XXX
WhileMr. Jupp so nobly held the breach, a doctor was summoned from the audience to attend Lady Elfreda. On his advice she was sent home at once to bed in the care of her maid. She was so overwrought that the doctor, fearing serious consequences, followed her to Clavering Park, stopping on the way at a chemist’s in the town to procure a bromide.
Lord Duckingfield, a much embarrassed witness of the play’s fiasco, had already come to the conclusion even before the ignominious descent of the curtain at the end of Act I, that Lady Elfreda had been driven too hard by the strain of perpetual rehearsal and that she had been induced to undertake a rôle beyond her powers. He had now an anxious consultation with Mrs. Minever as to what ought to be done. Both were so genuinely concerned that it was decided to telegraph to Lady Elfreda’s father and ask him to come at once to Clavering Park.
He was usually to be found in London at the Old Buck House Club. There a telegram was sent after a judicious formula had been decided upon so as not to alarm the paternal feelings of Lord Carabbas unduly.
The yellow chrysanthemum lady, who was really the soul of kindness, did not wait for the end of the performance,but accompanied by Lord Duckingfield she took a taxi as far as the post-office and personally dispatched the fateful telegram. Then, deeply anxious for Lady Elfreda’s welfare, they went on together to Clavering Park.
By the time Mrs. Minever reached home, Girlie, much soothed by the ministrations of the doctor, had been put to bed. Here, in as much comfort as a bad and thoroughly alarmed conscience would permit, she was found with the grim and scandalized Pikey sitting by her side.
“How are you, my dear?” said the hostess, kindly.
The invalid, although still looking very white and strained, said feebly that she was feeling much better.
“I am so glad.” Mrs. Minever took the hand of the sufferer gently within her own. “The whole thing has been a little too much for you, I’m afraid. You must keep very quiet for a day or two, and the doctor says you must not think of going to Mrs. Lancelot’s, at least not until the end of the week.”
Girlie’s deep sigh expressed acute relief. With a feeling that was almost content she closed her eyes. In the next moment, however, she had opened them again in horror.
“The doctor says you must stay in bed—at any rate until your father comes.”
“My father!” Girlie’s gasp had a thrill in it.
“Yes, my dear.” The voice of Mrs. Minever was very gentle. “Lord Duckingfield and I have just telegraphedto Lord Carabbas. We have told him not to be alarmed, but we have begged him to come down here to-night, if he can, or by the first train to-morrow.”
It was as much as ever Girlie could do to repress a groan. But this fortitude was beyond the panic-stricken Pikey, who was following closely every word of the conversation. She walked to the window in a state of terror. At that moment she hardly knew how to keep from throwing herself out of it.
The hostess strictly enjoined the patient to get some sound and refreshing sleep and not to worry about anything, and then she left the room. As the kind lady withdrew she little guessed the scene of desolation upon which she softly closed the door. The Deputy and the duenna were left frozen with horror. They looked at one another in tragic dismay.
In the end it was left to the unfortunate Pikey to break the silence.
“Himself!” she gasped. Putting her hands before her eyes she began to shake miserably.
It needed only this show of impotence to re-awaken Girlie’s latent hysteria. Tears began to flow down her white cheeks once again. A longing to kill her came upon the Werewolf.
In a little while, however, Girlie grew calmer. She was able to make a supreme effort for self-control. And, caught in the toils if ever human creature was, she was even nerved to a little constructive thinking.
“L-Lady Elfreda m-must know at once.”
Pikey remained mute and rigid as a stone.
“You m-must go to her and tell her that her f-father is c-coming.”
Far from Pikey’s intention though it might be to accept dictation from Miss No-Class she could yet judge that the proposal was not lacking in practical wisdom. Still she did not relish turning out on a winter’s evening on such an errand. But desperate diseases call for desperate remedies. After all, it was the only thing to be done. Elfreda was the key of the situation. And the sooner Elfreda understood what the situation now was the better for all concerned.
Finally, and with great reluctance, Pikey consented to set out for The Laurels immediately. She was really persuaded to do so less by the forlorn entreaties of the Deputy than by the hard logic of events. Weakly and foolishly false to her trust, Pikey felt that she had perhaps stronger reason than any one else to fear the coming of Himself.