning, Edith said--
'Do you know Anne's come back?'
'Who's Anne?'
'Anne. Hyacinth's companion. Miss Yeo, I mean.'
'Come back from where?'
'Don't you remember about her going away--about her mysterious
disappearance?'
'I seem to remember now. I suppose I had more important things to think
about.'
'Well, at any rate, she _has_ come back--I've just had a
letter--Hyacinth wants me to go out with her this afternoon and hear all
about it. At four. I can, of course; it's the day you rehearse,
isn't it?'
Bruce waited a minute, then said--
'Curious thing, you _can't_ get our cook to make a hot omelette! And
we've tried her again and again.'
'It _was_ a hot omelette, Bruce--very hot--about three-quarters of an
hour ago. Shall I order another?'
'No--oh, no--pray don't--not for me. I haven't the time. I've got to
work. You have rather a way, Edith, of keeping me talking. You seem to
think I've nothing else to do, and it's serious that I should be
punctual at the office. By the way--I shouldn't go out with Hyacinth
today, if I were you--I'd rather you didn't.'
'Why not, Bruce?'
'Well, I may want you.'
'Then aren't you going to the Mitchells'?'
'The Mitchells'? No--I am certainly _not_ going to the Mitchells'--under
the present circumstances.'
He threw down a piece of toast, got up, and stood with his back to the
fire.
'How you can expect me to go to the Mitchells' again after their conduct
is more than I can understand! Have you no pride, Edith?'
Edith looked bewildered.
'Has anything happened? What have the Mitchells done?' she asked.
'What have they done!' Bruce almost shouted. He then went and shut the
door carefully and came back.
'Done! How do you think I've been treated by these Mitchells--by my
friend Mitchell--after slaving night and day at their infernal
theatricals? I _have_ slaved, haven't I, Edith? Worked hard at my part?'
'Indeed you have, dear.'
'Well, you know the last rehearsal? I had got on particularly well. I
told you so, didn't I? I played the little part with a certain amount of
spirit, I think. I certainly threw a good deal of feeling and suppressed
emotion, and also a tinge of humorous irony into my speech to Miss
Vavasour. Of course, I know quite well it doesn't seem of any very great
importance, but a lot hinges on that speech, and it isn't everyone who
could make the very most of it, as I really believe I did. Well, I
happened to be pointing out to Mitchell, yesterday at the office, how
much I had done for his play, and how much time and so forth I'd given
up towards making the thing a success, then, what do you think he turned
round and said? Oh, he is a brute!'
'I can't think!'
'He said, "Oh, by the way, Ottley, old chap, I was going to tell you
there's been a change in the scheme. We've altered our plans a little,
and I really don't think we shall need to trouble you after all. The
fact is, I've decided to cut out the fancy ball altogether." And then
people talk of gratitude!'
'Oh, dear, Bruce, that does seem a pity!'
'Seems a pity? Is that all you've got to say! It's an outrage--a slight
on _me_. It isn't treating me with proper deference. But it isn't that I
care personally, except for the principle of the thing. For my own sake
I'm only too pleased--delighted, relieved. It's for _their_ sake I'm so
sorry. The whole thing is bound to be a failure now--not a chance of
anything else. The fancy ball in the second act and my little scene with
Miss Vavasour, especially, was the point of the play. As Mitchell said
at first, when he was asking me to play the part, it would have been
_the_ attraction.'
'But why is he taking out the fancy ball?'
'He says they can't get enough people. Says they won't make fools of
themselves and buy fancy dresses just to make one in a crowd and not be
noticed--not even recognised. Says the large fancy ball for the coming
of age of the hero in his ancestral halls would have consisted of one
mandarin, one Queen of the Night, and a chap in a powdered wig. He
thinks it wouldn't have been worth it.'
'Well, I am sorry! Still, couldn't you say your part just the same in an
ordinary dress?'
'What! _"Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
Night!"_ Why, do you remember the lines, Edith? Don't you recollect how
they refer to our costumes? How could I say them if we weren't in
fancy dress?'
'Still, if the whole plot hinges on your scene--'
'Well! all I know is, out it goes--and out I go. The second act will be
an utter frost now. They're making a terrible mistake, mind you. But
that's Mitchell's business, not mine. It's no kind of deprivation to
_me_--you know that. What possible gratification can it be for a man
like me--a man of the world--to paint my face and put on a ridiculous
dress and make a general ass of myself, just to help Mitchell's rotten
performance to go off all right!'
'I don't know. I daresay it would have amused you. I'm sorry, anyhow.'
'I'm sorry enough, too--sorry for them. But if you really want to know
the root of the matter, I shrewdly suspect it's really jealousy! Yes,
jealousy! It's very odd, when people get keen on this sort of thing, how
vain they begin to get! Perfectly childish! Yes, he didn't want me to
make a hit. Old Mitchell didn't want to be cut out! Natural enough, in a
way, when one comes to think it over; but a bit thick when one remembers
the hours I've worked for that man--isn't it?'
'What did you say to him, Bruce, when he first told you?'
'Say? Oh, nothing. I took it very coolly--as a man of the world. I
merely said, "Well, upon my word, Mitchell, this is pretty rough," or
something of that sort. I didn't show I was hurt or offended in any way.
I said, of course, it was like his beastly ingratitude--or words to
that effect.'
'Oh! Was he angry?'
'Yes. He was very angry--furious.'
'Then you've had a quarrel with Mitchell?'
'Not a quarrel, Edith, because I wouldn't quarrel. I merely rubbed in
his ingratitude, and he didn't like it. He said, "Well, let's hope if
you're no longer wasting your valuable life on my theatricals you'll now
be able to arrive at the office in fairly decent time," or something
nasty like that. Disgusting--wasn't it?'
Edith looked at the clock.
'Too bad,' she said. 'Well, you must tell me all about it--a long
account of the whole thing--this afternoon. I won't go out. I'll be at
home when you come--to hear all about it. And now--'
'But that wasn't nearly all,' continued Bruce, without moving; 'you'd
hardly believe it, but Mitchell actually said that he didn't think I had
the smallest talent for the stage! He said I made much too much of my
part--over-acted--exaggerated! When I made a point of keeping my
rendering of the little scene _particularly_ restrained! The fact is,
Mitchell's a conceited ass. He knows no more of acting than that chair,
and he thinks he knows everything.'
'It's fortunate you hadn't ordered your costume.'
'Yes, indeed. As I told him, the whole thing might have cost me a
tremendous lot--far more than I could afford--put me to tremendous
expense; and all for nothing! But he said no doubt the costumier would
take it back. Take it back, indeed! And that if he wouldn't I could send
the costume to him--Mitchell--_and_ the bill--it would be sure to come
in useful some time or other--the costume, I mean. As though I'd dream
of letting him pay for it! I told him at once there could be no question
of such a thing.'
'Well, there won't, as you haven't ordered it.'
'Now, Edith, let me beg you not to argue. Isn't it bad enough that I'm
slighted by my so-called friends, and treated with the basest
ingratitude, without being argued with and nagged at in my own home?'
'I didn't know I was arguing. I beg your pardon. You mustn't worry about
this, dear. After all, I suppose if they found at the rehearsals that
they didn't really _need_ a mandarin--I mean, that the fancy-ball scene
wasn't necessary--perhaps from their point of view they were right to
cut it out. Don't have a lasting feud with Mitchell--isn't he rather an
important friend for you--at the office?'
'Edith, Mitchell shall never set foot under my roof--never darken these
doors again!'
'I wonder why, when people are angry, they talk about their roofs and
doors? If you were pleased with Mitchell again, you wouldn't _ask_ him
to set foot under your roof--nor to darken the door. You'd ask him to
come and see us. Anyhow, he won't feel it so very much--because he'll
not notice it. He's never been here yet.'
'I know; but Mrs Mitchell was going to call. You will be out to her now,
remember.'
'I can safely promise, I think, never to receive her, Bruce.'
'Good heavens!' cried Bruce, looking at the clock. 'Do you know what the
time is? I told you so! I knew it! You've made me late at the office!'