A Mummer's Wife Part 22

'I can give you twenty pounds to fit yourself out. Do you think you could manage with that?'

'I'm afraid I'm putting you to a lot of expense, dear.'

'Not more than you're worth. You don't know what a pleasant time we shall have travellin' about; it's so tiresome bein' always alone. There's no society in these country towns, but I shan't want society now.'

'And do you think that you won't get tired of me? Will you never care again for any of these fine ladies?' and her brilliant eyes drew down d.i.c.k's lips, and when they entered a tunnel the temptation to repeat the kiss was great, but owing to Dubois's attempt to light matches it ended in failure.

d.i.c.k b.u.mped his head against the woodwork of the carriage; Kate felt she hated the little comedian, and before she recovered her temper the train began to slacken speed, and there were frequent calls for d.i.c.k from the windows of the different compartments.

'Is the railway company going to stand us treat this journey?' shouted Mortimer.

'Yes,' replied d.i.c.k, putting his head out, 'seven the last time and seven this; we should have more than a couple of quid.'

When the train stopped and a voice was heard crying, 'All tickets here!' he said to Dubois, Bret, and Montgomery, 'Now then, you fellows, cut off; get Mortimer and a few of the chorus-men to join you; we're seven short.'

As they ran away he continued to Leslie: 'I hope Hayes won't bungle it; he's got the tickets to-day.'

'You shouldn't have let him take them; you know he's always more or less drunk, and may answer forty-two.'

'I can't help it if he does; I'd something else to look after at Hanley.'

'Tickets!' said the guard.

'Our acting manager has them; he's in the end carriage.'

'You know I don't want anything said about it; Hayes and I are old pals; but it's a d.a.m.ned nuisance to have an acting manager who's always boozed. I have to look after everythin', even to making up the returns. But I must have a look and see how he's gettin' on with the guard,' said d.i.c.k, jumping up and putting his head out of the window.

After a moment or two he withdrew it and said hastily, 'By Jove! there's a row on. I must go and see what's up. I bet that fool has gone and done something.'

In a minute he had opened the carriage door and was hurrying down the platform.

'Oh, what's the matter?--do tell me,' said Kate to Miss Leslie. 'I hope he won't get into any trouble.'

'It's nothing at all. We never, you know, take the full number of tickets, for it is impossible for the guard to count us all; and besides, there are some members who always run down the platform; and in that way we save a good deal of coin, which is spent in drinks all round.' But guessing what was pa.s.sing in Kate's mind Leslie said: 'It isn't cheating. The company provides us with a carriage, and it is all the same to them if we travel five-and-thirty or forty-two.'

XII

The rest of the journey was accomplished monotonously, the conversation drifting into a discussion, in the course of which mention was made of actors, singers, theatre, prices of admission, 'make-ups,' stage management, and music. It was in Birmingham that Ashton, Leslie's understudy, sang the tenor's music instead of her own in the first act of the _Cloches_: and poor So-and-so, who was playing the Grenicheux--how he did look when he heard his B flat go off!

'Flat,' murmured Montgomery sorrowfully, 'isn't the word. I a.s.sure you it loosened every tooth in my head. I broke my stick trying to stop her, but it was no b.l.o.o.d.y good.'

Then explanations of how the different pieces had been produced in Paris were volunteered, and the talents of the different composers were discussed; and all held their sides and roared when Dubois, who, Kate began to perceive, was the company's laughingstock, declared that he thought Offenbach too polkaic.

At last the train rolled into Derby, and d.i.c.k asked a red pimply-faced man in a round hat if he had secured good places for his posters.

'Spiffing,' the man answered, and he saluted Leslie. 'But I couldn't get you the rooms. They're let; and, between ourselves, you'll 'ave a difficulty in finding what you want. This is cattle-show week. You'd better come on at once with me. I know an hotel that isn't bad, and you can have first choice--Beaumont's old rooms; but you must come at once.'

Kate was glad to see that Mr. Bill Williams, the agent in advance, did not remember her. She, however, recognized him at once as the man who had sent d.i.c.k to her house.

'Cattle-show week! All the rooms in the town let!' cried Leslie, who had overheard part of Mr. Williams's whisperings. 'Oh dear! I do hope that my rooms aren't let. I hate going to an hotel. Let me out; I must see about them at once. Here, Frank, take hold of this bag.'

'There's no use being in such a hurry; if the rooms are let they are let.

What's the name of the hotel you were speaking of, Williams?'

'I forget the name, but if you don't find lodgings, I'll leave you the address at the theatre,' said the agent in advance, winking at d.i.c.k.

'You're too d.a.m.ned clever, Williams; you'll be making somebody's fortune one of these days.'

Kate had some difficulty in keeping close to d.i.c.k, for he was surrounded the moment he stepped out on the platform. The baggage-man had a quant.i.ty of questions to ask him, and Hayes was desirous of re-explaining how the ticket-collector had happened to misunderstand him. Pulling his long whiskers, the acting manager walked about murmuring, 'Stupid fool! stupid darned fool!' And there were some twenty young women who pleaded in turn, their little hands laid on the arm of the popular fat man.

'Yes, dear; that's it,' he answered. 'I'll see to it to-morrow. I'll try not to put you in Miss Crawford's dressing-room, since you don't agree.'

'And, Mr. Lennox, you will see that I'm not shoved into the back row by Miss Dacre, won't you?'

'Yes, dear--yes, dear; I'll see to that too; but I must be off now; and you'd better see after lodgings; I hear that they are very scarce. If you aren't able to get any, come up to the Hen and Chickens; I hear they have rooms to let there. Poor little girls!' he murmured to Williams as they got into a cab. 'They only have twenty-five bob a week; one can't see them robbed by landladies who can let their rooms three times over.'

'Just as you like,' said Williams, 'but you'll have the hotel full of them.'

As they drove through the town d.i.c.k called attention to the animated appearance of the crowds, and Williams explained the advantages of the corners he had chosen; and at last the cab stopped at the inn, or rather before the archway of a stone pa.s.sage some four or five yards wide.

'There's no inn here!'

'Oh yes, there is, and a very nice inn too; the entrance is a little way up the pa.s.sage.'

It was an old-fashioned place--probably it had been a fashionable resort for sporting squires at the beginning of the century. The hall was wainscotted in yellow painted wood; on the right-hand side there was a large brown press, with gla.s.s doors, surmounted by a pair of buffalo horns; on the opposite wall hung a barometer; and the wide, slowly sloping staircase, with its low thick banisters, ascended in front of the street door. The apartments were not, however, furnished with archaeological correctness.

A wall-paper of an antique design contrasted with a modern tablecloth, and the sombre red curtains were ill suited to the plate-gla.s.s which had replaced the narrow windows of old time. d.i.c.k did not like the dust nor the tarnish, but no other bed and sitting-room being available, a bargain was soon struck, and the proprietor, after hoping that his guests would be comfortable, informed them that the rule of his house was that the street door was barred and locked at eleven o'clock, and would be reopened for no one.

He was a quiet man who kept an orderly house, and if people could not manage to be in before midnight he did not care for their custom. After grumbling a bit, d.i.c.k remembered that the pubs closed at eleven, and as he did not know anyone in the town there would be no temptation to stay out.

Williams, who had been attentively examining Kate, said that he was going down to the theatre, and asked if he should have the luggage sent up.

This was an inconvenient question, and as an explanation was impossible before the hotel-keeper, d.i.c.k was obliged to wish Kate good-bye for the present, and accompany Williams down to the theatre.

She took off her bonnet mechanically, threw it on the table, and, sitting down in an armchair by the window, let her thoughts drift to those at home.

Whatever doubt there might have been at first, they now knew that she had left them--and for ever.

The last three words cost her a sigh, but she was forced to admit them.

There could be no uncertainty now in Ralph's and his mother's mind that she had gone off with Mr. Lennox. Yes, she had eloped; there could be no question about the fact. She had done what she had so often read of in novels, but somehow it did not seem at all the same thing.

This was a startling discovery to make, but of the secret of her disappointment she was nearly unconscious; and rousing herself from the torpor into which she had fallen, she hoped d.i.c.k would not stop long away.

It was so tiresome waiting. But soon Miss Leslie came running upstairs.

'Dinner has been ordered for five o'clock, and we've made up a party of four--you, d.i.c.k, myself, and Frank.'