Turquoise and Ruby. Meade L. T.

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СКАЧАТЬ – that was the first point she must assure herself of.

      “You are going to – yes – why don’t you speak?” enquired Mary.

      “Because I have something to say to you,” replied Penelope. “You all want very much to take the different parts of these heroines, don’t you?”

      “Why, of course – ”

      “And I shall be a most lovely Cleopatra,” said Susanna, in a gleeful tone. “I see myself in the dress, and mother will be delighted!”

      She laughed: and her jet-black eyes twinkled merrily.

      “Then you want to be Cleopatra?” said Penelope.

      “Of course I do.”

      “And you, Mary, you want to be Jephtha’s daughter?”

      “Yes – of course.”

      “And you,” she continued, turning to Cara, “you are equally desirous to be Iphigenia?”

      “Of course – of course,” replied Cara.

      To each girl Penelope put the same question in turn. She saw eagerness in their eyes and strong desire in their whole manner. They wished to show themselves off. They wanted to appear in the wonderful dresses – to attract the attention of the crowd of spectators, to be petted and made much of afterwards by their fathers and mothers and relations generally. In short, that moment of their lives would be a golden one. Penelope remarked these feelings, which shone out of each pair of eyes, with intense satisfaction.

      “But you could,” she said, after a pause, “take the parts in some other tableaux. There are heaps of tableaux in English history and in the plays of Shakespeare. There’s the ‘Vicar of Wakefield,’ too. You could be one of his daughters – Olivia, for instance, and the other girl – I am sure I forget her name.”

      “No, no – no!” said Mary. “I will be nothing, if I am not Jephtha’s daughter.”

      “Very well. That is all I want to know. This, I take it, is the position.” She moved a little further into the shade of the wood as she spoke. “One might almost think one was back again in that wood where Tennyson himself seemed to wander when he had his dream,” she said, and her light blue eyes gave a curious glance – a flicker of feeling which did not often animate them.

      She was quite still for a minute. Then she said, gravely:

      “But the whole thing falls through, unless I am Helen of Troy?”

      “Yes – but you will be – of course you will be; dear, dear Penelope!” said Mary L’Estrange.

      “You never called me dear Penelope before,” remarked Penelope, turning round at that moment and addressing Mary.

      Mary had the grace to blush.

      “I never especially knew you until now,” she said, after an awkward pause.

      “And you know me now,” continued Penelope, who felt bitterness at that moment, “because you want to know me – because I can help you to fulfil a desire which, is very strong within you. Now, I wish to say quite plainly that I am in no way anxious to be Helen of Troy. Except by the mere accident of having a fair skin and light hair, I am as little like that beauty of ancient times as any one woman can be like another. I am in no sense an ideal Helen of Troy. Nevertheless, I know quite well that there is the rouge pot, and the eyes can be made to look darker, and the flash of the limelight may give animation to my face; and I can wear shoes with very high heels and come forward a little on the canvas of the picture. And so – all things considered – I may be made just presentable.”

      “As you will be – why, you will look quite beautiful,” said Cara.

      “And you ask me to do this for your sakes?”

      “Well, of course – and for your own, too.”

      This remark was made by Annie Leicester, who did not know why, but who felt certain that something very disagreeable was coming.

      “But, then, you see,” continued Penelope, “it is by no means my wish to take any part in this tableau and, in short, I positively refuse to have anything whatever to do with your Helen of Troy, unless you make it worth my while to become one of the heroines in the tableaux.” Penelope spoke very quietly now. Her whole soul was in her words. Was she not thinking of Brenda, and of what might happen to Brenda should she succeed, and of the golden life that might be Brenda’s were she to be clever enough to get these four stupid rich girls to accede to her request?

      “I will tell you quite plainly,” – she said – “there is no use beating about the bush. I want twenty pounds.” They all backed away from her in amazement.

      “I don’t want it for myself, but for another. There are four of you here most anxious to take part in the tableaux. It would be perfectly easy for you four to get five pounds each from your respective parents, and to give me the money. On the day when I get the money, or when I receive your promise that you will pay it me, I will do whatever is necessary for the perfection of Helen’s tableau, on the condition that you never breathe to a soul that I want that money, that on no future occasion do you bring it up to me, that you never blame me for having asked for it, nor enquire why I wanted it. For, girls, I, too, am ambitious, but not with your ambition; and I want just that sum of money, not to help myself, but another. For her sake, I will make a fool of myself on the day of the breaking-up, but I won’t do it for any other reason. You can let me know whether you can manage this or not before the evening, for I understand that you are going to give Mrs Hazlitt your decision then. If you say no – there is an end of the matter, and we are no worse off than we were. If you say yes – why, I will do my very best for you – that is all. Good-bye, girls, for the present. I am going to walk in the wood with some of the children; Mary, your sister amongst them. Think of me what you like; I trust you not to tell on me. Good-bye, for the present.”

      Penelope disappeared in her untidy linen dress with her old-fashioned blouse and, walking down the path, was soon lost to view. The girls she had left behind stared at each other without speaking.

      Chapter Four

      Agreed

      “If there ever was an extraordinary thing – ” began Mary.

      “Preposterous!” echoed Cara.

      “Impossible!” said Annie.

      “Five pounds, indeed, from me because she gets the very best part in the tableaux!” exclaimed Susanna. “Well, girls: this ought to settle us. We had best give up ‘A Dream of Fair Women’ on the spot.”

      Each girl looked at the other. Then, arm in arm, they began slowly to pace the wood.

      Give it up? That meant a good deal. For had not Cara written home about it and told her father and mother what a delightful and original part she was taking? And had not Mary L’Estrange delighted her mother with the story? that she was to be – she – Mary – Jephtha’s daughter? that noblest maid of ancient story. And had not Cara’s brothers and sisters and father and mother and grandfather and grandmother and great-grandfather and great-grandmother all been interested at the thought of the girl appearing as Iphigenia in the play? For the thing had been settled, and nobody for a single moment had supposed that the ideal Helen of Troy would refuse to take her part.

      Now, СКАЧАТЬ