Part 7 (1/2)
To the credit of their breeding, be it said, Philippa and Madge rose n.o.bly to the occasion, and welcomed the unwelcome guests without either apology or confusion. Madge smiled sweetly through her wisps of hair, and discussed the weather in orthodox fas.h.i.+on, before sailing out of the room to clothe herself in more suitable attire. Hope was proud of her sisters, and unselfishly annoyed that she should appear to better advantage than they; for she had dressed early after her return from a wet and tiring walk. She met her cousin's curious gaze, and sat down beside her with a friendly smile.
”You are Avice. I have so often wondered about you?”
”You are Hope. I have a picture of you as a little girl. It is so pretty! You haven't changed a bit.”
”Oh, oh, you shouldn't! But how nice of you, all the same! I love compliments,” confessed pretty Hope, blus.h.i.+ng in bewitching fas.h.i.+on between gratification and embarra.s.sment. She looked at Avice in her turn, and decided that she was not at all pretty. But, oh, what clothes! What a dream of a hat! What distracting ruffles and laces peeping from between the sables! What twinkling lights of diamond brooches! She paused for a moment to do obeisance before a vision of herself clad in similar garments, then continued, with a smile, ”I am so glad to meet you! It feels lonely to be absolutely without friends in this great London, and so far we know no one at all.”
”You are the musical one, aren't you?” Avice asked curiously. ”You are all geniuses, father says, and determined to make a name in the world.
Have you begun work? What have you done so far?”
Hope smiled with pardonable satisfaction.
”Well, really, I think we have made a good start. Theo has interviewed one of the most influential editors in Fleet Street, and has been asked to send MSS to his paper. Madge has sent in her two show-pictures to the Slade School, and is to begin regular work there at the half-term.
Meantime she is studying the different exhibitions and collections, and, as she says, picking up 'quite valuable hints' from old masters. She is so amusing! She comes home every evening with absurd accounts of her adventures. Most people would find it rather dull spending a whole day at the National Gallery, for instance, but Madge has the faculty of finding amus.e.m.e.nt wherever she goes, and, even apart from the pictures, has a dozen little histories and romances to recount.”
”Y-es,” a.s.sented Avice flatly. She herself had little sense of humour, and was by no means prepossessed by the plain, elf-like figure of her youngest cousin Hope, on the contrary, was graceful and charming, and had been already mentally adopted as the friend of the future. ”What are _you_ doing?” she asked, with an interest which could not fail to be flattering, and Hope moved her chair a trifle closer with an impulse of girlish confidence.
”Oh, I am getting on so well! I have had my first lesson in harmony, and my master is so kind and encouraging. He seems to think that I know a great deal already, and his work is so interesting. In the mornings I study and practise, and in the afternoons I try to hear as much music as I can. I go to cheap seats at concerts and recitals, or to service at the Abbey or Saint Paul's. And fancy! I have had a commission to write a song for a professional--a real professional--a lady who sings at concerts all over the country. You may know her name--Miss Minnie Caldecott.”
Yes, Avice knew it quite well, and was duly impressed by the news. She pa.s.sed it on to her mother, who was sitting silently criticising the details of the room, while her husband talked to the older girls. She also appeared impressed, and expressed a desire to hear Hope perform one of her own compositions. Accordingly the piano was opened, and the girl sang, not one song, but two, so that her relations might appreciate the variety of her style: first the graceful and would-be cla.s.sical setting to the words which Miss Minnie had despised, and then the more taking, if less high-cla.s.s, ”domestic” ditty. Mrs Loftus had little of the maternal instinct in her composition, but even her hard face softened as Hope's fresh voice sang the sweet, simple words. Uncle Loftus cried ”Bravo! bravo!” and Avice opened wide surprised eyes. Mrs Loftus put up her eyegla.s.ses and examined the singer in critical fas.h.i.+on. So young; so pretty; so exceptionally gifted! Really, the girl would be a useful addition to an evening's entertainment or a house-party in the country.
She made a mental note that Hope was the ”presentable” member of the family, then rose to take her departure, murmuring society nothings as she shook hands with Philippa, and checking Avice's farewell words with a warning frown.
”Oh yes, we must arrange to meet again. I will look over our list.
Don't make any plans to-day, dear; you are so overdone with engagements.”
She rustled to the door, followed by her obedient spouse, who was allowed no time to speak, but instead delivered himself of a succession of mysterious nods and smiles, which left the girls in a state of amused mystification. The explanation was, however, speedily forthcoming, for ten minutes had not elapsed after the departure of the three when a second bell sounded, and there stood Mr Loftus, erect and self-confident, a man on his own account, with no overwhelming feminine element to keep him in the background.
”Back again like a bad penny!” he cried jocosely. ”Just a word to say to you, my dears--a word in your ears. Put the ladies into the carriage, and went on 'to my club.' He, he! Useful things, clubs!
About that boy, now. Don't approve of your spending capital--never approved of that, you know--but pleased to help you all the same.
Edgar's children. Yes! Ought to give you a lift. Fifteen--eh? Young to leave school, but can't be helped, I suppose. Was speaking to Spence the other day--most influential man--thinks he might take him in there.
Eh? Insurance office--huge place--hundreds of clerks. Spence is manager. Always taking in new fellows. What do you think of that--eh?”
”Please sit down, uncle,” said Philippa, greatly puzzled by the short, jerky sentences; and, so far as she could judge of the proposal, thinking about as badly of it as it was possible to do. ”It is very kind of you to remember Barney, and we are most anxious to find him an opening, but I don't know that insurance--and such a number of clerks, too! Would not a boy be likely to be lost among them, and drudge on year after year without promotion?”
”In an ordinary way, yes; but this would be different. I'm on the Board, you see--on the Board--chairman last year. Spence a personal friend. Could help him on if he stuck to his work. Don't know the boy, but if Spence took a fancy to him, there isn't a man in town who has more in his power. Peculiar man, Spence! Difficult temper--autocratic; but if he takes a fancy, there's nothing he won't do. Barney, now--what kind of a boy is Barney?”
”All kinds,” replied Philippa, smiling. She felt perfectly satisfied that Mr Spence _would_ take a fancy to Barney, but whether that young gentleman would ”stick” to his work was another and a very different question.
”He is a very handsome boy, Uncle Loftus, and full of fun and mischief.
He is clever, but I'm afraid not too industrious. We hope that he will settle down and realise that he has his way to make; but he is young, as you say. Mr Spence might not have patience with him.”
”Oh, Spence would have nothing to do with him at first. He would have to obey the head of his department. Send Stephen to me to talk it over.
Men understand business; girls, you know--pretty girls like you--think only of bonnets. That's it, Hope, isn't it? Quite right, too. Get a becoming one, my dear, and come and see me in it when it is bought. Now I must be off. Glad to have seen you all Pretty little nest at the top of the tree! Hope it may be prophetic. Hard on my legs, though. Stiff in the knees. Not so young as I was, my dears--not so young as I was.”
He went toddling out of the door, smiling and chuckling to himself, and as he descended the staircase the echo of disjointed phrases reached the girls' ears: ”Top of the tree! Ha, ha! Not so young as I was.
Prophetic--eh! Hope it is prophetic.”