CHAPTER VII.

DIPLOMATIC f.a.n.n.y.

The audience filed slowly out of the theatre, discussing the unexpected and unprecedented climax with a certain hushed animation. Many of those who had been the noisiest veered round to the side of the unfortunate author, and were truly ashamed of themselves for so cruelly baiting a man who was down, while a few of the severest judges endeavoured unsuccessfully to stem the tide of sympathy which the novel speech had set flowing. "What have we to do with feelings?" they asked. "What have we to do with a man's private circ.u.mstances? We come here to pa.s.s a verdict, and we pa.s.s it. If it is favourable, the author gets the benefit of it; if unfavourable, he must bear the brunt." These stern ones, however, were in a decided minority, and failed to make converts; despite of which the general opinion was that this had been a first night upon which it was worth while to be present. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," was said by friends and foes.

This was not the kind of sentiment which animated Mrs. Lethbridge and her party; their hearts were filled with pity for Mr. Linton, and Aunt Leth experienced something like horror at the behaviour of the audience.

Her thoughts travelled to the humble home which the author had pictured, to the anxious wife and the sick child. Tears flooded her eyes, and she could scarcely see the beloved forms which pressed around her.

"The crush is over now," said Fred Cornwall; "we shall be able to get out in comfort."

At this moment Bob appeared, having made haste to dress and join his family, according to previous arrangement. He was in a fever of excitement, and full of the eventful night. "Everybody is talking of it behind the scenes," he said. "Such a thing has never occurred before, and there is no telling what will be the result. Opinions are divided.

Some of the actors say the dramatic critics are much too wide-awake to be taken in by such a trick; others say that after Mr. Linton's speech they can scarcely pitch into the piece." And then Bob added, rather proudly, "I did what _I_ could to save it."

"That you did," said f.a.n.n.y enthusiastically. "You acted beautifully.

Didn't the manager praise you?"

"Well, no," replied Bob; "but then he had so many other things to think of. At all events, my first appearance on the stage is not likely to be forgotten. It is a great night."

"A great night!" sighed Mrs. Lethbridge. "Mr. Linton has gone home, I suppose?"

"I don't know," said Bob. "Mr. Kiss is in a dreadful way about him. A few minutes after Mr. Linton ran out of the theatre Mr. Kiss ran after him; he changed his dress in no time, and as it was, he ran off with his 'make-up' on his face."

Mr. Lethbridge observed his wife's agitation and distress, and he beckoned Bob aside.

"Do you know where Mr. Linton lives?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Bob. "He sent me to his rooms one day, before rehearsal commenced, for an alteration in a scene he had left behind him."

He gave his father the address; they were now in the lobby of the theatre. Mr. Lethbridge told Bob to go for a couple of four-wheelers.

"I'll go with you," said Fred Cornwall, and then he turned to Mr.

Lethbridge. "Will not one cab do? We can all squeeze into it."

He was rather afraid that Mr. Lethbridge did not intend that he should accompany them home to Camden Town.

"No," said Mr. Lethbridge. "We must have two. You and Bob can see the girls home. My wife and I are going another way."

Fred looked at him, and understood. "Come along, Bob," he said.

Then Mr. Lethbridge turned to his wife: "You and I will go and see if we can do anything for Mrs. Linton. Bob has given me the address."

Mrs. Lethbridge pressed her husband's hand; she was deeply grateful, but it was no surprise to her that he had antic.i.p.ated and furthered the wish of her heart. Had he not done so on innumerable occasions in the course of their wedded life?

"May we come with you?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"No, my dear," said her father; "the fewer the better. We must do nothing that will look like impertinent intrusion. Your mother is an old woman, and may take the liberty. While she is with Mrs. Linton I shall remain outside in the street."

"My mother is not an old woman," said f.a.n.n.y, in tender reproof. "She is an angel of goodness, and so are you, papa."

Uncle Leth smiled rather sadly, but he had no time to contradict f.a.n.n.y, because there were Fred and Bob, with the announcement that the cabs were waiting.

"We shall get home as soon as possible," said Mr. Lethbridge, as he and his wife took their seats in their cab.

"We shall wait up for you," cried f.a.n.n.y. "Oh, dear!"

This e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n was caused by the sudden appearance of Jeremiah Pamflett. He had been in the theatre, in the pit, and had been all the night watching the private box occupied by the Lethbridge party. He had taken note of Fred Cornwall's attentions to Phoebe and of the young girl's blushes, and he had formed his conclusions. Once during the evening he had endeavoured to make his way to the private box; but as he had only a pit check to show, he was peremptorily sent back. His humour was malicious and sour, but some crumbs of comfort fell to his share through the failure of _A Heart of Gold_. Upon the success of the piece depended, he knew, the payment of the bill for three hundred pounds which Mr. Lethbridge had signed, and the prospect of selling up Phoebe's uncle, or of showing him mercy at Phoebe's intercession, was very gratifying to him. He felt that it strengthened his chances with the girl he intended should be his wife. "I will have her," he thought, "whether she likes it or not. Miser Farebrother is bound to me, and there shall be no backing out. He can't back out: I've got his signature to his written promise, and Mr. Lawyer may go to the devil.

I'll wring his heart! I'll wring all their hearts!" To such a nature as Jeremiah's this was an agreeable contemplation, and he revelled in it, setting every tender glance that pa.s.sed between Phoebe and Fred in the private box to the account which at no distant time he should commence to square up. It was a delight to him that _A Heart of Gold_ had failed.

He yelled in derision at the top of his voice when the curtain fell, and patted the breast of his coat exultantly, in the pocket of which Mr.

Lethbridge's acceptance was safely deposited. It was as good as a love-token to him; it gave him a.s.surance of success in his wooing. When the dramatic author finished his speech and had left the stage, Jeremiah tried to push through the mob in the pit; but, in his eagerness, it was his misfortune to hustle rather roughly a peppery individual, who straightway pitched into him. A row ensued, and a fight, which left Jeremiah with a black eye and clothes much disordered. This had delayed his progress considerably, and his confusion of mind did not help him.

All this, of course, went down on the account between him and Phoebe and her friends, and was debited against them. Clear of the theatre he had hunted for them in every direction but the right one, and it was only when they were getting into the cabs that he discovered them.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y.

"How d'ye do? how d'ye do?" cried Jeremiah, poking his head in through the open window. "Stop a minute, cabby; friends of mine. Must first shake hands with father and mother. Ah, Mr. Lethbridge, how are you?

Glorious fun, wasn't it? Saw you all in a private box; couldn't get at you. Beggar wouldn't let me pa.s.s. I say, Mrs. Lethbridge, why don't you invite me to come and see you? It would only be doing the polite.

Phoebe's father and me--why, we're almost partners!"

"We shall be very pleased," said Mrs. Lethbridge faintly.

"Of course you will. Thank you; I'll come. No occasion to give me the address; I know where you live. I say, Mr. Lethbridge, rather a crusher, isn't this, to our friends Kiss and Linton? Hope our little affair will be all right? You're in a hurry to be off, I see. Well, good-night! Look out for me soon. You might send me an invite, so that I may be sure of finding you at home. Phoebe will tell you where her father's office in London is; I'm always there. Did you pay for your private box?"

"Mr. Linton was good enough to send it to us," said Mr. Lethbridge.

"Was he? Might have been good enough to send _me_ an order, considering all things; but _I_ had to pay: left me out in the cold, the beggar did.

Never mind; I'll remember him for it. Well, good-night; so glad to see you! Don't forget the invitation."

He returned to the cab in which the young people were. Fred and f.a.n.n.y were for driving away before he came back, but Phoebe begged them not to do so, saying that Mr. Pamflett was her father's manager, and that it would make them both angry to slight him.

"Here I am again," said Jeremiah vivaciously; his remarks to Mr. and Mrs. Lethbridge had almost put him in good humour, "like a bad penny.

You look as if you'd just taken one, Mr. Cornwall; and you too, Miss Lethbridge. How do you do, Miss Phoebe?" He thrust his hand into the cab, and Phoebe was compelled to give him hers, which he pressed and retained, in huge enjoyment of Fred's wrathful glances. "How blooming you look! I saw your father to-day at Parksides; he told me you were on a visit to Camden Town. I have some business with him to-morrow. Shall I give him your love? But I dare say you will be at Parksides before I am.

You've no idea how I miss you when you're not there! A jolly night, hasn't it been? You seem rather fidgety, Miss Lethbridge."

"We want to get home," said f.a.n.n.y. "It costs money to keep the cab waiting."

"And I'm not worth it. What a pity you think so! But soon you'll think differently, perhaps--soon we'll surprise you, Miss Phoebe and I. Some people would say 'Miss Phoebe and me;' but I've been educated, and know how to speak properly, and how to behave properly. There isn't a lawyer in London can get ahead of me, and that we'll prove before long; won't we, Miss Phoebe? I must be going now. Thank you so much for your kind reception. It is more than kind: it is gracious and condescending.

Who pays for the cab? But what a question to ask! Of course the swell of the party. I'm glad I've cost him nothing. Let a lawyer alone for knowing what's what. The cab regulations say, 'For the first fifteen minutes completed, 6_d_.' And I've detained you"--he consulted his watch here--"just thirteen minutes and three-quarters, so the driver can't demand anything. Good-night all; happy dreams."

He went off chuckling, eminently satisfied with himself for the part he had played. He knew that he had left a sting behind.

Out of consideration for Phoebe, bearing in mind that her father and Jeremiah Pamflett were hand and glove, Fred Cornwall said nothing of that worthy young man to Phoebe. f.a.n.n.y, however, was boiling over, and she was not the kind of person to keep her opinions to herself.

"Oh!" she said, "I wish I was a man!"

"What for, Fan?" asked Bob.

"Just for one little half-hour a man," said f.a.n.n.y; "to go after that reptile, and give him what he deserves! He has got one black eye already; he should have two. I'd beat him to a jelly; I'd pull every hair out of his head; I'd--I'd--" She grew so indignant that she could not proceed.

"Shall I go and give him a thrashing?" asked Bob. He was not of a truculent nature, but his blood was roused.