THE COMPROMISE
Everybody that afternoon seemed to be bringing something. We might
have been spreading broadcast an announcement that each caller was
expected to provide himself with an offering as evidence of good
faith. The moment I set eyes on Major Tibbet I perceived that he had
his. It took the shape of a brown-paper parcel of some size, and,
apparently, some weight, since he bore it in front of him, on both
arms, as if it were a baby. As he is not the kind of person one would
expect to see carry a parcel of any kind, the effect was a little
funny.
Audrey’s and Doris’ forced laughter seemed to give him a false
impression of what was going on. He broke into what he probably
intended should be a smile of the extremest affability.
“I come at a fortunate moment, to find you laughing! full of fun!
Nothing so delightful as the merriment of young ladies. I thoroughly
enjoy a joke, myself.” He addressed Audrey. “I have here a trifle
which I trust will not meet with the disapprobation of Mrs O’Brady.”
“It doesn’t look as if it were a trifle.”
“Between ourselves, it’s not--weighs twenty pounds if an
ounce--magnificent bird--pick of the market.” His voice assumed a tone
of great solemnity. “It’s a truffled turkey--prepared by my own chef,
with his own hands, after a recipe of his own. A _chef-d’œuvre_; an
unique, Miss Audrey, an unique!”
The Major makes a god of his belly. The only things he really cares
for--besides the decoration of his ridiculous old person--are things
to eat and drink. He keeps the menus of his dinners. He can give you
the history--with all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed--of meals he
ate thirty years ago; with the names of all the dishes, detailed
accounts of how they were cooked, and realistic descriptions of how
they tasted. It gives me a feeling of having over-eaten myself to hear
him talk.
“I have ventured, also, Miss Audrey, to command a small dinner at the
King’s to-night, which I am hopeful that Mrs O’Brady will do me the
honour of eating with me. I will tell you what I have ordered----”
“Had you not better tell mamma that? She might like to be the first
recipient of so delicious a communication.”
“You may be right. I think you probably are. When one considers the
matter broadly, one perceives that that would only be just to Mrs
O’Brady. I will tell you afterwards, Miss Audrey; only a pleasure
postponed, that’s all. This parcel is a trifle heavy; I think, with
your permission, I should like to----”
As he began to look about for a spot on which to deposit his
twenty-pound turkey, his eyes travelled in my direction. When they
reached me, he started. He came a step nearer, as if, at that
distance, his poor, faded, old eyes were not perfectly sure that it
was I. Having made up his mind upon the point, he quite obviously
started again, coming close up to me with a sort of little canter. At
the same moment I was conscious--though the Major was not--that mamma
had entered the room, and stood just inside the door, listening and
looking on.
“My dear Miss Norah, fancy my not noticing you before--most
extraordinary! Can’t think how it could have happened. I’m sure, I beg
ten thousand pardons. However, better late than never; you know the
old saying, my dear Miss Norah. Allow me to present you with this
truffled turkey--done by my own man. If I were to tell you, in
confidence, what I pay the fellow, you’d stare. I’ve reason to believe
that, before you put your fork into him, this bird will have cost me
five pounds. Yet I dare to assert that, by the time you have done with
him, you will agree with me that he was worth every farthing of it,
Miss Norah, every farthing.”
“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I do not care for truffled turkey.”
“Not care for truffled turkey! What are you saying, Miss Norah? You
can’t mean it. I suppose it’s a jest of yours--an excellent one, too.
Because, of course, it isn’t possible that anyone shouldn’t care for
truffled turkey.”
“It is not only possible, but, in my case, it’s an actual fact. I do
not care for truffled turkey, Major Tibbet. Nor, in any case, could I
accept a gift which was intended for my mother.”
When I said this, I saw mamma--who, with the aid of her _pince-nez_,
had been taking the liveliest interest in the Major’s remarks--give a
kind of little jump. I knew that she liked truffled turkey, and that,
indeed, on the subject of eating and drinking, generally, she and the
Major were in considerable sympathy. I suppose that, when people grow
old, they are fonder of that kind of thing than when they are young.
That gormandising Major, in complete unconsciousness of who was
standing behind him, threw mamma’s prior claim upon his wretched bird
entirely overboard.
“Ah, your mother, your respected mother. I do like to find young girls
considering their mothers. It’s a sweet trait--yes, it’s a very sweet
trait--in your character, Miss Norah. Still, I’ve no doubt that you
and I, between us, shall be able to manage with your mother,
afterwards--that is, if you will condescend to accept my little
offering.”
“Thank you, Major Tibbet, but I will not.”
“Then, in that case, we’ll say no more about it, and we’ll settle it
in this way. I’ve ordered dinner at the King’s restaurant this
evening. If they carry out my instructions--and, if they don’t,
they’ll hear of it!--I think I can promise you something which shall
be worthy even of--Miss Norah; if Miss Norah will permit me to count
upon her as my guest.”
“I thought, Major Tibbet, that the dinner also was intended for
mamma.”
“Really, Miss Norah, really! you are unduly severe, you really are!
You should never go behind an invitation--never. When I invite you, I
invite you, and venture to anticipate a favourable reply. It would
make me so happy, Miss Norah, it really would.”
Jack Purchase came forward.
“Pardon me, Major Tibbet. Perhaps, Miss Norah, I had better explain.
Major Tibbet, Miss Norah will not be able to dine with you to-night,
as she is sharing my box at the Gaiety Theatre.”
Basil Carter followed.
“Major Tibbet, in a sense, that statement is correct--with the
solitary exception that it is my box which Miss Norah is going to
share.”
“Now, Basil, have I again to remonstrate with you?”
“My dear Jack, the remonstrance would more properly come from me!”
Walter Hammond thrust in his comments, seeming to jerk out his limbs
in all directions as he spoke.
“At it again! Nice boys, aren’t they, Miss Norah? Always in their
little nests agree! Since still they can’t make up their minds who’s
who, and what’s what, and Tibbet’s a little late with his dinner, do
say, Miss Norah, you’ll have that stall of mine. It’ll be so sporting
of you, don’t you know; and you’ll be able to nod now and then at
Purchase and Carter, as they sit glaring at each other in their
boxes.”
Apparently mamma had arrived at the conclusion that it was time to
announce her presence.
“What does this discussion mean? And how is it that Norah has all at
once become the centre of so much attention? Norah, what have you been
doing? How are you, gentlemen? Good-afternoon, Major.”
Major Tibbet advanced to mamma, holding out his brown paper parcel--of
which I rather suspected he had become wearied.
“Here you are, Mrs O’Brady! How are you? Hope you’re well. Here’s a
truffled turkey for you. Miss Norah doesn’t seem to care for it, but
I’m sure you will. Much pleasure in giving it you, I’m sure.”
Whether mamma had equal pleasure in accepting it was not so
obvious--particularly after the remarks which she could not have
helped but hear, and the manner of presentation was, to say the least,
peculiar. Without waiting to see if mamma was ready to relieve him of
his burden, he forced it on her in such a very singular fashion that
it went crashing to the floor. He did not stop to inquire if it had
fallen on her feet, which it might easily have done, and twenty pounds
is twenty pounds when it falls upon your tightly-fitting slippers;
still less did he trouble himself to even offer to pick it up again.
The moment he had got rid of it he came bustling back to me, mumbling
an apology which was fashioned on lines which were distinctly his own.
“Beg pardon--thought you’d got it--really! Better ring the bell, and
tell servant to take it away--thing’s so heavy, nearly broken both my
arms--couldn’t have held it another moment, really! Now, Miss Norah,
about this dinner to-night. I’ve ordered a bisque, which--I give you
my personal assurance--when you have once tasted it you will not
easily forget.”
Again there came an interposition from Mr Purchase.
“Miss Norah will not have an opportunity of forgetting the--article in
question, since it is apparently necessary to repeat to you that, this
evening, she is engaged to me.”
“To me, that is.”
This, of course, was Basil Carter.
“I would recommend you, Major Tibbet, to understand that Purchase
speaks in a general sense only, since, in the letter, as a matter of
plain fact, Miss Norah is engaged to me.”
“Major Tibbet, Basil, is too wise a man to discredit my positive
statement.”
“He will be an exceedingly unwise one if he casts the faintest shadow
of a doubt on mine.”
Then came Mr Hammond.
“I’m the last person in the world to wish to breed dissension where
there’s disputing already, because a pretty quarrel’s too good a thing
to spoil; but I take leave to remark, Mr Carter, and Mr Purchase, and
Major Tibbet, that Miss Norah will relieve you of all your
difficulties by bestowing her society on me.”
“Norah,” observed mamma, in that icy tone which I knew so well, and
which I knew suggested that she was not in the very sweetest temper,
“I think you had better retire to your own room.”
“To her own room!” cried Mr Hammond. “And why, Mrs O’Brady, would you
break our hearts and darken the heavens?”
“I don’t know if you are aware, Mr Hammond, that at least your
language is peculiar. I am afraid that Norah must have been forgetting
herself to be the cause of this--singular scene.”
“Forgetting herself? Not at all! It’s we who have been remembering
her--that’s how it is, Mrs O’Brady. And, between ourselves, I’d be
glad if you’d tell her that you’d like her to occupy a stall I have
to-night at the Gaiety Theatre.”
“Excuse me, Mrs O’Brady,” interposed Basil Carter, “but Mr Hammond
seems disposed to take an unfair advantage of you. It is I who would
ask you to permit Miss Norah to share my box.”
“Mrs O’Brady,” exclaimed Jack Purchase, “before you say one word to
either of them, please allow me to inform you that it was I who first
asked Miss Norah to honour me.”
“And how about my dinner at the King’s!” cried Major Tibbet. “I need
hardly tell you, Mrs O’Brady, that I have the good fortune to be
somewhat the senior of these young gentlemen, and it is therefore with
every confidence that I ask you this evening to entrust Miss Norah to
me.”
Mamma’s manner, as she replied, was anything but genial.
“Whether consciously or not I cannot say, but you gentlemen are
behaving with more than a little singularity. You seem oblivious of
the fact that other ladies are present besides this--child. Must I
again request you, Norah, to oblige me by at once retiring to your own
room?”
Suddenly a voice came from the door, and Mr Rumford advanced at a pace
which was hardly becoming to his decidedly well-developed figure--in
his hand the ubiquitous box. He and Lilian had entered together, and
only a second before, unless I was much mistaken, I had seen him
offering it to her. Now he withdrew it, with what was very like a
snatch, from her approaching fingers.
“Retire to her own room!” he protested, in that loud, ringing voice of
his, which always made me think what an excellent cheap-jack he would
have made. “You couldn’t be so cruel, Mrs O’Brady. It’s not to be
thought of, not for a moment. May I ask you to accept these bonbons,
dear Miss Norah? I am sure you have a sweet tooth--it would be so in
character. And I am so fortunate as to have two stalls to-night for
the Gaiety Theatre. If you would avail yourself of one----”
He was interrupted by Audrey breaking into an apparently irresistible
peal of laughter. Everyone turned to stare at her. That sort of thing
is so unusual in Audrey, who is generally the quietest of persons. I,
for one, had never heard her laugh like that before. She endeavoured
to explain what had caused her merriment.
“It really is so funny; all the world is going to-night to the Gaiety
Theatre. The coincidence is most amusing.”
“And yet the explanation is extremely simple,” commented Eveleen,
speaking in a coldly acid voice, which meant that she was raging hot
within. “We have all been talking about it lately, and I suppose that
we have all dropped hints that we would like to go. These gentlemen,
with that generosity which we know is one of their most charming
characteristics, have acted on those hints--up to a certain point.
They have all, with one accord, provided themselves with seats. Are we
to take it, Norah, that you propose to occupy them all?”
Mr Hammond snapped his fingers, making a noise like the report of a
pop gun.
“You’ve hit it on the head, Miss Eveleen; prevented bloodshed, and
solved the problem. Miss Norah, we’ll act upon your sister’s hint.
Tibbet, we all of us will dine with you.”
The Major looked as if the proposition took him by surprise--which was
not to be wondered at.
“You’ll excuse me, Mr Hammond, but I’m hanged if you will.”
“Then Miss Norah won’t, for to-night we hunt in companies.”
The Major looked at the speaker with a rueful countenance.
“How many are there of you?”
“Four, barring Miss Norah, and she counts for all the world. At what
time do you dine?”
“I, sir, dine at eight.”
“Eight! Why, man, that’s the time the theatre begins. You’ll dine at
seven.”
“You adopt a very peculiar tone, Mr Hammond, in endeavouring to
dictate to me at what hour I take my meals. I entirely decline to
contemplate the possibility of my dining at such an un-Christian hour
as seven.”
“Good! then we’ll dine at seven, and you’ll dine afterwards. When
we’ve dined we’ll go on together in a body to the theatre, and Miss
Norah shall take it turn and turn about to sit with us. What do you
say, gentlemen? Isn’t that a sporting proposition?”
“On condition that Miss Norah sits first of all with me, I, for one,
am not indisposed, for the sake of peace, to waive some portion of my
undoubted rights.”
This was Basil Carter. Mr Purchase came hard upon his heels.
“Now, Basil, you’ve taken the words out of my mouth. If Miss Norah
sits first with me, Hammond, you may count me in.”
“Gentlemen! gentlemen!” cried Mr Rumford. “It appears to me that I
have a voice in the matter; I claim the place of honour.”
Mr Hammond endeavoured to throw oil upon the waters.
“Softly! keep a tight hand upon the reins. Wait till the gate has
gone, then we’ll all be off together. There need be no difficulty
about a little thing like that. For my part, if the running’s fair,
I’m willing that my stall shall be the last Miss Norah sits in;
that’ll suit me all the way. But there are ways and means of settling
that sort of thing pleasantly and quietly between ourselves. The main
point is the principle--we’re to share and share alike. If that’s
conceded, we’ll worry about the details afterwards. You understand,
Miss Norah, that you’re to dine with us at seven. We’ll be here, the
lot of us, to fetch you at a quarter to. For the sake of all the good
horses that ever ran an honest race, be ready--don’t keep us
waiting--we’ll be an anxious crowd. And, until then, Miss Norah, I’ll
be wishing you good-bye.”
“I also, Miss Norah,” said Mr Carter, taking my hand before I knew
that he meant to offer me his. “I am well aware that your near
neighbourhood will bring happiness to me, but, at the same time, I
would have you clearly realise that I only relinquish the rare
privilege of your undivided society throughout the evening for the
sake of that harmony which I know you would desire.”
“Miss Norah,” urged Mr Purchase, “do not for one moment suppose that,
in self-abnegation, Basil is one whit in front of me. What I suffer by
acceding, for the sake of peace, to the compromise which has been
suggested, it is possible that you will one day know.”
“It’s you only I’m thinking of, Miss Norah,” declared Mr Rumford. “I
needn’t tell you which I’m likely to prefer, to have you all to
myself--blissful thought, Miss Norah!--or to--to share you with a
crowd.”
Mr Rumford looked about him in a way which certainly was not
suggestive of the harmony of which they all were speaking. Major
Tibbet joined himself to the chorus, with a simper which ill became
him.
“You will judge what my feelings are, Miss Norah, when I tell you
that, for your sake, I will consent to dine at seven. I have made it
one of the rules of my life never to dine, anywhere, before eight. How
long it is since I dined at the abnormal hour of seven, I am unable to
say positively, without referring. But so far as my memory serves
me--and in matters of such importance I think my memory may be
trusted--I say, that so far as my memory serves me----”
“Yes, we know what you say, Tibbet; and you can say the rest to-night.
Remember, Miss Norah, a quarter to seven--sharp!”
Mr Hammond thrust his arm through the Major’s and bore him away. The
five men all left the room, and I was left alone with the girls and
mamma.