Love's Shadow Part 36

'All right, come to see me next time in your Brixton-Viennese costume, and we'll have a long talk. I think you're pleased I've got a little trouble. Aren't you?'

'Oh, no--I don't want you to have trouble. But I should like you to own _he_ isn't so wonderful, after all.'

'But I don't own that--not in the least. The thing is, you see'--she waited a minute--'I believe I'm still jealous of Mrs Raymond.'

'But she isn't Mrs Raymond any more. You surely don't imagine that he flirts with his aunt?'

'Of course not--how absurd you are! That's a ridiculous way to put it.

No--he won't even see her.'

'Is that what you complain of?'

'His avoiding her shows he still thinks of her. It's a bad sign--isn't it? What I feel is, that he still puts her on a pedestal.'

'Well, that's all right. Let her stay there. Now, Hyacinth, when people know what they want--really _want_ something acutely and definitely--and don't get it, I can pity them. They're frustrated--scored off by fate, as it were; and even if it's good for them, I'm sorry. But when they _have_ got what they wanted, and then find fault and are not satisfied, I can't give them any sympathy at all. Who was it said there is no tragedy like not getting your wish--except getting it? You wanted Cecil Reeve. You've got him. How would you have felt if the other woman had got him instead?'

'You're right, Anne--I suppose. And yet--do you think he'll ever quite forget her?'

'Do you think, if you really tried hard, you could manage to find out what your grievance is, Hyacinth?'

'Yes.'

'Well, then, try; and when you've found it, just keep it. Don't part with it. A sentimental grievance is a resource--it's a consolation for all the prosaic miseries of life. Now I must go, or I shall be late for high tea.'

CHAPTER XXIX

The Ingrat.i.tude of Mitch.e.l.l

Since Bruce had had the amateur-theatrical trouble, he had forgotten to have any other illness. But he spent many, many half-hours walking up and down in front of the gla.s.s rehearsing his part--which consisted of the words, _'Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of Night! May a humble mandarin pet.i.tion for a dance?'_ He tried this in many different tones; sometimes serious and romantic, sometimes humorous, but in every case he was much pleased with his reading of the part and counted on a brilliant success.

One evening he had come home looking perturbed, and said he thought he had caught a chill. Eucalyptus, quinine, sal-volatile, and clinical thermometers were lavishly applied, and after dinner he said he was better, but did not feel sufficiently up to the mark to go through his part with Edith as usual, and was rather silent during the rest of the evening.

When he came down to breakfast the next morning, Edith said--

'Do you know Anne's come back?'

'Who's Anne?'

'Anne. Hyacinth's companion. Miss Yeo, I mean.'

'Come back from where?'

'Don't you remember about her going away--about her mysterious disappearance?'

'I seem to remember now. I suppose I had more important things to think about.'

'Well, at any rate, she _has_ come back--I've just had a letter--Hyacinth wants me to go out with her this afternoon and hear all about it. At four. I can, of course; it's the day you rehea.r.s.e, isn't it?'

Bruce waited a minute, then said--

'Curious thing, you _can't_ get our cook to make a hot omelette! And we've tried her again and again.'

'It _was_ a hot omelette, Bruce--very hot--about three-quarters of an hour ago. Shall I order another?'

'No--oh, no--pray don't--not for me. I haven't the time. I've got to work. You have rather a way, Edith, of keeping me talking. You seem to think I've nothing else to do, and it's serious that I should be punctual at the office. By the way--I shouldn't go out with Hyacinth today, if I were you--I'd rather you didn't.'

'Why not, Bruce?'

'Well, I may want you.'

'Then aren't you going to the Mitch.e.l.ls'?'

'The Mitch.e.l.ls'? No--I am certainly _not_ going to the Mitch.e.l.ls'--under the present circ.u.mstances.'

He threw down a piece of toast, got up, and stood with his back to the fire.

'How you can expect me to go to the Mitch.e.l.ls' again after their conduct is more than I can understand! Have you no pride, Edith?'

Edith looked bewildered.

'Has anything happened? What have the Mitch.e.l.ls done?' she asked.

'What have they done!' Bruce almost shouted. He then went and shut the door carefully and came back.

'Done! How do you think I've been treated by these Mitch.e.l.ls--by my friend Mitch.e.l.l--after slaving night and day at their infernal theatricals? I _have_ slaved, haven't I, Edith? Worked hard at my part?'

'Indeed you have, dear.'

'Well, you know the last rehearsal? I had got on particularly well. I told you so, didn't I? I played the little part with a certain amount of spirit, I think. I certainly threw a good deal of feeling and suppressed emotion, and also a tinge of humorous irony into my speech to Miss Vavasour. Of course, I know quite well it doesn't seem of any very great importance, but a lot hinges on that speech, and it isn't everyone who could make the very most of it, as I really believe I did. Well, I happened to be pointing out to Mitch.e.l.l, yesterday at the office, how much I had done for his play, and how much time and so forth I'd given up towards making the thing a success, then, what do you think he turned round and said? Oh, he is a brute!'

'I can't think!'

'He said, "Oh, by the way, Ottley, old chap, I was going to tell you there's been a change in the scheme. We've altered our plans a little, and I really don't think we shall need to trouble you after all. The fact is, I've decided to cut out the fancy ball altogether." And then people talk of grat.i.tude!'

'Oh, dear, Bruce, that does seem a pity!'

'Seems a pity? Is that all you've got to say! It's an outrage--a slight on _me_. It isn't treating me with proper deference. But it isn't that I care personally, except for the principle of the thing. For my own sake I'm only too pleased--delighted, relieved. It's for _their_ sake I'm so sorry. The whole thing is bound to be a failure now--not a chance of anything else. The fancy ball in the second act and my little scene with Miss Vavasour, especially, was the point of the play. As Mitch.e.l.l said at first, when he was asking me to play the part, it would have been _the_ attraction.'

'But why is he taking out the fancy ball?'

'He says they can't get enough people. Says they won't make fools of themselves and buy fancy dresses just to make one in a crowd and not be noticed--not even recognised. Says the large fancy ball for the coming of age of the hero in his ancestral halls would have consisted of one mandarin, one Queen of the Night, and a chap in a powdered wig. He thinks it wouldn't have been worth it.'

'Well, I am sorry! Still, couldn't you say your part just the same in an ordinary dress?'