Roger Ingleton, Minor - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Jill had gallantly struck up her polka on the piano, but as no one listened and no one danced, she gave it up and returned to the support of her brother.
"It's going splendidly," said Tom in a stage whisper; "they all seem to be enjoying it."
They certainly were--for as each gradually took in the situation, and received his cue from his neighbour, an unwonted air of humour permeated the room.
A few hoity-toity persons of course felt outraged, and would have ordered their carriages had there been any one to order them from. The honest Raffles was, to tell the truth, secretly busy, on a signal from Tom, preparing for the banquet in the dining-room, and no other servant was to be seen.
"My dear," said Mrs Pottinger, in a severely audible voice to her husband, "I wish to return home. Will you get our carriage? My ideas of amus.e.m.e.nt do not correspond with those of the young people."
"Oh, don't go yet!" said Tom, with beaming face, for he had caught sight of Raffles' powdered wig at the door; "there's some grub ready in the next room. It would have been ready before, only the herrings--"
"Tom," said Jill, "there's the Bishop just come. He couldn't come for Roger's birthday, you know."
"How do you do, Bishop?" said Tom, grasping the new arrival by the hand.
"Jolly you could come this time. I was just saying there's some grub in the next room. Jill, Raff had better ring up on the gong, tell him."
Raffles accordingly sounded an alarm on the gong, which brought the company to attention.
"Supper!" cried Tom encouragingly, and led the way, allowing the company generally to sort themselves.
The Duke behaved n.o.bly that night. He gallantly gave his arm to Jill, and asked the Bishop to bring in one of his daughters. This saved Miss Oliphant's party from the collapse which threatened it. Every one took the cue from the great people. Even Mrs Pottinger accepted the arm of the curate, and the ardent youths, who had all arrived under the delusion that Miss Rosalind was the hostess, forgot their disappointment, and vowed to see the youngsters through with it.
"Oh, Duke!" said Jill, hanging affectionately on her n.o.ble escort's arm, "are you liking it? Do try and like it! It's Tom's and my first party, and we want it to be a jolly one."
"I never enjoyed a party half so much," said His Grace.
Jill thought him at that moment almost as nice as dear Mr Armstrong.
"Jill," said Tom, waylaying his sister at the door, "we might have cut the herrings in three after all. Never mind, some of them will be able to have two goes. I'll see you do. Good old Jilly. Isn't it going off prime? And you know, the fireworks are still to come!"
It was too severe a strain on the gravity of some of the guests when they beheld each his "go" of lukewarm herring, cocoa-nut, coffee-ice, and penny bun, with a single plate to accommodate the whole, on the board before him. But the laughter, if it reached the ears of the genial host and hostess, was taken by them as a symptom of delight, in which they heartily shared.
Tom, as he cast his eye down the festive board--object of so much solicitude and physical exertion--never felt happier in his life. More than half of the company would be able to get a second helping of fish and bun!
"Wire in," said he to his guests generally, and to the younger Lady Marigold, his next neighbour, in particular, "before it gets cold.
Awfully sorry the cocoa-nut milk wasn't enough to go round, so Jill and I thought--"
Here a guilty look from Jill pulled him up. Dear old Jilly, he wouldn't let out on her for worlds.
A good many eyes turned curiously to where the Duke sat with his "go"
before him. Those who were quick at observing details noticed that he had ranged his cocoa-nut and ice on the edge of his plate, and was beginning to attack his herring with every sign of relish. His portion consisted mostly of hard roe, for which he had no natural predilection, but this evening he seemed to enjoy it, helping it down with occasional bites at the bun, and keeping up a cheerful conversation the while.
The Bishop, too, who had a tail, was making a capital meal, as were also several other of the guests near him.
"Capital fis.h.!.+" said the Duke presently. Then beckoning to Raffles, "Can you get me a little more?"
"Yes, your grace."
Tom felt a little anxious lest Raffles should select from out of the surplus "goes" one of those with the heads which were to eke out in a last emergency. But when he saw that the duke's second helping consisted of a prime "waist" he rejoiced with all his heart.
"Isn't it nice?" asked Jill, who had been busily at work under the shadow of his ducal wing.
"My dear little lady, I never tasted such a meal in my life."
In due time the cocoa-nut and coffee-ice were attacked with quite as much relish as the first course; after which Tom, looking a little warm, rose and made a little speech.
"I hope you've all liked it," said he. "I was afraid there wouldn't be enough, but some of them didn't turn up, so it was all right after all.
Jill--that's my young sister here--cut the 'goes' up, and I don't know anybody more fair all round than her. She and I are awfully glad you came, and hope you'll have a good old time. Please don't tell the governor or Rosalind we gave this party. I beg to propose the health of my young sister--good old Jilly. She's a regular brick, and has backed up no end in this do. No heel-taps!"
A good many healths had been drunk in the county during the year, but few of them were more genuinely responded to than this. And no queen ever bore her honours more delightfully than the little heroine of the evening.
"I suppose we'd better cut into the next room now," suggested Tom, when this function was over. "There'll be some fireworks by and by; but any one who likes a hop meanwhile can have one. Jill knows a ripping piece to play."
The invitation was cordially responded to, and when, after sundry repet.i.tions of the "ripping" piece, the eldest Miss Marigold offered to play a waltz, and after her Miss Shafto relieved duty with a polka, and after her one of the ardent youths actually condescended to perform a set of quadrilles, in which His Grace the Duke, with Jill as his partner, led off _vis-a-vis_ with the Bishop and the sister of the member for the county, there was no room to doubt the glorious success of Miss Oliphant's party.
Tom meanwhile, joyous at heart, warm in temperature, and excited in mind, was groping on his knees on the damp gra.s.s outside the drawing- room window, fixing his two threepenny Roman candles in reversed flower pots, and planting his starlights, crackers, and Catherine-wheels in advantageous positions in the vicinity, casting now and again a delighted glance at the animated scene within, and wondering if he had ever spent a jollier evening anywhere.
It disturbed him to hear a vehicle rattle up the drive, and to argue therefrom that some belated guest had missed the feast. Never mind; he shouldn't be quite out of it.
"Raffles," called he, as he caught sight of that hardworking functionary through the dining-room window removing the _debris_ of the banquet, "leave a few 'goes' out on the table for any chaps who come late, and then go and tell Jill I'm ready, and turn down the gas in the drawing- room."
In due time Raffles delivered his momentous message.
"Oh, the fireworks!" cried Miss Jill, clapping her hands, "the fireworks are to begin. Aren't you glad, duke? Do get a good seat before the gas is turned down."
The company crowded into the big bay-window, and endured the extinction of the light with great good-humour. Indeed, a certain gentleman who entered the room at this particular juncture, seeing nothing, but hearing the laughter and talk, said to himself that this was as merry an occasion as it had been his lot to partic.i.p.ate in.
The dim form of Tom might be seen hovering without, armed with a bull's- eye lantern, at which he diligently kindling matches, which refused to stay in long enough to ignite the refractory fireworks.
"Never mind," said he to himself, "they'll like it when they do go off."
So they did. After a quarter of an hour's waiting one of the Roman candles went off with vast _eclat_, and after it two crackers simultaneously gave chase to the operator half-way round the lawn. One of the Catherine-wheels was also prevailed upon to give a few languid rotations on its axis, and some of the squibs, which had unfortunately got damp, condescended, after being inserted bodily into the lantern, to go off. Presently, however, the wind got into the lantern, and the matches being by this time exhausted, and the starlights refusing to depart from their usual abhorrence for spontaneous combustion, the judicious Tom deemed it prudent to p.r.o.nounce this part of the entertainment at an end.
"All over!" he shouted through the window. "Turn up the light."
When, after the applause which greeted this imposing display, the gas was turned up, the first sight which met Miss Jill's eyes was the form of Mr Robert Ratman, in travelling costume, nodding familiarly across the room.
At the sight the little lady's face blanched, and the joy of the evening vanished like smoke.
"Oh, Duke!" she exclaimed, clinging to her guest's arm, "do please turn that wicked man there out of the house. We didn't invite him, and he's no right, really. If dear Mr Armstrong was only here! Please put him out."
The duke looked a little blank at this appeal.
"Why, child, really? Who is he?" he asked.
"A wicked, bad man, that I hate; and I did think you would be kind enough to--"
"What is his name?"