The Daughters of a Genius Part 19

All four girls were in the room, but it was to Philippa that he addressed the question; he had a way of looking at her when he spoke, of which the girl herself was gratefully conscious. Theo and Madge--even Hope herself--had a way of treating her with affectionate patronage as a dear, kind, preoccupied Martha who could not be expected to understand their higher flights. She had suffered beneath this treatment, and was delighted that these fledglings should now see in what estimation she was held by a scholar of repute.

"You are the _kindest_ man I ever met. There is no one else among our friends who would jeopardise his digestion by eating tough steak day after day in the hope of doing us a service," she cried, deftly evading a direct answer, which, if honest, must needs have been in the affirmative. Theo's hand advanced cautiously and gave a meaning pressure to Madge's elbow. Madge stared into s.p.a.ce, with wooden stolidity of feature. Hope looked wistfully from Philippa to the hermit, from the Hermit back to Philippa once more.

Then suddenly came the sound of the electric bell, followed by a silence of expectation. It might portend a letter or a telegram. It might be even Barney himself!

Mary opened the door, and some one entered the tiny pa.s.sage to an accompaniment of gasps and groans and rustlings of silken skirts; the air became laden with scent, and a second after Minnie Caldecott staggered into the room and sank down on the nearest chair.

"Where is your lift? You horrible girls, what do you mean by not having a lift? I'm _dead_!" she announced tragically, fanning herself with the ends of a chiffon boa, and puffing and blowing in quite an alarming fas.h.i.+on, until, suddenly catching sight of the Hermit at the other end of the room, she sat up straight in her chair and recovered her breath with remarkable celerity.

The Charrington girls had never before seen the fair Minnie in the presence of a member of the opposite s.e.x, and the scene which followed filled them with delighted amus.e.m.e.nt. The lady elaborately prepared herself for the fray, set her hat at a more becoming angle, pulled out the little curls under the veil, and while ostensibly addressing herself to her friends, sent fascinating glances across the room with her big blue eyes. The man hunched his shoulders, screwed up his brows, and looked helplessly miserable and ill at ease. He would have given the world to escape, but the buxom figure barred the way, and he lacked the courage to pa.s.s by. There was nothing for it but to sit still until she chose to depart.

"Well, I'm thankful I have found you at home after that climb. You must think twice before you go out, when you live in a bird's nest like this.

I nearly turned back, but I wanted particularly to see you about some business." She caught Hope's eager glance, and shook her head in reply.

"Nothing for you, dear. No more songs just now. I say! you _are_ white. What's the matter? Have you been ill?"

"Not ill exactly. We have had an anxious time lately."

Hope could not bring herself to speak of Barney to Minnie Caldecott, and her cheeks grew pink even as she spoke, for she knew that she was using the boy's disappearance as a cloak behind which to hide the real trouble which was sapping her strength. Miss Caldecott nodded her head, however, as though she understood all about the matter, and said cheerfully:

"Still trying to make your fortune! Better give it up, my dear, and follow my example: I'm going to be married." She threw a deprecatory glance at the Hermit, as though condoling with him on his own late arrival on the scene. "Told you I should come to that before long!

Fact is, the public is getting tired of me and running after newer singers, and I must do something to improve my position, so the day is fixed for the third week in January; and on the fifteenth of December Minnie Caldecott gives a grand farewell concert, when all her friends in the profession will give their services for her benefit."

"How kind of them!" said Hope. "I hope you will be very happy. But are you really going to retire so soon? Your voice is so fresh still--you are so young--"

The bride-elect laughed her large, hearty laugh. "How old should you think I was!" she inquired; and this time she addressed the Hermit in such a marked manner that he could not choose but reply. He looked annoyed, however, and the pedantic manner was at its height as he said shortly, "I am afraid I must confess that I have not thought about the subject at all."

"Think now!" said Minnie, staring at him with her wide blue eyes. She was like a big baby, Madge reflected--a huge wax doll--just as smooth and pink-and-white and chubby--just as vacant and soulless in expression. "Out with it! Don't be afraid," she cried; and the Hermit, thus goaded, ventured a leap in the dark:

"I should say somewhere about thirty."

Miss Caldecott turned a horrified face towards her friends.

"Well, _he_ doesn't know how to pay compliments.--Thirty, indeed! I'm only twenty-nine, and in the profession we always knock off at least five years. No, I am not going to retire. I know a trick worth two of that. A few months later there will be another concert--'first appearance since her marriage'--and a year or two after that a second farewell; but I want to make a big splash with this first one, and it occurred to me the other day that you might help me." Her eyes wandered round the room until they rested on Madge's thin face. "You are the one I want. You designed that swell leaflet for your sister's entertainment. Don't you think it would be a good chance for you to do one for me now?"

Madge looked at her quizzically. The Charringtons had learned by this time that, in spite of her beaming good-nature, Miss Caldecott was a keen business woman, and that in dealing with her it was necessary to look well after one's own interests.

"I am not certain that I can undertake any fresh orders just now; I am so busy with my advertis.e.m.e.nts," Madge replied grandiloquently, glancing at the table in the window on which lay the roll of the nursery frieze, now approaching completion.

As she had expected, Miss Caldecott insisted upon seeing it, and went into raptures over a spirited rendering of "Hi Diddle, Diddle." The cat was evidently of Ches.h.i.+re origin, to judge from its bland and benign expression; the cow was in the act of drawing itself together for the fateful leap, while the moon rolled apprehensive eyes towards it, and the little dog clasped its fore-legs over its heart in an ecstasy of amus.e.m.e.nt. In the distance a gentlemanly-looking dish was dragging a swooning spoon in its wake. It was very funny, very clever, very original; for Madge, like Theo, had been working at high pressure, and had been inspired to do her best in the hope of paying off a part at least of Barney's debts, and thereby giving a sop to her troubled conscience.

"I am not quite sure who shall have it, Mason's or Fearing's," she said languidly, mentioning the two largest West End furnishers, in reply to Miss Caldecott's inquiry as to the destination of the design. "It depends, of course, upon which makes the highest offer."

She turned her head cautiously to grimace at her sisters, and beheld the Hermit wreathed in smiles, nodding encouragement, waving his hand as if imploring her to keep it up. His delight, contrasted with the baffled expression on Minnie's chubby face, proved almost too much, for Madge's composure, but she busied herself with covering up the sketches, and presently returned to her seat, and smiled with bland patronage upon her visitor.

"And now--er--about this concert!"

"Herman is going to sing, and Marie Ross, and--" Miss Caldecott reeled off the names of half-a-dozen well-known artistes, checking them on her fingers with an air of triumph. "They are all _giving_ their services.

My dear, it would be the finest advertis.e.m.e.nt you could have. Make up something original and striking in the way of a programme, and they will all be eating out their hearts with jealousy. You don't know what we are in the profession, but I do. And you may take it from me that every one of them will determine on the spot that she will have something even better when it comes to her turn. You will have your name printed in the corner. I will crack you up as the coming artist, and they will all be running after you, and giving you more commissions than you can take--"

"On the same terms?" queried Madge blandly. "Because if so, I hardly see where the artist comes in. There must be reciprocity in these things, Miss Caldecott. I cannot work for nothing. Now, for instance, if you were going to sing Hope's song--"

Miss Caldecott looked shocked at the suggestion.

"My dear girl, it's impossible. I'm booming three songs for publishers just now, and get half-a-guinea apiece every time I sing them. That is what Hope should do: get some firm to push her things, and pay for having them sung. She will never make a name until she does."

"Just so; but as she is young and unknown, they don't feel inclined to help her. It would help matters considerably if you would give 'The Song of Sleep' at your concert. You might possibly lose ten-and-sixpence, but, on the other hand, my charge for an ill.u.s.trated programme is five guineas! You would have the best of the bargain."

In the silence which followed the Hermit's chuckle of delight was distinctly audible. Minnie looked at him sharply, nodded her head as if in sympathy with his enjoyment, and cried laughingly:

"_She'll_ get on! No fear for her! Knows how to look after herself, and her sister too. Very well, then, it shall be an encore; but you must do your best for me, mind--something very fetching. If you could give a hint of a wedding it would be a good idea. I don't want the audience to think I am retiring through old age. Thirty, indeed!" and she threw an indignant glance at the Hermit, the while Madge laughed, and suggested:

"Wedding-bells, and a wreath of orange-blossoms as a bordering?"

"Yes, yes! Just the thing! Bring the sketch to show me, and we can consult about it together, for I really can't manage these stairs again.

I'm so pleased it's all settled?"

She rose as she spoke, and prepared to take her leave, but as she did so her eye fell on the row of photographs on the chimneypiece, and she walked forward to examine them in her usual free-and-easy fas.h.i.+on.

"Family pictures! There is Hope--not half pretty enough, though. That was your father, I suppose. So clever, wasn't he! By the way, how is that young brother of yours getting on?"

If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof, the occupants of the room could hardly have been more startled than by this simple question. This was Miss Caldecott's first visit to the flat; Barney's name had never been mentioned in her presence; how, then, did she come to know of his existence? The shadow which had been pushed aside for a few minutes now returned more heavily than ever, and the pale, tense faces of the four girls startled the innocent questioner.

"What is the matter? What have I said? Nothing to worry you, have I?"

"We are in trouble about our brother, Miss Caldecott. He has-- disappeared," said Philippa, resting both hands on the back of a chair to hide their trembling. "Do you mind telling us how you came to know him?"

"But I don't know him; only heard his name casually from a friend.

Handsome boy, isn't he?--musical--sings comic songs and dances break-downs--up to all sorts of fun?"

"Yes, yes!" cried the sisters in concert, and the Hermit drew near, forgetting his embarra.s.sment in his anxiety to hear what might be told.

The five pairs of eyes were fixed hungrily on the silly, pretty face, and even as they looked they saw it change, soften into sympathy, and grow sweet and earnest and womanly.

"And he has run away, has he? And you are sitting at home waiting for him, and breaking your hearts. Poor little girls! Wouldn't it be lovely if I helped you to find him, after all? Now, I'll tell you all I know. I had some friends in the other night, and one of the men was turning over my songs and found 'The Song of Sleep.' We laughed about it a good deal, for I told him it was half my own composition. He noticed the name--Hope Charrington--and said he knew a young fellow of that name; who was one of the most amusing boys he had ever met, and could sing a rattling comic song. He is musical, this man I am speaking of, and is fond of having little singsongs at his rooms. I asked one or two questions, found out that it must be your brother, and told Jim I would warn you that he was not a fit companion for a lad. Oh, I was only in fun; there's no real harm in Jim, but he is in rather a fast, betting set, and I have a young brother of my own. I know how I should feel about it I determined to give you a hint next time we met, and I _did_ remember, didn't I? I am so glad I didn't forget!"

The look of elation which accompanied the last words brought a smile to Hope's face. She had reason to know Miss Caldecott's powers of forgetting, and it argued a wonderful amount of interest that she should have, remembered Barney in the midst of the exciting preparations for her benefit concert. She slipped her hand through the plump arm and pressed it gently, while Philippa asked half-a-dozen breathless questions.

"How long ago was that? Have you heard nothing since? Where had he met Barney? Is he in an insurance office?"

"Insurance? No, that is not it. He has quite a good berth somewhere-- s.h.i.+pping office, I think. Their s.h.i.+ps go out to the Cape."

She drew her breath sharply as she finished her sentence, and, to judge by the startled look which went round, the same thought had flashed through every mind. s.h.i.+pping! s.h.i.+ps that went out to the Cape! What better means by which to frustrate the most diligent search? Barney had always had a craving for the sea, and if this unknown "Jim" had influence in his office, and felt himself even indirectly responsible for the trouble in which the boy found himself, what more likely than that he would help him to a fresh start?

"I shouldn't wonder one bit if that is the explanation," cried Minnie triumphantly. "Two to one he has gone off in one of their boats; and a very good thing if he has. Nothing knocks the nonsense out of a boy like a good long voyage. He'll be so thankful to get back that he will settle down to anything you like to mention. Got into trouble, I suppose, before he went? Nothing serious, I hope."

She had shown herself so kind and sympathetic that Philippa could not refuse to reply, and Minnie listened to the story of Barney's debts with indulgent sympathy.

"And so he ran away from them. Just what I have longed to do myself a dozen times over. Now, you will want to see Jim, and hear what he has to say. I shall be pa.s.sing near his lodgings on my way home, and if Mr--er--Neil, isn't it?--likes to come with me, we might interview him together. He gets home by half-past five, as a rule."