RUSSIAN BALLET
Arrangements had been made that Mrs. Nigel Hillier was to have a little
dinner at home for her mother (with whom Nigel was not supposed to be on
terms); and she and her parent were to go to the St. James's Theatre,
for which two stalls had been purchased. Nigel pretended he was dining
with an old friend at the club.
Coming in brightly, but, as usual, losing half his personality in the
hall, he found Mary at seven o'clock sitting in the little boudoir, in
the usual arm-chair, looking our for him, not, apparently, thinking of
dressing for dinner.
"Hallo, Mary!" he said. "Hadn't you better get ready for your mother?"
"No," she responded rather coldly and bitingly, "I've put mother off."
He glanced at her with self-control. She looked, he thought, far more
bitter than usual.
"That's a pity, because you will be alone--dear. Besides, the stalls
will be wasted."
"No, they won't," she said. "You'll stay at home with me, and take me to
the St. James's. You can easily put off your man at the club." She
looked him full in the eyes.
Colour rose to his face and then faded away.
"I'm sorry, my dear, but that's impossible."
"It isn't impossible--you mean you don't want to do it. ... Oh, do
please--please, Nigel!" She came towards him and played with his
tie--the trick of hers that he hated most.
She mistook his silence, which was hesitation as to what plan to adopt,
for vacillation, and thought she was going to win. ...
"Oh, 'oo will, 'oo will!" she exclaimed, with a rather sickly imitation
of a spoilt child, with her head on one side. It was a pose that did not
suit her in any way.
He drew back; the shiny red hair gave him a feeling of positive nausea.
She was attempting to defeat him--she was trying to be coquettish--poor
thing! ... She suspected something; she hadn't put off her mother for
nothing. ... He was going to the Russian Ballet with Bertha--how could
he leave Bertha in the lurch? With Madeline and Rupert, too--what harm
was there in it? (The fact that he heartily wished there _was_ had
really nothing to do with the point.)
Husbands and wives usually know when opposition is useless. Mary
privately gave it up when she heard Nigel speak firmly and quickly--not
angrily.
"I've made the arrangement now, and I can't back out."
"And what about me?" she said, in a shrill voice.
He went out of the room hastily, saying:
"I can't help it now; if you alter your arrangements at the last
minute--stop at home and read a book, or take some friend to the St.
James's."
He ran upstairs like a hunted hare; he was afraid of being late. He had
got his table at the Carlton.
Left alone in the boudoir, a terrible expression came over Mary's face.
She said to herself quite loudly:
"He is not going to the club; he'd give it up if he were. It's something
about that woman. ..."
A wave of hysteria came over her, also a half-hearted hope of succeeding
still by a new kind of scene. ...
There were two large china pots on the mantelpiece; she threw them,
first one, then the other, at the half-open door, smashing them to
atoms. Excited at her own violence, she ran upstairs screaming,
regardless of appearance:
"You sha'n't go! You sha'n't go! I hate you. I'll kill myself.
Oh--oh--oh! Nigel! Nigel!"
* * * * *
At eight to the minute Nigel in the Palm Court received Bertha Kellynch
dressed in black, Madeline in white, and Rupert Denison with a little
mauve orchid in his buttonhole.
The dinner, subtly ordered, was a complete success, and Madeline Irwin
was in a dream of happiness, but Bertha was sorry to see that Nigel, who
was usually remarkably moderate in the matter of champagne, and to-night
drank even less than usual, had the whole evening a trembling hand. Even
at the ballet, where he was more than usually ready to enjoy every shade
of the enjoyable, he was not quite free from nervous agitation. He did
not drive Rupert home, but let Rupert drop him in Grosvenor Street at
twelve-thirty--for a slight supper was inevitable and Rupert had taken
them to the Savoy.
* * * * *
Mrs. Hillier was in bed and asleep. The maid said she had been ill and
excited. The maid, frightened, had sent for the doctor. His remedy had
succeeded in calming her.
The next day Mary seemed subdued, and was amiable. Both ignored the
quarrel. Nigel believed it would not occur again. He thought his
firmness had won and that she was defeated. He did not understand her.