Part 19 (2/2)
”On the same terms?” queried Madge blandly. ”Because if so, I hardly see where the artist comes in. There must be reciprocity in these things, Miss Caldecott. I cannot work for nothing. Now, for instance, if you were going to sing Hope's song--”
Miss Caldecott looked shocked at the suggestion.
”My dear girl, it's impossible. I'm booming three songs for publishers just now, and get half-a-guinea apiece every time I sing them. That is what Hope should do: get some firm to push her things, and pay for having them sung. She will never make a name until she does.”
”Just so; but as she is young and unknown, they don't feel inclined to help her. It would help matters considerably if you would give 'The Song of Sleep' at your concert. You might possibly lose ten-and-sixpence, but, on the other hand, my charge for an ill.u.s.trated programme is five guineas! You would have the best of the bargain.”
In the silence which followed the Hermit's chuckle of delight was distinctly audible. Minnie looked at him sharply, nodded her head as if in sympathy with his enjoyment, and cried laughingly:
”_She'll_ get on! No fear for her! Knows how to look after herself, and her sister too. Very well, then, it shall be an encore; but you must do your best for me, mind--something very fetching. If you could give a hint of a wedding it would be a good idea. I don't want the audience to think I am retiring through old age. Thirty, indeed!” and she threw an indignant glance at the Hermit, the while Madge laughed, and suggested:
”Wedding-bells, and a wreath of orange-blossoms as a bordering?”
”Yes, yes! Just the thing! Bring the sketch to show me, and we can consult about it together, for I really can't manage these stairs again.
I'm so pleased it's all settled?”
She rose as she spoke, and prepared to take her leave, but as she did so her eye fell on the row of photographs on the chimneypiece, and she walked forward to examine them in her usual free-and-easy fas.h.i.+on.
”Family pictures! There is Hope--not half pretty enough, though. That was your father, I suppose. So clever, wasn't he! By the way, how is that young brother of yours getting on?”
If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof, the occupants of the room could hardly have been more startled than by this simple question. This was Miss Caldecott's first visit to the flat; Barney's name had never been mentioned in her presence; how, then, did she come to know of his existence? The shadow which had been pushed aside for a few minutes now returned more heavily than ever, and the pale, tense faces of the four girls startled the innocent questioner.
”What is the matter? What have I said? Nothing to worry you, have I?”
”We are in trouble about our brother, Miss Caldecott. He has-- disappeared,” said Philippa, resting both hands on the back of a chair to hide their trembling. ”Do you mind telling us how you came to know him?”
”But I don't know him; only heard his name casually from a friend.
Handsome boy, isn't he?--musical--sings comic songs and dances break-downs--up to all sorts of fun?”
”Yes, yes!” cried the sisters in concert, and the Hermit drew near, forgetting his embarra.s.sment in his anxiety to hear what might be told.
The five pairs of eyes were fixed hungrily on the silly, pretty face, and even as they looked they saw it change, soften into sympathy, and grow sweet and earnest and womanly.
”And he has run away, has he? And you are sitting at home waiting for him, and breaking your hearts. Poor little girls! Wouldn't it be lovely if I helped you to find him, after all? Now, I'll tell you all I know. I had some friends in the other night, and one of the men was turning over my songs and found 'The Song of Sleep.' We laughed about it a good deal, for I told him it was half my own composition. He noticed the name--Hope Charrington--and said he knew a young fellow of that name; who was one of the most amusing boys he had ever met, and could sing a rattling comic song. He is musical, this man I am speaking of, and is fond of having little singsongs at his rooms. I asked one or two questions, found out that it must be your brother, and told Jim I would warn you that he was not a fit companion for a lad. Oh, I was only in fun; there's no real harm in Jim, but he is in rather a fast, betting set, and I have a young brother of my own. I know how I should feel about it I determined to give you a hint next time we met, and I _did_ remember, didn't I? I am so glad I didn't forget!”
The look of elation which accompanied the last words brought a smile to Hope's face. She had reason to know Miss Caldecott's powers of forgetting, and it argued a wonderful amount of interest that she should have, remembered Barney in the midst of the exciting preparations for her benefit concert. She slipped her hand through the plump arm and pressed it gently, while Philippa asked half-a-dozen breathless questions.
”How long ago was that? Have you heard nothing since? Where had he met Barney? Is he in an insurance office?”
”Insurance? No, that is not it. He has quite a good berth somewhere-- s.h.i.+pping office, I think. Their s.h.i.+ps go out to the Cape.”
She drew her breath sharply as she finished her sentence, and, to judge by the startled look which went round, the same thought had flashed through every mind. s.h.i.+pping! s.h.i.+ps that went out to the Cape! What better means by which to frustrate the most diligent search? Barney had always had a craving for the sea, and if this unknown ”Jim” had influence in his office, and felt himself even indirectly responsible for the trouble in which the boy found himself, what more likely than that he would help him to a fresh start?
”I shouldn't wonder one bit if that is the explanation,” cried Minnie triumphantly. ”Two to one he has gone off in one of their boats; and a very good thing if he has. Nothing knocks the nonsense out of a boy like a good long voyage. He'll be so thankful to get back that he will settle down to anything you like to mention. Got into trouble, I suppose, before he went? Nothing serious, I hope.”
She had shown herself so kind and sympathetic that Philippa could not refuse to reply, and Minnie listened to the story of Barney's debts with indulgent sympathy.
”And so he ran away from them. Just what I have longed to do myself a dozen times over. Now, you will want to see Jim, and hear what he has to say. I shall be pa.s.sing near his lodgings on my way home, and if Mr--er--Neil, isn't it?--likes to come with me, we might interview him together. He gets home by half-past five, as a rule.”
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