(_A Story in Scenes._)
SCENE XII.--_Another box at the Eldorado._ TIME--_About_ 9.30 P.M.
_Enter_ Mrs. MERRIDEW _and_ ALTHEA, _followed by_ Colonel MERRIDEW and
Captain ALCHIN.
_Mrs. Merridew._ FRANK, the man _did_ say WALTER WILDFIRE hasn't sung
yet, didn't he? Yes? then _that_'s all right! Oughtn't you and I to
sit at the back, THEA? Well, you shall have this corner at any rate,
and then the curtain will hide you. Captain ALCHIN, will you come
between us, please, and then you can explain any of the jokes we don't
understand.
[_They settle down._
_Captain Alchin._ Pleasure! (_To himself._) Think I see myself
explainin' the jokes and that! (_Aloud._) Afraid I shan't be of much
use, really. Rather out of my line this sort of thing, you know!
_Mrs. M._ I'm sure you must know more about it than Miss TOOVEY and I
do. Tell me who is this rather good-looking girl in kneebreeches with
the horrid voice and the blue eyelids, and why does she walk like
that?
_Capt. Alch._ (_off his guard_). Oh, that's Miss LARDIE LUSHBOY; it's
her usual business--drinkin' song, young man about town, and all that.
_Mrs. M._ There, you see, you know all about _her_!
[Capt. A. _hastens to explain that her name is on the
programme_.
_Miss Lardie_ (_sings_)--
See us lurch along in line, with a straggle serpentine,
[_She suits the action to the word._
For we've done a heavy fuddle, and we never pass a "pub"!
And if you want a proof how we chuck about our "oof"--
Why, come along and have a drink with the Rowdy Razzle Club!
_Mrs. M._ I suppose that's intended as a satire on noisy young men,
isn't it, Captain ALCHIN?
_Captain Alch._ (_who hadn't thought of it in that light_).
Well--ha--that depends on how you _take_ it, don't you know.
_Mrs. M._ That's the way _I_ shall take it, and then it's quite moral.
(_A Low Comedian, in a broad-brimmed hat and a rough black wig, makes
his appearance_.) This must be WALTER WILDFIRE, I suppose. THEA, do
you see? he looks _quite_ nice, and not really vulgar. Now he's going
to sing. Isn't he too delightfully funny! What, FRANK? Not WILDFIRE?
Mr. ALF REDBEAK. Are you _sure_? I was wondering what there could
possibly be in such a common little man as that to make such a fuss
about. And _what_ language? Captain ALCHIN, what _does_ he mean by
saying that he was "dotted on the crust by a copper," and "went off
his onion"?
_Capt. Alch._ (_who foresees rocks ahead if he once undertakes to
interpret_). Oh, well, they're always inventin' some new slang, you
know, Mrs. MERRIDEW; no use tryin' to keep up with it.
[Miss CISSIE CINDERS _appears as a bedraggled maid of all
work, and sings a doleful ditty to the effect that_--"Her
missis will not let her wear no feathers in her 'at, so her
sojer's gone and given 'er the chuck."
_Mrs. M._ (_delighted_). Isn't she refreshing--so _deliciously_
vulgar! I do hope she hasn't finished. THEA, you're sitting as quiet
as a little mouse in that corner. I hope you're not too dreadfully
shocked? _I'm_ not--at least of course I am, really; but it's not
nearly so bad as I expected.
[Illustration: "See us lurch along in line, with a straggle
serpentine."]
_Althea._ Oh, I'm not in the least shocked, CISSIE, thanks; only I
don't quite understand it all.
_Mrs. M._ My dear, no more do I. I don't understand _any_ of it--but
that makes no difference!
_Alth._ (_To herself_). I don't like to say so, but I _am_
disappointed. Mr. CURPHEW said it would be like a Penny Reading; but
it's not a bit, it's ever so much stupider. But he never goes himself,
so of course----
_Mrs. M._ It's quite a respectable audience; I thought we should
be the only people in evening dress, but we're not. I do wish they
wouldn't allow quite so much smoking, though; the atmosphere's getting
something too awful. Oh, THEA, do look in that box just opposite. Can
you see through that lace curtain? Ah, you can't see now!
_Alth._ (_looking round the edge of the curtain_). Where, CISSIE, who
is it?
_Mrs. M._ Why, quite the typical British Matron--_the_ most
tremendously proper-looking person; so if _she_ doesn't see any harm
in being here, I'm sure we needn't. I'll tell you when she pops her
her head out again. There, quick! THEA, quick! Did you see her that
time?
_Alth._ (_faintly_). Y--yes. I--I saw her _that_ time. (_To herself._)
Is this a wicked conscience--or what? It was _so_ like Mamma! But how
could it be?
_Mrs. M._ Did you _ever_ see such a grim old frump, THEA? I wonder
what possessed her to come to a place like this? She doesn't look as
if it was amusing her much.
_Alth._ (_distractedly_). Doesn't she? (_To herself._) If it _should_
be Mamma! If she has found out in some way that we were to be here
to-night and followed us! But how _could_ she know? Suppose she were
to see me, and--and come round and fetch me away; how awful it would
be! But she can't see me through these curtains. I don't believe it
_is_ Mamma. I--I wish I dared look again. Oh, why did I get CISSIE to
bring me here?
_Capt. Alch._ May I borrow your opera glass for a moment, Mrs.
MERRIDEW? Thanks, awf'ly. (_As he looks through it._) There's goin'
to be a row in that opposite box. Your British Matron's gettin' her
quills up--give you my word she is.
_Mrs. M._ Oh, do let me see! (_She holds out her hand for the glass,
which_ Capt. A. _surrenders_.) Yes, I do believe you're right.
Somebody's just come in and----Now there's another, a young man,
and--oh, THEA!
_Alth._ (_in an agony_). What is it, CISSIE? _do_ tell me! (_To
herself._) It must be CHARLES--I'm sure it's CHARLES. Then _that_'s
why--and it _is_ Mamma! (_Aloud._) Mayn't I have the glass?
_Mrs. M._ I think you had better not, dear. The British Matron has
boxed the poor young man's ears--she has really. I wonder what--but
well, it doesn't matter. Now she's turned him out of the box. He's
coming back--alone. Yes, the old lady has certainly gone--it's all
over. I'm _so_ sorry; it was ever so much more interesting than that
big fat man who's singing!
_Alth._ (_tremulously_). Mayn't I look now, CISSIE, if it's all over?
(_She almost snatches the glass, and directs it at the young man in
Box C--then to herself, with relief._) Why, it isn't CHARLES--it's
not even like him. Then--oh, what a goose I've been! It wasn't Mamma
either. It was all my fancy, and she had on rather the same kind of
bonnet. As if Mamma would come to a music-hall and box the ears of
somebody she didn't know! But _what_ a fright it gave me!
[_She begins to feel capable of enjoying the performance._
_Col. Merridew_ (_later_). Now we're going to see the great man,
CECILIA. WILDFIRE'S down to sing next.
_Capt. Alch._ Don't you be too sure, FRANK. They haven't put the
number up yet, you see. As likely as not they'll put in an "extra
turn," and he won't come at all. I've known that happen lots of times
when you come on purpose to see somethin', don't you know.
_Mrs. M._ Really, Captain ALCHIN, I shall begin to suspect that you
are more of an authority about music-halls than your modesty would
admit at first.
_Capt. Alch._ (_in some confusion_). No, really now, Mrs. MERRIDEW,
all I mean is WILDFIRE'S bringin' out a play or somethin' to-night at
the Hilarity, so he mayn't be able to turn up here, don't you see.
_Mrs. M._ I won't have you predicting evil like that; it's not at all
nice of you, and you're quite wrong, too; for there's his number in
the frame now!
[_The Scene on the Stage changes once more from an Oriental
Palace to a London Street; a bell tingles; the Orchestra
dashes into the air of_ "The Hansom Cabman," _which the bulk
of the audience hail with delight; then a stream of limelight
is thrown on the boards, and_ WALTER WILDFIRE _appears_.
_Mrs. M._ (_after the first verse_). I don't know what it is, but
there's something about him very different from all the others. And
they say he writes all his own songs and music--so clever of him!
Quite a striking face he has, rather handsome, with that drooping
moustache. Don't _you_ think he's handsome, THEA? (ALTHEA _does not
answer_; WILDFIRE _sings the last verse; as he concludes, the house is
hushed for an instant, and then breaks into a thunder of applause_.)
It's quite beautiful that last verse; poor, poor fellow! it all seemed
so real, somehow! Ah, he's not going to sing the last verse again. I'm
rather glad, for I very nearly howled, and it would be too silly to
cry at a music-hall. (_Interval._) Here he is again; how different he
looks. I suppose it's the sandwich-boards. (WILDFIRE _goes through
the second song with the small child; in the midst of the second
stanza, he suddenly falters, and only recovers himself by a violent
effort_; ALTHEA _has bent forward out of the shadow of the curtain_.)
It's too frightfully pathetic; he's such a dear, isn't he? (_The
applause is more rapturous than ever; an encore is clamoured for_;
WILDFIRE _reappears, looking ghastly pale, and makes a mute plea for
indulgence; after he has finally retired, the clamour still continues,
until the scene and the number are shifted_.) He won't sing
any more--how sad! Wasn't he charming with that child? (_In an
undertone._) Why, ALTHEA, darling!
_Alth._ (_in a shaken voice_). D--don't speak to me just yet, CISSIE.
I know it's very foolish of me; but I can't bear it.
_Capt. Alch._ (_to himself_). Gad, I'd give somethin' to sing like
that Johnny, and make her eyes shine like that!
_Mrs. M._ FRANK, we may as well go now, there's nothing else worth
staying for, and I'm sure this horrid tobacco is ruining my poor
pearls; or would you rather stay a little longer, THEA?
_Alth._ Oh, no, no; I don't want to hear anybody else--after that.
(_To herself, as_ Capt. A. _helps her on with her cloak_.) And that is
the man Mr. CURPHEW said nothing would induce him to go and see. And I
actually persuaded myself that---- But I am wiser now. He can never be
anything to me!
[_She leaves the box with her party._