“Hullo, wheer’ye off to, Tommy?”
And Mrs. Long-Adder lay back among her silken cushions and listened,
blinking sleepily through her long black lashes, the while a faint
half-satiric, half-pleased expression came and went on the face which
certain of her admirers called “so _weirdly_ beautifully!” Before the
second verse was ended, she rose up to her full height in a dramatic
attitude of inspired resolution, while the “satin rayonnant” and the
“diamanté lace” fell around her in sweeping, glorious, glittering
folds. She saw her game and was prepared to play it.
“That will do!” she said. “Yes!--it has every chance of a draw. I think
I can manage it!”
She moved to and fro, softly and swishingly.
“Yes! Finish it!” And through the tangles of her hair she smiled a
bewildering smile. “There’s a Bazaar going to be held at the Gilded
Rooms for the benefit of Tommy next week--I’ll offer to recite it
there--dressed in khaki!”
“You will!” cried Mrs. Arteroyd, rapidly considering how that “weird”
lady would look “in khaki,” and as rapidly deciding that she must
have her own way anyhow--“You really will! And do you think that your
friend, the German prince--”
“Dummer-Esel? Of course! He will do anything to please me!” said Mrs.
Long-Adder--“You may be quite sure _he_ will come and hear me. But you
know you must give me a hundred guineas for the job.”
“Must I?” And Mrs. Arteroyd’s face fell a little.
“Why of course you must! You must pay _me_, and I shall give the money
to the Fund. That’s how these things are done.”
“Oh, very well!” said Mrs. Arteroyd hurriedly--“I don’t mind--”
“I should think you didn’t!” And again the temporary favorite of Prince
Dummer-Esel smiled--“It will be a splendid advertisement for you--I
mean for your pretty poem! Now do please go home and finish it as
charmingly as you have begun,--get it type-written and send it to me at
once, with your cheque. I’ll manage all the rest for you! It will be an
immense success--simply immense!”
“Do you really think so?” asked Mrs. Arteroyd eagerly, as she rose to
go.
“I am sure of it! By the way, your husband is at the front, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Jack is somewhere near Ladysmith, I believe.”
“Ah! That makes it all the more interesting! Now _do_ go home and
finish ‘Tommy’s Gal.’ My recitation of it will quite take the colour of
the Marquise Dégagée’s ‘Fancye Faire’!”
“Ah--h--h--h!” and Mrs. Arteroyd drew a sharp breath.
Mrs. Long-Adder’s Chinese eyes glittered--she laughed.
“I hate that Marquise! Don’t you?”
For the moment Mrs. Arteroyd felt that she loved Mrs. Long-Adder. But
she was discreet.
“She is very--er--very--er--well!--pushing!” she said cautiously.
“Pushing! Oh, that’s nothing! I admire push. You _must_ push nowadays
if you want to be anywhere. But she is so--so _vulgar_! So _very_
theatrical in private life! Yes!--your poem is lovely! Good-bye, dear!
What an exquisite cloak!”
Moved by their mutual detestation of the Marquise Dégagée, these dear
women kissed each other again--this time without looking over each
other’s shoulders, and Mrs. Arteroyd departed in high satisfaction,
leaving Mrs. Long-Adder to roll gently and voluptuously on her
sofa-chair and to laugh to herself as she thought of the “effect” she
would make on the mind of Prince Dummer-Esel, when dressed “in khaki”!
In a few days everything was arranged as triumphantly as the most
ambitious advertisement-seeker could desire. Mrs. Arteroyd finished her
“poem” effectively thus:--
“I ain’t much given to blubberin’,
But a somethin’ blinded my eye
When that there gal came to the station
Last night to wish me good-bye!
And now ’ere I am at Southampton,
Under orders from bloomin’ Pall-Mall,
An’ we sails in a hour for Capetown--
So--just look after my gal!