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Theclock on the chimneypiece chimed a quarter past eight, and on Pikey’s advice the Deputy made her way down to the drawing room. She was horribly afraid, yet as she caught another view of herself in a mirror at the top of the stairs, she was not wholly in the grip of that unworthy emotion. What a necklace! Its value must be fabulous. As the light caught it and transmitted its spurious rays, her slender white throat looked slenderer and whiter than ever before. Then, too, the flush of rose in the center of each cheek and the almost unnatural brightness in her eyes blended with the wonderful frock quite remarkably. She could not help lingering a moment in front of the glass, half astonished by her own beauty.
Hearing a sound behind her she moved on. But she had not gone more than two steps down the stairs when a very friendly voice said, “Well, Lady Elfreda, have you begun yet to study your part?”
The author of “The Lady of Laxton,” who was one of the main causes of the mischief, although both were far from suspecting the fact, came alongside her in the middle of the stairs.
“No, I haven’t begun yet,” said Girlie in a voice she could not recognize as belonging to herself.
Sir Toby was rather taken aback by the confession. The time was short and the part of the little governess was decidedly a long one. Casual to say the least. So like these amateurs!
“We begin rehearsals to-morrow,” said the author gently.
That was not a moment, however, for the Deputy-daughter of the Marquis of Carabbas to think of rehearsals. She was within twenty yards of the drawing room. Would she be able to enter it?
Yes, decidedly casual and inclined to be stand-off, thought Sir Toby. He hoped the little idiot had not had her head turned already by success. Sir Toby glanced at her sideways, fully and expertly taking her in without any suggestion that he was doing so. Nailingly pretty, by gad! If her acting was up to her looks they would have asuccès fouon Tuesday week. Quite a stepper in her way, but apparently very shy. No doubt she would improve on acquaintance.
Sir Toby’s survey of the little Puss was so eminently satisfactory that he had no qualms at all about entering the drawing room with her. Girlie had many, however, about entering it with him. Still it would be easier than going in by oneself. She nerved herself for the severest ordeal of her life. And yet, after all, it proved quite a simple matter.
“Interesting sight,” proclaimed a bold looking woman in pink with a marble and platinum voice assoon as she appeared in the room with Sir Toby. “Behold the author and the leading lady.”
In almost the same moment the yellow chrysanthemum lady who was looking magnificent in black satin swooped upon her. “Now I must make you known to everybody. The plain but pompous looking, rather overdressed man standing over there with his hands in his pockets, is my husband. Let me introduce you.”
The gentleman in question bowed to Lady Elfreda who found the presence of mind to offer her hand. And then as the host, one Richard Minever by name, a rich and rollicking M. P., took the hand of the little lady, he grinned at his wife and said, “Confound your impudence, Kate.”
“This is he with whom you will have to go in,” said the hostess coolly. “I am very sorry for you but I am afraid it can’t be helped. But you will have some one really nice the other side of you. Let me introduce Lord Duckingfield.”
Lord Duckingfield was a large man of forty-five with a face that was by no means unattractive. He was full of geniality and charmingly simple and natural; his air as he heartily shook Girlie’s hand was that of a father towards her.
“I often see your papa at our Board meetings,” said Lord Duckingfield. “He says you are quite the clever one of the family.” And as his lordship caught little Miss Grey Eyes broadside on, he felt temptedto add although he refrained from doing so, “He might also have said you were the pretty one.”
They went in to dinner almost at once, the host offering a paternal arm to Lady Elfreda and showing the way. The party was not uncomfortably large. Mr. and Mrs. Minever, two tall and cheerful daughters, and half a dozen guests who were staying in the house. But there was an atmosphere of noisy good humor about it which was very welcome to Girlie. The banter and the repartee and the jovial give and take, which if not always in the best of taste, seemed vastly entertaining to every one concerned, all helped to provide a most fortunate cloak for the little lady who sat between the host and Lord Duckingfield.
She was really required to do very little beyond getting on with an excellent dinner. True, her private emotions hardly allowed her to do justice to the menu, but such slight attention was paid to her personally amid the general clamor that she was almost able to enjoy herself. All the same she was resolutely careful not to exceed one glass of champagne. The shrewd northern forebears simply would not hear of more than one glass. But in the one she had, there was magic. It seemed to open her heart to the luxurious play of civilized life around her. She knew it was a chimera that could not possibly last, at any moment the game might be up, but no matter what happened later, she would be a connoisseur in human experience who had lived one glorious hour.
Hoisted upon that high thought, Girlie removed her lips from the rim of her glass and sat up very straight. Yes, for that evening at any rate, she would live her hour; she really would be the daughter of a marquis even if she had to go to prison for it afterwards. Her late father, who had been a lawyer himself, always maintained that the law was the most uncertain thing in the world; so there really was a prospect of its coming to that. In the meantime, however, she would play up for all she was worth if only for the sake of the amazing new friend who had gone to The Laurels in her place, and who at this moment must be bitterly rueing the freak that had led her to forego this delightful meal.
Not only did Girlie sit up physically, she sat up mentally. Keeping her eyes and ears open, she began to take grave and particular notice! Somewhere in her mind floated vague fragments fromHints on Etiquette by a Member of the Aristocracy, and for that reason she boldly discarded her fish-knife, as she seemed to remember that the best people relied exclusively on forks for their fish whenever it was possible to do so. She noted, however, that neither of her neighbors seemed aware of that fact, and Mr. Minever and Lord Duckingfield went down a little in her esteem. But, after all, it merely cast one romantic light the more on the general situation. These people might be very amusing and very jolly and very rich, but even with their titles to help them they couldhardly be considered real Aristocrats. And it was because Lady Elfreda Catkin was an aristocrat to her finger tips that she chose darkness and eclipse rather than sully her proud soul by mixing with people who needed fish-knives to grapple with boiled turbot.
“We are expectin’ great things of you, Lady Elfreda.” The loud voiced little man opposite was addressing her personally. “They say you absolutely knocked ’em in Yorkshire. I hope you’ll like your part. It was written for you specially.”
“Why, Philpot, you’ve not seen Lady Elfreda act,” said the host in his rich, rollicking tactless way.
“’Tisn’t always necessary,” said the author of “The Lady of Laxton” stoutly, “to see a woman act in order to write a part for her. Sardou did it over and over again. So did Scribe. So has Pin I’m sure—and all of ’um.”
“Doesn’t sound very convincing, Sir Toby,” said the voice of the yellow chrysanthemum lady from the other end of the table, who like her husband could not claim that tact was her long suit. “But it’ll be all right on the night no doubt. By the wayisthere any one here whohasseen Lady Elfreda act?”
Girlie held her breath. The pause which followed Mrs. Minever’s words seemed so painfully long, so intensely dramatic. Would it never end? A shiver crept along the spine of the Deputy. Beneath theeyes of the entire table she felt herself to be turning green.
“What?—No one!” said the hostess.
No one had apparently.
“That’s a bit of luck for you, Lady Elfreda,” said the host with his jovial air.
The whole table laughed. Girlie began to breathe again.
“But Lady Elfreda’s escape is only temporary,” the hostess announced. “To-morrow Mr. Montagu Jupp is coming. And he claims to have taught Lady Elfreda all the acting she knows.”