Hope shook her head with pathetic candour.

"No. My voice is not strong enough. I am a fair amateur, but most people can find friends to sing for them quite as well as I could do; and if they hire professionals at all, they want something better--a beautiful voice like Minnie Caldecott's, for instance. As you said yourself the day I arrived, it is a fastidious age, and mediocrity cannot hope for success."

"Did I say that? What a singularly unhappy remark! You must forgive it, please, because of course I had no idea what was in your mind. I don't think, however, that you ought to use the word 'mediocre.' It is more a question of appropriateness. Your voice may not be suited for big entertainments--and, to speak quite frankly, I can hardly imagine your facing such an ordeal--but surely there are quieter ways of setting to work. What about children, now--children's parties? My little nieces have a party every year, and it is a serious business to find a change from the everlasting conjurer and magic-lantern. Could you not find some songs which they would like to hear?"

He looked at her inquiringly, and Hope stood still in the middle of the lane and stared at him with kindling eyes. "_Children_!" she whispered beneath her breath--"_children_!"

It was the prettiest thing in the world to see the different emotions chase each other over the sweet face: surprise first, and puzzled questioning; then the gradual dawning of an idea, the flush of radiant triumph.

"Children's parties! Oh, what an idea! What a brilliant, brilliant ideal Mr Merrilies, how can I ever thank you? I don't know why I did not think of it myself, for it is the very thing I should love above all others; and I believe I could make it a success."

She turned and began to walk rapidly forward, waving her hands and unfolding her programme with characteristic Charrington enthusiasm.

"I know what I will do--I know exactly. I will tell them a story, and sing descriptive little songs at intervals. Theo shall write the words and share in the profits; and the songs shall be set to well-known airs, for children love what they know, and would enjoy joining in the choruses. Oh, it will be charming!--a new fairy tale introducing all the dear old characters--the Giant who lives alone in his Castle, and eats up every one who comes in his way. 'Fe-fo-fum!' that shall be his song--'Fe-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!' Can't you hear the deep chords in the ba.s.s? Then there must be the Prince, of course, and the most beautiful Princess that ever was seen--"

"With golden hair and dark-blue eyes," put in the listener, with a look in his eyes that pa.s.sed unnoticed by his excited companion.

"Yes, yes; and--and a wicked fairy who was not asked to the christening, and a good fairy who undid all her spells. Theo will bring them all in.

I will write to her this very night, for there is not a minute to be lost. I shall have no difficulty in setting the songs to music, and should not feel a sc.r.a.p nervous singing to children. Deal little souls!

What fun it will be watching their faces and hearing them join in the choruses! Oh, what a charming ideal! Do you really think any one would allow me to try?"

"I will give you your first engagement now, at this moment! My sister will be only too eager to secure you; and she will tell her friends of the new idea. I shall say that your fee is rather high, but that at all costs you must be engaged if she wishes the party to be a success. You must charge a good deal, you know, or people won't think half so much of you."

Hope looked at him with shy delight.

"Must I? I should like that. Mr Merrilies, I am so grateful to you that I don't know what to say. You have made me feel so happy. If I get on at all, it will be all your doing."

"It will be nothing of the kind. I simply mentioned the word children, and you pounced upon it and evolved the whole scheme. There is no grat.i.tude due to me," declared Ralph Merrilies st.u.r.dily.

At that moment voices broke upon the ear, and turning a corner, they saw the three remaining ladies of the party walking back to meet them.

Avice came forward to ask Mr Merrilies some question about the carriage, while Truda turned to Hope and studied her face with gloomy eyes.

"You look very jubilant. What is the matter with you to-day?"

"I've got an idea!"

"Goodness! Is that all? I've got hundreds." She fell a few steps behind the others, and added resentfully, "You have managed to keep him pretty well to yourself, at any rate. He hasn't spoken a word to me all day. I don't call that keeping your promise."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

p.r.i.c.kINGS OF CONSCIENCE.

Truda was very silent all the way home; in plain words, she sulked, and refused to give more than monosyllabic replies to Hope's gentle overtures. When the house was reached she pleaded headache--that convenient cloak for every feminine ill, from a heartache to had temper--and retired to her room for the remainder of the afternoon.

Hope went into the empty library and wrote a long letter home, telling all about her new plans, asking Theo's co-operation, and sending a list of certain points to which she wished special attention to be given.

She wrote with interest, it is true, but with none of the elation which she had known an hour earlier; for at the back of her mind lay a consciousness that something disagreeable lay before her--a painful situation to be faced so soon as leisure should be hers. When later on she sat before her bedroom fire, in the interval before dressing for dinner, she stared into the heart of the glowing coals and thrashed out the subject--quietly, sweetly, fairly, as her nature was.

Truda was annoyed, and considered that she had been unfairly treated, in that another had monopolised something to which she possessed a prior claim. After that first very candid statement she had naturally relied on the loyalty of the girl in whom she had confided, and although no actual promise had been given, that girl had also considered herself bound in honour. Had she kept faith? For the most part Hope could honestly answer in the affirmative, but looking back over the last few days, she acknowledged that she had been sufficiently "off guard" to allow herself to be monopolised without protest, and so had engrossed the lion's share of Ralph Merrilies' attention. _Without protest_! The blood rushed over Hope's face at the misleading sound of the words.

There had been no thought of protest--no wish for it--nothing but purest delight and satisfaction in being thus monopolised. So far from feeling any dismay, her heart had given a leap of triumph each time he had come to her side. What did this mean? Did it--could it possibly be falling in love? Was she beginning to care more for Ralph Merrilies than for any man whom she had known? She mentally placed the image of one masculine friend after the other beside this acquaintance of a week's standing, and lo! they were as nothing--their weal or woe touched her not at all, compared with the lightest interest of this comparative stranger. _Beginning_ to care! She cared already--cared with all her heart--cared more than she had even known it was possible to care.

Realising this, Hope grew frightened, and clasped trembling hands in her lap. What madness was it, what will-o'-the-wisp, for which she had bartered her peace? She, Hope Charrington, poor, insignificant, friendless, and he the owner of a fine estate, handsome, distinguished, influential, with the _entree_ into any society which he desired to affect, the world a playground over which to roam at will! With such a choice before him, such a stage on which to play his life, how was it possible that he could cast a thought in her direction? What attention he had paid her had been but that which a man would naturally show towards any girl who happened to be to him--for the time at least--the most interesting member of a house-party. Hope did not delude herself that Ralph had any penchant for the lively Truda, but since the two moved in the same circle, and had many opportunities of meeting, it was possible that in time to come he might return the girl's fancy; in any case she could not be the one to stand between them.

"I'll go home," decided Hope drearily. "My time is up on Tuesday, and though I know Avice will beg me to stay longer, this children's entertainment will be a good excuse for getting back to town. I'll keep out of his way as much as possible until I go, and forget all about him when I step into the train. Ten days! Only ten days! It must be easy enough to forget a little time like that. It would be cowardly to let ten days interfere with one's life."

She was very quiet that evening, very subdued all next day, and so much engrossed in helping her aunt that she was hardly seen by the rest of the guests until evening came round. That she had been missed was evident, but while the other men loudly regretted her absence, and plied her with tiresome questions as to its cause, Ralph was silent, watching her face with an anxious glance, and attending to her comfort with even more than his usual quietly un.o.btrusive care. Hope felt that he had divined a secret trouble, and she was sure of it the next morning after breakfast, when, Mrs Loftus having sent her into the library to write some notes, he suddenly remembered his own correspondence and followed her into the room. Hope would have settled down to work at once, but she could not be so ungracious as to refuse to help in his search for some mislaid articles, and in the middle of commonplaces another question was put, suddenly, briefly, but with an earnestness of manner which showed what was his real purpose in following her to the library.

"You are not yourself; something is troubling you. Have you had bad news?"

Hope fell back a pace and looked at him with startled eyes. Before his earnest scrutiny ordinary denials became impossible; she could answer nothing but the truth.

"Not bad news--no; but something troubles me a little. Please take no notice; it will pa.s.s away."

"Is it nothing in which I can help?"

A faint smile flitted across Hope's charming face, and she shook her golden head. "You are very kind, but--"

"If I can help at any time, in any way, will you give me the opportunity? Will you believe that nothing could possibly give me so much pleasure?"

He stepped towards her as he spoke; but even as he did so there came from without the sound of Truda's voice, loud and insistent, approaching nearer and nearer to the room. With a shiver of dismay, Hope realised that in another moment the door might be thrown open and a _tete-a-tete_ discovered, which, however innocent in reality, would certainly have a romantic appearance in the eyes of a beholder. She broke into a forced laugh and turned aside to seat herself at the desk.

"Oh, thank you! You _have_ helped me already by your charming suggestion about the children's entertainment. I have written to my sister, and hope to find the story ready when I get home."

Even to her own ears the reply sounded curt and ungracious, an obvious turning aside from the point at issue, and Ralph showed that he felt the same by saying no more, and leaving the room as soon as he had written a short note. It was painful to be obliged to appear ungracious, but painful things have to be done occasionally, and Hope longed for the day to arrive that would put an end to her suffering. Avice pleaded hard for an extension of her stay, and could only be pacified by the promise of a longer visit in spring, when the lodge rooms were to be furnished and the new scheme inaugurated by which she was to play the part of fairy G.o.dmother to less fortunate girls than herself. That was one good thing that seemed likely to arise from this visit, and it was some compensation to Hope to receive her cousin's affectionate embrace at parting, and to hear her say, "Goodbye, sweet Hope. Don't forget me among all your duties. We shall be in town again in a fortnight, and I sha'n't be content unless you come at least once a week to see me. You have done me lots of good. I'll try--I really will try--to think more of other people."

That sent Hope away with a thankful heart, and with courage to go through the farewells downstairs. Her new friends seemed sorry to say good-bye, but it was not a sorrow that would imperil their peace of mind. Truda had received a longed-for invitation to a country-house in the neighbourhood, and was in the highest of spirits, and Mr Merrilies was not present. Hope wondered if she were not to see him to say good-bye, but when she stepped out of the carriage on to the platform of the little station, a tall figure appeared within the threshold of the waiting-room, and Ralph Merrilies himself stepped forward to meet her.

"I thought I would walk home this way and see you off. Are you alone!

Will you come in here beside the fire or walk up and down?"

Hope glanced at the clock, found she had still five minutes to wait, and decided that it would be less embarra.s.sing to move about than to remain within the confines of that little room.

"I shall have to sit still for the next three hours, so I think I will walk about, please, if you don't mind. I hope you will have good sport this afternoon, and to-morrow at Benckley. Did Miss Bennett tell you she had received her invitation for next week? She is quite excited about it, for so many of Aunt Emma's guests seem to be going on there.

You are one of the number, aren't you?"

"I think not I left it indefinite, and I rather fancy I shall write to say that I must go home. I thought of leaving The Shanty to-morrow or Sat.u.r.day." He was silent for a moment, his eyes on the ground; then he said suddenly, "You will give me your address? I must have it for my sister, who will want to write to you about the date of her party."

"Yes, of course. Thank you so much for remembering. I have not a card in my purse, but our number is ten--Number 10 Whately Mansions."

"And may I--will you allow me to come to see you sometimes? I am often in town, and it would give me so much pleasure!"

He did not look at her as he spoke, and Hope was thankful that he did not see her flush of dismay. She had never antic.i.p.ated such a request, and was terrified by a suggestion that would make all her good resolutions of no effect. During every hour of the last three days she had congratulated herself that her time of probation was short, and that with her return home would come back peace and contentment. What prospect of recovery could there be, what chance of work well done, if the expectation of Ralph's coming was ever before her as the one great possibility of the day? And what would Truda say? The thought that she might perhaps be endangering Truda's happiness nerved her to boldness of speech.

"You are very kind, but we are business women, and our sitting-rooms are our work-rooms also. I fear we must deny ourselves the pleasure of visitors yet awhile."

She cost a hurried glance at the clock to see how many of the five minutes still remained. Only one! The porter was carrying her box to the farther end of the station, a group of rustics were strolling out of the ticket-office, and Mr Merrilies was saying quietly:

"Art is long. You find, as do all her disciples, that she demands undivided allegiance. I shall look forward to hearing the result of your labours. Here is your train. You would like the small bag in the carriage, wouldn't you?"