Betty Trevor Part 18

"Prim!" shouted Mrs Vanburgh. There is really no other word to express the outraged indignation of her tone. To hear her, one might have supposed it the greatest insult in the world to be accused of primness of demeanour. "You dare to sit there and call me names in my own house!

If I am prim, you had better go home and leave me. I wouldn't stay any longer, if I'm prim. I'm sorry I asked you, if I'm prim. If I'm prim, I wonder why you ever wanted to come. Prim, indeed! If it's prim to know what is correct and what is not, it's a pity you are not prim too!

If I'm prim, I won't give any party at all. You had better sit round the fire and knit stockings, and I'll read aloud _The Old Helmet_, as I'm so prim."

Christabel raised her hands to her ears in affected distraction.

"Stop her, somebody--stop her for pity's sake! When she is once wound up like this she will go on for hours! My dear, I crawl, I _grovel_ before you! You are _not_ prim! Nothing is further removed from your character. You are going to give us as many parties as we like."

"Humph!" said Mrs Vanburgh shortly. She was by no means appeased, and during the meal which followed e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of "Prim--prim, indeed!"

fell from her lips at intervals like so many minute-guns of indignation, while Christabel ate cakes and scones with undiminished zest, and smiled upon her with patronising indulgence.

In relating the history of the afternoon to Jill, later on, Betty declared that she herself had not spoken a single sentence the whole afternoon. She had exclaimed, "Really!" "Fancy!" "Goodness!" "How killing!" each about a hundred times over, had laughed and smiled, nodded her head and said "Yes" to a dozen propositions, had been unceasingly amused and interested, but had never been allowed a breathing s.p.a.ce in which to air her own opinions.

It had been finally decided that "a general frolic" should be held on the following Thursday evening, Christabel proposing, seconding, and triumphantly carrying the resolution that each guest should come prepared to entertain the company for a period of at least five minutes on end. The protesting groans and denials of her companions beat in vain against the rock of her decision. She smiled graciously upon them, and cried--

"Rubbish! Of _course_ you can! Sing, play, dance, recite, read aloud, tell a story, show some new tricks; there's no _end_ to the things to choose from, my deah! If you begin by protesting and excusing as you are doing now, there will be no time left. It will be too lovelay for _words_! A sit-down supper, Nan,--no light refreshments, please!--and, as a matter of precaution, as much furniture as possible moved out of the drawing-room. I can't think why you did not have a parquet floor!

People grow so selfish and inconsiderate when they are married.

_Piteous_, I call it!"

"Anything else?" queried Nan loftily. "Selfish, and inconsiderate, and prim, am I? Prim, indeed! I'll tell Gervase the moment he comes in what a wretched wife he has married! He'd never find it out for himself."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE PARTY.

"She may request as much as she likes; I'm not going! I wouldn't go if I were paid for it!" was Miles' ungallant comment upon receipt of Mrs Vanburgh's invitation; but before he had time to pen his refusal, Cynthia, in her new character of mentor, issued her regal decree that it should be turned into an acceptance. In vain he grumbled and protested; the silken chains never relaxed their hold.

"Hate parties! Senseless waste of time."

"It would be kind of you to help to make it more profitable."

"I've no parlour tricks--and don't see the fun of making a performing bear of myself among a lot of strangers."

"It would be bearish to refuse, and allow your sisters to go alone!

I've always longed for a brother to take me about. A nice man is always considerate to girls."

Miles grunted.

"If I did go, they wouldn't speak to me all the evening! I never know what to say to strangers. I should have to sit in a corner by myself.

There'll be a crowd of girls--you, and Betty, and Mrs Vanburgh's sisters, and who knows how many more?"

Cynthia bowed her head in stately salute.

"You would not be ungallant enough to insinuate that there could be too many! It will be your proud privilege to introduce a masculine element into the a.s.sembly."

"Humph!"

"It likewise appears probable to me that Mrs Vanburgh may know a few nice men besides yourself."

Betty would have said "boys," Cynthia knew better, and reaped her reward in Miles' wavering air.

"Couldn't entertain a party for one minute, let alone ten."

"We will go into partnership then, and do it together! Ten minutes instead of five. We'll be confederates, and show them tricks. I know a lovely one about telling the time from the position of a poker--no! How silly I am, I always give away the secret! You tell a _card_, not the hour. It's quite easy. You have an imaginary clock face on the hearthrug; twelve o'clock is the fire, and you lay the poker on the rug with the point on the number you want--one, two, three and so on, up to queen. For king, you simply hold it in your hand, which puzzles them more than ever."

"What about the suits?"

"Oh, that's quite easy. When the person outside comes in, he must notice first of all how his confederate is looking; to the left means hearts; to the right, diamonds; upwards, clubs; downward, spades. It's really a lovely trick. We'll rehea.r.s.e it, and I'm sure you must know many more."

"I know some balancing tips,--Georgia Magnet business. You might be the Magnetic Lady, and I'd be the showman."

"Oh, lovely, lovely! Could you teach me really? Could I lift up a table with two or three men sitting on it, like you see in the advertis.e.m.e.nts?" cried Cynthia fervently, and though Miles replied, "Rather not!" he condescended to state one or two less strenuous feats which she might safely accomplish, and even to put her through a preliminary drilling on the spot.

The battle was won! For the next week Mrs Vanburgh's party was the one subject of discussion with the Trevor sisters. Betty was agitated on the subject of her dress, and being denied a new sash, subsided into gloom for the s.p.a.ce of ten minutes, when with a sudden turn of the wheel a mental picture was presented of a ship ploughing across the seas, bearing a lonely emigrant to his difficult task, when it became, all of a sudden, contemptible beyond words to fret oneself about--a ribbon! As she herself had said, having once come face to face with tragedy, her eyes were opened to the petty nature of her own trials. She ironed and pressed, and viewing the shabby bows and insufficient ends, said bravely: "Who cares? It will be all the same in a hundred years!"

Jill wished to know exactly how late the party would be kept up, and if there was to be a sit-down supper. "I loathe 'light refreshments' like we have at breaks up. Bitter lemonade and sangwidges--who wants sangwidges? I like to sit down, and have courses, and stay as long as you like, and crackers, with things in them." When asked how she proposed to amuse the company when her turn came round, she shrugged her shoulders, and replied, "Haven't the faintest idea! Shall think of something, I suppose," in true Jill-like, happy-go-lucky fashion.

Pam sat glued to the window, and kept an unerring record of everything which entered the Vanburgh house for two days before the fray. Baskets from the fruiterer's, trays from the confectioner's; mysterious paper boxes from the Stores; flowers from the florist's; they were all registered in her accurate little brain, and described at length to her sisters.

"Couldn't you bring me back somefing nice?" she pleaded wistfully.

"Sweets--or a cracker--or a very pretty cake with icing on it?"--and though Betty proved adamant, Jill succ.u.mbed.

"What are pouches for if you can't carry things in them?" she demanded.

"My party body has a huge pouch. I'll bring you samples, Pam, and if there are enough, we'll share them together!"

When the great night arrived, Miles was decidedly short as to temper, but he looked so tall and imposing in his dress suit, that Cynthia's designation of "man" seemed nothing but his due. Like all male beings, he seemed to regard the behaviour of his tie and shirt front as the only things of importance in the universe, and so completely engrossed was he thereby that he had only an absent, "Oh, all right!" to return to Betty's anxious inquiries as to her own appearance.

They crossed the road together, three ungainly-looking figures in ulsters and snow-shoes, and were admitted to the Vanburgh hall, which was instinct with the air of festivity. Flowers everywhere, plants banked up in the background, attentive servants to wave you forward; more servants to greet you at the head of the staircase, to help you to unwrap in the bedroom, and make you feel ashamed that your tweed coat was not an opera mantle, like the charming specimens displayed on the bed!

In the drawing-room quite a number of guests were a.s.sembled, and Miles was relieved to discover that he was by no means the only member of his s.e.x. Betty's first shyness died away as Christabel smiled at her across the room, and patted the empty seat by her side with an inviting gesture. She looked very charming and imposing in her evening dress, but when Betty ventured to admire it she was informed that it was "A rag, my dear--a prehistoric _rag_!" and warned that at any moment the worn-out fabric might be expected to fly asunder, when "As you love me, fling yourself upon me, and _hurl_ me from the room! My entertainment comes on last of all. I arranged it so for a special reason,"

Christabel explained, with the _grande dame_ air which was one of her chief characteristics. "We are to draw lots for the rest, so that there shall be no favouritism."

Presently the lots were drawn, and who should draw number one but Jill, the casual and unprepared! Betty blushed for her, and felt a wild longing to creep beneath the grand piano, but Jill herself laughed, and went forward to seat herself on a chair facing the whole a.s.sembly with undisturbed composure.

Everyone stared at her, and she stared back, dropping her head on one side, and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her saucy nose with a transparent pretence of embarra.s.sment, which aroused the first laugh of the evening. Everybody was amused and interested, and ready to be pleased, so that the announcement, "I'm going to ask riddles!" instead of falling flat, as might have been expected, was received with quite a burst of applause.

And there she sat asking riddles--venerable old chestnuts for the most part, and the marvel of it was that it was a most lively performance, for the orthodox answers were mischievously replaced by newer and more amusing editions, and one person after another would cry, "That reminds me--do you know what is the difference," etcetera, etcetera, so that presently everyone was asking riddles and catches, and really good ones into the bargain, and it was only after fifteen minutes had elapsed that Jill retired from her post beneath a hurricane of applause. Happy Jill, it was her birthright to charm! It seemed impossible that she should ever do the wrong thing.

When it came to Betty's turn she played conscientiously through the Sonata Pathetique, with which she had been wrestling for two hours a day for the last month. That very morning she had played it over without a single fault, and really and truly the runs had sounded quite professional; but when your head throbs, and your cheeks burn, and your heart pounds, and your feet grow cold, and your fingers are hot, and stick together, and refuse to do what they are told, it is wonderful how differently things sound! Poor Sonata! It really _was_ rather pathetic, and it is to be feared that the audience was almost as much relieved as was Betty herself, when it came to an end.

The Magnetic Lady performance was a great success, Miles as showman being an agreeable surprise to his relations, for if he were not discursive, he was at least perfectly composed and business-like, and the poker trick and balancing feats were alike marvellous and perplexing.

Agatha recounted a story of a haunted castle, and of a ghost which was not a ghost at all, but simply a gentleman's bath-gown hung on a nail.

The plot was decidedly thin, but the audience found amus.e.m.e.nt in the quaint and truly Rendell-like phraseology in which it was presented, and in the lavish use of italics. Poor crushed Betty congratulated Agatha on her success, and Agatha rolled her eyes, and cried tragically--

"My dear--I nearly _expired_ with embarra.s.sment! I was _purple_ with agitation. As a candid friend, tell me truly--_has_ it spread to my nose?"

Somebody recited; someone sang a song; somebody introduced a new game; somebody showed card tricks; a budding artist took lightning portraits of host and hostess and a few of the leading guests, and presently supper was announced before Christabel had had time for her turn.