She and I Volume I Part 11

Horner thought he possessed a fine tenor voice: I didn't think so, especially on this evening!

But, no matter what these two asked her to do, she did. If _I_, however, requested any particular song, she said she did not believe she could manage it; her voice could not compa.s.s it; she had lent it out; or, she hadn't got it!

Was it not enough to provoke one? Wouldn't you have been affected by it?

In addition to Horner and Mawley, there was also an odious cousin of hers, called "Jack," or "Tom," or "Ned," or some other abominably familiar abbreviation, who hung over the piano stool, and said "Min, do this," and "Min, do that," in a way that drove me to frenzy.

I hate cousins! I don't see the necessity for them. I'm sure people can get along very well without their existence. I would do away with them to-morrow by act of Parliament, if I only had the power.

When everybody else who had a voice at all had exercised their vocal powers, Mrs Clyde at last asked me to sing.

Instead of declining, as I would have done at any other time, on account of her slight, I bowed my acquiescence and went to the piano.

To tell you the truth, I was glad of the opportunity afforded me for carrying out a petty piece of revenge against Min, of which I had suddenly bethought me.

I had composed a little song, you must know, that I believed highly applicable to her at the moment, although when I had written it she was no more in my mind than Adam or Eve, or both!

I sang it, looking into her face the while, as she stood by the instrument; and these were the words. I gave them expression enough, you may be sure.

"My lady's eyes are soft and blue, deep-changing as the iris hue; _But, eyes deceive Hearts 'worn on sleeve,'

And make us oft their power rue_!

"Her little mouth--a 'sunny south'--wafts perfumed kisses to the wind; _But, winds blow cold, And kiss of old, A trait'rous symbol was, I find_!

"For pearly teeth and rosebud lips, whose honied wealth the zephyr sips, _But bait the lair Where fickle fair, Like Scylla, wreck men's stately s.h.i.+ps_--

"And witching eyes and plaintive sighs, and looks of love and tender words-- Love's tricking arts - _Are poison'd darts, More awesome far than pendant swords_!"

"Thank you," said Mrs Clyde; "it is very pretty. Your own, I suppose?"

"Yes," I said. I did not feel disposed to be more communicative.

"What do you call it?" asked Min, carelessly.

"'Per Contra,'" I answered. "Don't you think it a suitable t.i.tle?"

"Yes, _I understand_" she said. "Thank you, _Mr Lorton_!"

She spoke, with marked emphasis.

A little time afterwards, when I was sitting moodily in a corner, with a book before me which I was supposed to be looking at, but whose bare t.i.tle escapes my recollection, Min came to my side; and, she began overhauling some volumes of music that were piled up in a heap on the floor.

"Mr Lorton," she said, hesitatingly.

That "Mr Lorton" set my teeth on edge.

I made no reply.

"Frank!"

"Yes," I said, testily.

I felt very angry with her for her attentions to Horner and Mawley, and, as I thought, neglect of me; so, I wished to let her know it.

"Frank," she repeated, "didn't you mean that song at me?"

"Yes, I did," I replied, very grumpily.

"Foolish fellow!" she said; "what a very bad opinion you must have of me, although I did not know my eyes were blue before! You said the other night they were grey," and she smiled bewitchingly. But, I wouldn't be coaxed into good humour.

"Ce m'est egal," I answered coldly, "whatever they are."

"You are very cross!" she said pettishly; "I will go and talk to Mr Mawley, until you get into a better mood, sir, and are more amiable."

"I'm sure," said I, loftily, "that I would not be the means of depriving you of his valuable and entertaining society."

Min laughed provokingly. "At all events," she said, "he is not cross with me about nothing; and _some_ people might learn better manners from him, Mr Lorton!"

"Pray do not let me detain you from such a charming companion, Miss Clyde," I said, with distant politeness.

"Even poor Mr Horner can be agreeable and amusing, and _you_ won't even try to be. I will go to him," she continued, still striving to get me to be more sociable; but I was obstinate and ill-tempered.

An angel would not have pacified me. How could I have been so rude to her?

I was a brute.

"Ah," I exclaimed, "_his_ conversation is truly intellectual!"

She was quite vexed now.

"You are very unkind," she said. "You speak ill-naturedly of everybody, and are cross with me on my birthday! I won't speak to you, Frank, again this evening; there, see if I do!" and she turned away from me with a tremble in her voice, and an indignant look in the, now, flas.h.i.+ng, grey eyes.

She kept her promise.

Much as I tried, when my ill-temper had subsided, to get speech with her, I was not allowed a word. Even when leaving the house, I only received a bow. She would not shake hands, to show that I was forgiven.

I had stopped to the very last in order to sit out Horner. _He_ would not budge first, and _I_ would not budge first; so now we started off together, our homeward routes being identical.

You may imagine that I felt very amicably disposed towards him. I was ripe for a quarrel, or at least a separation; and Horner soon gave me an opening.

He began to praise Min's looks and voice, and the manner in which she had sung the songs _he_ had asked her for, including the one _he_ had given her that evening.

Really, the cool impudence of Horner was something astounding! What right had he to criticise her? He spoke just as if she belonged to him, I a.s.sure you!

This was too much, after what I had already gone through.

"Which way are you going?" I asked him suddenly.

"Gaw-ing?" he said, in a surprised tone. "Why, stwaight on, of cawse-- stwaight on!"