Part 11 (1/2)
Hope shook her head with pathetic candour.
”No. My voice is not strong enough. I am a fair amateur, but most people can find friends to sing for them quite as well as I could do; and if they hire professionals at all, they want something better--a beautiful voice like Minnie Caldecott's, for instance. As you said yourself the day I arrived, it is a fastidious age, and mediocrity cannot hope for success.”
”Did I say that? What a singularly unhappy remark! You must forgive it, please, because of course I had no idea what was in your mind. I don't think, however, that you ought to use the word 'mediocre.' It is more a question of appropriateness. Your voice may not be suited for big entertainments--and, to speak quite frankly, I can hardly imagine your facing such an ordeal--but surely there are quieter ways of setting to work. What about children, now--children's parties? My little nieces have a party every year, and it is a serious business to find a change from the everlasting conjurer and magic-lantern. Could you not find some songs which they would like to hear?”
He looked at her inquiringly, and Hope stood still in the middle of the lane and stared at him with kindling eyes. ”_Children_!” she whispered beneath her breath--”_children_!”
It was the prettiest thing in the world to see the different emotions chase each other over the sweet face: surprise first, and puzzled questioning; then the gradual dawning of an idea, the flush of radiant triumph.
”Children's parties! Oh, what an idea! What a brilliant, brilliant ideal Mr Merrilies, how can I ever thank you? I don't know why I did not think of it myself, for it is the very thing I should love above all others; and I believe I could make it a success.”
She turned and began to walk rapidly forward, waving her hands and unfolding her programme with characteristic Charrington enthusiasm.
”I know what I will do--I know exactly. I will tell them a story, and sing descriptive little songs at intervals. Theo shall write the words and share in the profits; and the songs shall be set to well-known airs, for children love what they know, and would enjoy joining in the choruses. Oh, it will be charming!--a new fairy tale introducing all the dear old characters--the Giant who lives alone in his Castle, and eats up every one who comes in his way. 'Fe-fo-fum!' that shall be his song--'Fe-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!' Can't you hear the deep chords in the ba.s.s? Then there must be the Prince, of course, and the most beautiful Princess that ever was seen--”
”With golden hair and dark-blue eyes,” put in the listener, with a look in his eyes that pa.s.sed unnoticed by his excited companion.
”Yes, yes; and--and a wicked fairy who was not asked to the christening, and a good fairy who undid all her spells. Theo will bring them all in.
I will write to her this very night, for there is not a minute to be lost. I shall have no difficulty in setting the songs to music, and should not feel a sc.r.a.p nervous singing to children. Deal little souls!
What fun it will be watching their faces and hearing them join in the choruses! Oh, what a charming ideal! Do you really think any one would allow me to try?”
”I will give you your first engagement now, at this moment! My sister will be only too eager to secure you; and she will tell her friends of the new idea. I shall say that your fee is rather high, but that at all costs you must be engaged if she wishes the party to be a success. You must charge a good deal, you know, or people won't think half so much of you.”
Hope looked at him with shy delight.
”Must I? I should like that. Mr Merrilies, I am so grateful to you that I don't know what to say. You have made me feel so happy. If I get on at all, it will be all your doing.”
”It will be nothing of the kind. I simply mentioned the word children, and you pounced upon it and evolved the whole scheme. There is no grat.i.tude due to me,” declared Ralph Merrilies st.u.r.dily.
At that moment voices broke upon the ear, and turning a corner, they saw the three remaining ladies of the party walking back to meet them.
Avice came forward to ask Mr Merrilies some question about the carriage, while Truda turned to Hope and studied her face with gloomy eyes.
”You look very jubilant. What is the matter with you to-day?”
”I've got an idea!”
”Goodness! Is that all? I've got hundreds.” She fell a few steps behind the others, and added resentfully, ”You have managed to keep him pretty well to yourself, at any rate. He hasn't spoken a word to me all day. I don't call that keeping your promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
p.r.i.c.kINGS OF CONSCIENCE.
Truda was very silent all the way home; in plain words, she sulked, and refused to give more than monosyllabic replies to Hope's gentle overtures. When the house was reached she pleaded headache--that convenient cloak for every feminine ill, from a heartache to had temper--and retired to her room for the remainder of the afternoon.
Hope went into the empty library and wrote a long letter home, telling all about her new plans, asking Theo's co-operation, and sending a list of certain points to which she wished special attention to be given.
She wrote with interest, it is true, but with none of the elation which she had known an hour earlier; for at the back of her mind lay a consciousness that something disagreeable lay before her--a painful situation to be faced so soon as leisure should be hers. When later on she sat before her bedroom fire, in the interval before dressing for dinner, she stared into the heart of the glowing coals and thrashed out the subject--quietly, sweetly, fairly, as her nature was.
Truda was annoyed, and considered that she had been unfairly treated, in that another had monopolised something to which she possessed a prior claim. After that first very candid statement she had naturally relied on the loyalty of the girl in whom she had confided, and although no actual promise had been given, that girl had also considered herself bound in honour. Had she kept faith? For the most part Hope could honestly answer in the affirmative, but looking back over the last few days, she acknowledged that she had been sufficiently ”off guard” to allow herself to be monopolised without protest, and so had engrossed the lion's share of Ralph Merrilies' attention. _Without protest_! The blood rushed over Hope's face at the misleading sound of the words.