And Peter was right; for, as Mrs. Sibley and Hope neared the theatre,
they saw Dorothea's nodding plumes just disappearing through the wide
open doorway.
"And we're too late," cried Hope,--"too late, after all."
"Too late to try to prevent the girl from going into the theatre,--yes,
and I thought we should be when we started; there had been too much time
lost before you spoke to me. We should have taken the car that preceded
the one that we came in; but I doubt if it would have done any good if
we _had_ been earlier. But I'll tell you what we'll do now. We'll go in
to the matinee ourselves. Miss Marr," smiling down at Hope, "would be
perfectly willing that you should go under my chaperonage."
"Oh, yes, yes, of course."
"You see, in doing this, we may be able to help this foolish girl, after
all, by taking her home under our escort, after the matinee is over. She
will hurry out, naturally, to get home before dark, and I am sure even
such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser for her to go
back to Miss Marr's in our company than with young Armitage."
"Mrs. Sibley, you don't think it is wrong, do you, for us to keep all
this from Miss Marr,--to go on covering everything up from her while we
try to get Dorothea out--out of all these queer ways of hers? It makes
me feel as if--as if there might be something sly and underhand in going
on like this,--something like being disloyal to Miss Marr, and deceiving
her."
"You needn't worry about that, my dear. I know Angelique Marr, and I am
sure it would be a relief to her to have Dorothea helped out of her
queer ways, as you put it, by girls like you and Kate. Miss Marr knows
perfectly well that a _teacher's_ opposition wouldn't influence a girl
like Dorothea favorably,--that it would be more likely to rouse a
counter opposition. It is only girls of her own age who would be likely
to influence her; and so, knowing this, the teacher has to be silent a
good many times when she may suspect things that she would _like_ to
oppose; then, when the flagrant offence is forced upon her, there would
be no alternative but to see that the offender was punished according to
the stated rules of the school government, if the school itself was to
be respected and to maintain its position."
Greatly comforted by these words, Hope followed Mrs. Sibley into the
theatre. There had been no difficulty, even at this late moment, in
obtaining very good back seats,--seats from which one could command an
excellent view of the audience, if not of the stage; and Hope at once
began a careful survey of this audience, her far-seeing young eyes
roving rapidly from section to section in keen investigation. She was
suddenly interrupted in this investigation by a whisper from Mrs.
Sibley.
"Aren't you looking too far down in front? Isn't that the girl?"
"Where?"
"Two rows in front of us, to the right."
Hope looked in the direction indicated; and there, two rows in front, to
the right, sure enough, was Dorothea.
She was laughing and whispering with her companion, evidently in the
gayest spirits; and Hope's heart sank within her at the thought of what
she had undertaken, as she caught sight of her. Why, oh, why, had she
been so rash as to think of interfering with this girl in any way? For,
as she regarded her there, she felt sure that she would look upon their
suggestion of taking her home as an interference, to be resented and
rejected. "Even such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser
for her to go back to Miss Marr in our company than with young
Armitage," Mrs. Sibley had confidently declared. But Mrs. Sibley didn't
know Dorothea, Hope now reflected, as there came crowding up to her, at
the sight of that handsome, arrogant face, all her own bitter knowledge
of her. And with this knowledge, why--why had she been so rash? And to
have brought kind, sweet Mrs. Sibley here to be, perhaps, insulted; for
if Dorothea _did_ resent their suggestion, she wouldn't hesitate to
express herself with her usual freedom. For a moment, overcome by all
these thoughts, poor Hope had a mind to say to Mrs. Sibley: "Our plan
won't be of the slightest use. Dorothea won't accept our offer, and we
might as well give it up." The next moment, ashamed of her cowardice,
she said to herself: "How can I be so mean? It's my duty to go ahead and
try to carry out what I've undertaken. If I fail--if Dorothea does turn
upon me, I must bear it,--that's all."
And with this resolve, she directed her attention to the stage. It was
only when the curtain fell after the first act that she glanced again
towards the pair to the right. She was just in time to see Mr. Raymond
Armitage bowing with effusion to a party of ladies several seats in
front; and then, evidently with a word of explanation and excuse to
Dorothea, he jumped up and went forward to speak to them. The youngest
of the party was a very elegant young woman, whose notice seemed to be
much appreciated by Mr. Raymond Armitage, as he bent before her. The
other ladies, too, were apparently of consequence to him. But when Hope
saw him linger beyond the moment of greeting, her glance wandered back
to Dorothea. What did Dorothea think of being left to herself like this
by her fine escort? There might be the excuse of some message or other,
for his leaving her for a moment, but to linger moment by moment _for
his own pleasure_,--yes, that was it,--how would Miss Dorothea take
this? A sudden turn of her head showed Hope pretty plainly how she took
it, for in place of the gay satisfaction that had made her face radiant,
there was a very unmistakable look of astonishment and mortification.
Mrs. Sibley, who had also been observant of this little by-play, here
whispered to Hope,--
"How rude to leave her like that!"
"And how mortified she is--look!" responded Hope.
Several times after this they saw him make a movement as if to return to
his place, but each time some word addressed to him by one of the ladies
would be enough to detain him. When finally he did return, the orchestra
was playing the last of its selections before the rising of the curtain
again. That he was profuse in his apologies, the two interested
observers could plainly perceive. They could also perceive that Dorothea
was by no means disposed to accept these apologies in a benignant
spirit. At last, however, he seemed to make his peace in a measure, for
a half smile began to hover about Dorothea's lips, and by the time the
curtain had risen again, and the merry little play that was on the
boards was again making everybody laugh, Dorothea was joining in the
laugh as heartily as any one. The play ended in a little whirlwind of
applause. In the midst of this, Mrs. Sibley noticed that young Armitage
was hurrying his companion off in great haste, and whispered to Hope,--
"They are hurrying probably to catch the next car; and if we go put at
once by the right aisle, we shall meet them face to face, and it will be
quite easy for you then to propose to take Dorothea with us. She _must_
see the point,--that it is much better for her to go back to Miss Marr's
in our company, and be glad of the opportunity we offer her."
Hope nodded assent; but her heart quaked, as she followed Mrs. Sibley
through the passages between the seats, and fancied that moment when she
should meet Dorothea face to face and see her stare of astonishment, and
then, oh, then, hear, perhaps, her scornful rejection of the opportunity
offered her! But they were not to meet Dorothea face to face as they
came out on that right aisle. A little delay in pushing through brought
them behind instead of in front of the pair, and--
"No, I thank you, I can find the car by myself!" were the words that
they heard on that instant; and the tone in which these words were
delivered was sharp and angry, not the tone of friendly agreement.
Evidently young Armitage had not waited for his companion to suggest
that she had better return without his escort to Miss Marr's door, and
evidently Dorothea had resented the fact that the suggestion had come
from him.
"But you ought not to be angry with me," they heard him protest. "I
shouldn't think of letting you go alone if it wasn't better for you. The
car is on the line of your street, and you might meet--might meet--one
of your teachers, you know, and that would make trouble for you. It's
just to help you that I--"
"Oh, really, it's a pity you didn't think of this earlier before you
said we would go back by the other line, where we shouldn't run the risk
of meeting the teachers."
"Yes, I know; but as I have come to think it over, I see that the other
cars will keep you out so much longer, I thought you would rather--"
"As you have come to think it over _since you met your friends_, you see
that it will be more convenient for you not to take up the time by going
round by the other line. Perhaps your friends want you to find _their_
car for them. Anyway, whatever engagement you've made with them, don't
keep them waiting for _me_; I can find _my_ car by myself, as I said."
"Miss Dering!" in an expostulating tone, "I haven't made any engagement
to hurry me away; I'm only going to dine at the Waldorf by and by with
these friends,--they're Washington friends of my mother and Bessie,--but
I needn't hurry, not the least, and of course I shall take you home by
the other line if you like that best."
"But I don't like it best--_now_. I--I--"
Hope here caught sight of Dorothea's face,--the quivering lips, the eyes
that were striving against tears,--and obeying a swift, warm impulse of
pity and sympathy, forgot her fears in it, and called out softly,--
"Dorothea! Dorothea!"
Dorothea turned a startled glance behind her at this call. Then, "What!
_you_ here, Hope?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley."
"Oh, and you're going straight home--to Miss Marr's? Mrs. Sibley is to
take you?" stepping back to Hope's side.
"Yes."
"And may I--will you let me come with you?" in a whisper, and clutching
Hope's wrist nervously.
"Yes, oh, yes; I was going to ask you if you wouldn't like to come with
us."
"Were you?" A quick glance at Hope from the black eyes still struggling
against tears, a closer clutch upon Hope's wrist, then a sudden
conquering of the quivering lips, and, "I needn't keep you waiting any
longer, I have found friends who will take me home," Mr. Raymond
Armitage was told with a dignity that surprised and rather abashed him.
Hope, too, was surprised at the real dignity displayed, and slid her
hand into the hand that was clutching her wrist, with a sudden movement
of approbation and sympathy. Dorothea gave a quick start, and turned an
inquiring look upon Hope's face at this movement,--a look that seemed to
ask, "Do you really feel like this toward me?"
With wise forethought, Mrs. Sibley, on leaving the Park, had directed
her coachman, who was awaiting her with the carriage at that point to
drive round to the theatre and await her there. If he did not find her
ready for him at once, he was to return at four o'clock. She had thus
provided for either result of her expedition. If the elevated, swift
though it was, did not enable them to reach the theatre in time to
interview Dorothea as she arrived, the carriage would be on hand at four
to take her back with them after the play, for Mrs. Sibley had no manner
of doubt from the first that the girl would go with them, though she
little thought it would be under the present conditions.
Indeed, she had looked forward to a very different state of things; and
sure though she felt of ultimate success, she fully expected to bring it
about by adroit management. Instead of this, however, here was this
difficult-to-be-dealt-with Dorothea not only willing, but gratefully
glad, to avail herself of the opportunity offered her.