Volume Ii Part 15 (2/2)

”The Club House, ”Royal Yacht Squadron, Ryde.

”13th August, 18--.

”DEAR HAGGARD,

”Here I am swaggering about this place in a blue coat and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, like the other sham sailors. I'm quite out of the hunt here, however, for I can't pretend to understand the jargon of the thing. Old and new measurements, tonnage, time allowances and movable ballast, are all a sealed book to me. Of course I go on to the balcony with the other idiots to stare at the matches, and, like them, I have to pretend to manifest an intelligent interest.

”To use a nautical simile your wife's cousin is 'carrying on'

here. If I didn't know her so well I should think she meant marrying. Half the men here, including old Marlingspike, the venerable commodore, dance attendance upon her from morning till night, and she certainly looks a very bright little, tight little craft in her nautical get-up, which is the regulation thing with the women here. They say that little Jack Hornpiper proposed to her the other day; it looks rather like it, for he has suddenly started for a lengthened cruise in the Mediterranean.

”I suppose by this you have begun wiring into Pit Town's grouse, though I hear he does not keep a very big head of game on the place. When Hetton comes into it, it won't be much better, for of course all his spare cash will go in horses. I too have an invite for Walls End, but it is only just for the festivities, which everybody declares are given in honour of your wife and her boy, and to spite Hetton. He, of course, is furious. He swore at first he wouldn't put in an appearance at all, but a good many of the people here are going, and Hetton'll have to show, if only to keep his Jews quiet. The Barringtons, who as you know were never great favourites, have been quite the rage here since Miss Warrender's arrival. They are asked everywhere and go everywhere for the lady's sake, which is very good of them. The Charmington is going to astonish us all in a three-nights engagement at the local theatre; her benefit is announced under the special patronage of H.R.H. She has gone off terribly, but her hair is more luxuriant and golden than ever.

”Miss Warrender bids me tell you that she shall make a final attempt to _rescue_ Hetton on her arrival at Pit Town's place.

For your sake, old fellow, I hope she won't succeed, but I have known more unlikely things happen even than this.

”Sincerely yours, ”SPUNYARN.”

Lucy Warrender enjoyed herself thoroughly during her stay at Ryde. Mr.

Hornpiper's misfortune had been a true bill. Lucy Warrender encouraged everybody, and it was not her fault if enthusiasts like little Hornpiper cut short the delightful period of their acquaintance with the lady by proposing to her.

It has been said that a s.h.i.+p is a prison, to which is added the possibility of being drowned; this is particularly the case in regard to a yacht. Theoretically, yachting is a delightful pastime; practically, it is an exceedingly expensive foible, combining the maximum of probable discomfort and boredom with the not unremote contingency of possible danger. Given the most delightful weather, a big and well-found yacht and a really good cook, given that the cruise has been a short one, that everybody has done his or her best to make things comfortable; yet how uncommonly glad we all are to bid our host and his dear delightful daughters good-bye--and how uncommonly glad they must be to see the last of us. If any of our friends were to invite us to come and stay with them and eat tinned provisions for a fortnight, we should indignantly decline, but if we are asked to do it on board a friend's yacht, we accept with effusion, and for at least a week or two before we brag of the high old time we are going to have. I am afraid Lucy Warrender and her friends the Barringtons were only fine-weather sailors after all, but they were very popular.

There was no false pride about Lucy Warrender. When she met her old friend and rival, Mrs. Charmington, upon the pier, she shook hands with her at once. In the days when Mrs. Charmington was a leader in society, little Jack Charmington, her husband, had been tacitly ignored; but now his wife was very glad indeed to have him constantly at her elbow, and she introduced him to everybody.

”You must know Jack, Miss Warrender,” she said, as they shook hands. ”I don't know what I should do without him, my dear,” she continued. ”He always leads the applause in front, you know, and he talks to the professional people for me, when I have the misfortune to meet them in the daytime.”

”Doosid responsible position, Miss Warrender, I can tell you; one needs a const.i.tution of iron, Miss Warrender; they're so awfully hospitable, that talking with them first always means drinking with them afterwards.

It's bad enough for my wife to have quitted the scenes of her former triumphs for the coa.r.s.er joys of the play-house. But dramatic talent, my dear young lady, will a.s.sert itself. If my wife had been Empress of all the Russias, sooner or later her destiny would have declared itself, and she would have sought the only sphere which could content a woman of her talent and ambition.”

Now Mrs. Charmington's talents as an actress were microscopical. She was good looking, she had a decently good memory, and she was a dogged, plodding woman, with a good eye to the main chance. Her principle was to buy a fairly good article, to pay a good price for it, and then to make her little experiment upon the body of the vile, by hacking her piece through the provinces, say for six months; and then producing it for a short London season. There is no doubt that by time and patience it is possible to get even a little child to recite a piece of poetry with a certain amount of effect, and so it was with Mrs. Charmington. It must be remembered first, that Mrs. Charmington did not buy rubbish. She went to the great Mr. Breitmann, and she made a bargain with him. Breitmann was a man of five-and-forty; he stood six feet in his stockings, he was fair, with a quant.i.ty of light curly hair, and he had big fat fingers, which were perpetually playing upon an imaginary pianoforte; when they weren't running over an invisible keyboard, Mr. William Breitmann was engaged in extending them separately, one after the other, in a succession of violent cracks. Now the reason Mrs. Charmington went to Mr. Breitmann was, that Breitmann was a particularly independent person, who declined dancing gratuitous attendance upon Mrs. Charmington or anybody else. In vain had she favoured him with a royal command, written upon crocodile paper, headed by a magnificent monogram, illuminated in many colours, in which Mr. Breitmann was informed that ”Mrs. Charmington would be pleased if Mr. Breitmann would kindly call upon her on Tuesday, at three, as she wished to talk over a matter of business with him.” A rude and cruel answer, short and to the point, came by return of post:

”MADAM,

”I have no business with you.

”Yours obediently,

”W. BREITMANN.”

Then she sent an amba.s.sador. Jack Charmington called four times upon the dramatist at his club, but even then, after bribing the page boy to indiscreetly admit that the great Breitmann was on the premises, he still found him sufficiently difficult to approach. As Jack stood in the little bare den marked ”Strangers' Room,” he heard voices in loud talking, with occasional shouts of laughter; then he heard a gruff and angry voice grunt in an irritated manner, ”Charmington, what is Charmington? I don't know Charmington. Tell him to go to----.” And here a door slammed violently.

The page boy entered the strangers' room and communicated to Mr.

Charmington the fact that the great man was busy.

”Did you tell him I wanted to see him on business?”

”They all say that, sir,” replied the boy; ”he's a very busy gentleman Mr. Breitmann, sir, if you please.”

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