A POPULAR DEMONSTRATION.
Miss Eleanor Scaife was _gouvernante des enfants de_ New Lindsey; but
she found the duty of looking after two small children, shared as it was
with a couple of nurses, not enough to occupy her energies. So she
organised the hospitality of Government House, and interested herself in
the political problems of a young community. In the course of the latter
pursuit, a study of Mr. Medland appeared appropriate and needful, and
Miss Scaife was minded to engage in it, in spite of the hostility of
Lady Eynesford. She had studied Sir Robert Perry for three years, but
Sir Robert was disappointing. That he was a charming old gentleman she
freely admitted, but he was not in any special way characteristic of a
young community. He was just like half-a-hundred members of Parliament
whom she had known while she lived with the Eynesfords at home: in fact
he was irredeemably European. Accordingly she was glad to see him, but
she mentally transferred him to the recreative department, and talked
to him about scenery, pictures, and light literature. Lady Eynesford
admired Sir Robert because there was no smack of the young community
about him; Miss Scaife conceded that point of view, but maintained that
there was another: and from that other she ranked Mr. Medland above a
thousand Sir Roberts. All this she explained to Alicia Derosne, after
Lady Eynesford had retired in dudgeon, and while the Governor was
closeted with the new Premier.
"But," objected Alicia, "Captain Heseltine says----"
"Unless," interrupted Eleanor, "it's something about a coat, I don't
care what Captain Heseltine says. He's an authority on that subject, but
on no other under the sun."
Alicia abandoned Captain Heseltine's authority and fell back on her
sister-in-law's; Eleanor, in spite of the unusual relations of intimate
friendship, dating from old school-days, between her employer and
herself, could not treat Lady Eynesford's opinion with open disrespect.
She drew certain distinctions, which resulted in demonstrating that a
close acquaintance between Mr. Medland and Alicia was inadvisable, but
that as regards herself the case was different.
"In short," said Alicia, summarising the distinctions, "you are thirty
and I am twenty-two. But I don't want to know the man, only I liked him
for hunting that butterfly. I wonder what Miss Medland is like. Captain
Heseltine says she's very pretty."
"I don't know."
"Is she out? Oh, but does one come out in New Lindsey?"
"It will be much more convenient if she isn't out," said Miss Scaife,
rising and beginning to walk towards the house.
Alicia accompanied her. Before they had gone far, Mr. Medland and Dick
Derosne appeared in the drive. The interview was ended, and Dick was
escorting Mr. Medland.
"I'm afraid we can't avoid them," said Miss Scaife.
"I'm afraid not," said Alicia. "I wonder what they're talking about."
Mr. Medland's voice, though not loud in ordinary speech, was distinct
and penetrating. In a moment Alicia's wonder was satisfied.
"Only be sure you get the right gin," he said.
"Good gracious!" said Alicia. "Is that characteristic of a young
community, Eleanor?"
Miss Scaife made no reply. The two parties met, and Mr. Medland was
presented. At this instant, Alicia, glancing at the house, thought she
saw a disapproving face at Lady Eynesford's window; but it seemed hardly
likely that the Governor's wife would be watching the Premier out of the
window. Alicia wondered whether they had met in the house; Miss Scaife
felt no doubt that they had not. She knew that Lady Eynesford's
surrender would be a matter of time.
"Well," she said, "are we to congratulate you, Mr. Medland?"
"I believe my tongue is supposed to be sealed for the time," he
answered, smiling.
"Mine isn't," laughed Dick, "and I think you may offer him your
felicitations."
"You think it, yourself, a subject for congratulation?" asked Eleanor,
getting to work at once.
"Oh, Eleanor!" protested Alicia. "Poor Mr. Medland!"
Medland glanced from one to the other, smiling again.
"Whatever may be the sacrifice of personal inclination involved," he
began solemnly, "when the Governor calls on me I have no----"
"You're making fun of us," said Alicia, seeing the twinkle in his eye.
"I am quoting Mr.--Sir Robert Perry's speech when he last came in."
"Sir Robert is a great friend of mine," declared Alicia.
"Seriously," said Medland, turning to Eleanor, "I am very pleased."
"Why?" she asked. "The responsibility must be frightful."
Alicia and Dick laughed irreverently.
"Eleanor's always talking about responsibility," said the former. "I
hate the idea of it, don't you, Mr. Medland?"
"Call it power and try then," he answered.
"Power? Oh, but I have none!"
"No?" he asked, with a look that made Alicia think he might have been
"nice" when he was a young man.
"Oh, of course, if it's mere ambition--" began Eleanor impatiently.
"Not altogether," he interposed.
"Then what else?"
"Listen!" he said, holding up his hand.
They were now within twenty or thirty yards of the road, and, listening,
they heard the murmur of many voices. Government House stood on the
shore of the bay, about half a mile outside the town, and a broad road
ran by the gates which, on reaching Kirton, was merged in one of the
main thoroughfares, Victoria Street.
Another turn brought the party in the garden in sight of the road. It
was thronged with people for a considerable distance, people in a thick
mass, surging up against the gate and hardly held back by a cordon of
police.
"Whatever can be the matter?" exclaimed Eleanor.
"I am the matter," said Medland. "They have heard about it."
When the crowd saw him, cheer after cheer rang out, caps and
handkerchiefs were waved, and even flags made a sudden appearance.
Moving a pace in advance of his companions, he lifted his hat, and the
enthusiastic cries burst forth with renewed vigour. He signed to them
to be still, but they did not heed him. Alicia caught hold of Eleanor's
hand, her breath coming and going in sudden gasps. Eleanor looked at
Medland. He was moistening his lips, and she saw a little quiver run
through his limbs.
"By Jove!" said Dick Derosne.
Medland turned to Eleanor, and pointed to the crowd.
"Yes, I see," she said.
He held out his hand to bid them farewell, and walked on towards the
gate. They stood and watched his progress. Suddenly a different cry
rose.
"Let her pass! Let her pass! Let her through to him!"
The crowd slowly parted, and down the middle of the road, amid the
raising of hats and pretty rough compliments, a young girl came walking
swiftly and proudly, with a smile on her lips.
"It's his daughter," whispered Alicia. "Oh!"
Medland opened the gate and went out. The girl, her fair hair blowing
out behind her and her cheeks glowing red, ran to meet him, and, as he
stooped and kissed her, the crowd, having, as a crowd, but one way to
tell its feelings, roared and cheered again. Medland, with one hand on
his daughter's shoulder and the other holding his hat, walked down the
lane between human walls, and was lost to sight as the walls found
motion and closed in behind him.
After some moments' silence Dick Derosne recovered himself, and remarked
with a cynical air,
"Neat bit of acting--kissing the girl and all that."
But Alicia would not have it. With a tremulous laugh, she said,
"I should like to have kissed him too. Oh, Eleanor, I didn't know it was
like that!"
Perhaps Eleanor did not either, but she would not admit it. What was it
but a lot of ignorant people cheering they knew not what? If anything,
it was degrading. Yet, in spite of these most reasonable reflections,
she knew that her cheeks had flushed and her heart beat at the sight and
the sound.
They were still standing and watching the crowd as it retreated towards
Kirton, when the Governor, who had come out to get some fresh air after
his arduous labour, joined them.
"Extraordinary the popularity of the man in Kirton," he observed, in
answer to Alicia's eager description of Mr. Medland's triumph.
"What has he done for them?" asked Eleanor.
"Done? Oh, I don't know. He's done something, I suppose; but it's what
he's going to do that they're so keen about."
"Is he a Socialist?" inquired Alicia.
"I can't tell you," replied Lord Eynesford. "I don't know what he
is--and I'm not sure I know what a Socialist is. Ask Eleanor."
"A Socialist," began Eleanor, in an authoritative tone, "is----"
But this much-desired definition was unhappily lost, for a footman came
up and told Lord Eynesford that his wife would like to see him if he
were disengaged.
The Governor smiled grimly, winked imperceptibly, and departed.
"It's been quite an entertaining day," said Miss Scaife. "But I'm very
sorry for Sir Robert."
"What was Mr. Medland talking to you about, Dick?" asked Alicia.
"Oh, a new sort of drink. You take a long glass, and some pounded ice
and some gin--only you must be careful to get----"
"I don't want to hear about it."
"Well, you asked, you know," retorted Dick, with the air of a man who
suffers under the perpetual illogicality of woman.