"Creature!" exclaimed the duchess, at last."Oh, creature! This comes of asking them as friends.And I had a lovely string of pearls for her, worth far more than she would have been offered, professionally, for one song.And to fail at the last minute! Oh, CREATURE!""Dear aunt," said Jane, "if poor Madame Velma has a sudden attack of laryngitis, she could not possibly sing a note, even had the Queen commanded her.Her telegram is full of regrets.""Don't argue, Jane!" exclaimed the duchess, crossly."And don't drag in the Queen, who has nothing to do with my concert or Velma's throat.I do abominate irrelevance, and you know it! WHY must she have her what--do--you--call--it, just when she was coming to sing here? In my young days people never had these new-fangled complaints.I have no patience with all this appendicitis and what not--cutting people open at every possible excuse.In my young days we called it a good old-fashioned stomach-ache, and gave them Turkey rhubarb!"Myra Ingleby hid her face behind her garden hat; and Garth Dalmain whispered to Jane: "I do abominate irrelevance, and you know it!"But Jane shook her head at him, and refused to smile.
"Tommy wants a gooseberry!" shouted the macaw, having apparently noticed the mention of rhubarb.
"Oh, give it him, somebody!" said the worried duchess.
"Dear aunt," said Jane, "there are no gooseberries.""Don't argue, girl!" cried the duchess, furiously; and Garth, delighted, shook his head at Jane."When he says 'gooseberry,' he means anything GREEN, as you very well know!"Half a dozen people hastened to Tommy with lettuce, water-cress, and cucumber sandwiches; and Garth picked one blade of grass, and handed it to Jane; with an air of anxious solicitude; but Jane ignored it.
"No answer, Simmons," said the duchess."Why don't you go?...Oh, how that man waddles! Teach him to walk, somebody! Now the question is, What is to be done? Here is half the county coming to hear Velma, by my invitation; and Velma in London pretending to have appendicitis--no, I mean the other thing.Oh, 'drat the woman!' as that clever bird would say.""Hold your jaw!" shouted Tommy.The duchess smiled, and consented to sit down.
"But, dear Duchess," suggested Garth in his most soothing voice, "the county does not know Madame Velma was to be here.It was a profound secret.You were to trot her out at the end.Lady Ingleby called her your 'surprise packet.'"Myra came out from behind her garden hat, and the duchess nodded at her approvingly.
"Quite true," she said."That was the lovely part of it.Oh, creature!""But, dear Duchess," pursued Garth persuasively;."if the county did not know, the county will not be disappointed.They are coming to listen to one another, and to hear themselves, and to enjoy your claret-cup and ices.All this they will do, and go away delighted, saying how cleverly the dear duchess, discovers and exploits local talent.""Ah, ha!" said the duchess, with a gleam in the hawk eye, and a raising of the hooked nose-which Mrs.Parker Bangs of Chicago, who had met the duchess once or twice, described as "genuine Plantagenet"--"but they will go away wise in their own conceits, and satisfied with their own mediocre performances.My idea is to let them do it, and then show them how it should be done.""But Aunt 'Gina," said Jane, gently; "surely you forget that most of these people have been to town and heard plenty of good music, Madame Velma herself most likely, and all the great singers.They know they cannot sing like a prima donna; but they do their anxious best, because you ask them.I cannot see that they require an object lesson""Jane," said the duchess, "for the third time this afternoon I must request you not to argue.""Miss Champion," said Garth Dalmain, "if I were your grandmamma, Ishould send you to bed."
"What is to be done?" reiterated the duchess."She was to sing THEROSARY.I had set my heart on it.The whole decoration of the room is planned to suit that song--festoons of white roses; and a great red-cross at the back of the platform, made entirely of crimson ramblers.Jane!""Yes, aunt."
"Oh, don't say 'Yes, aunt,' in that senseless way! Can't you make some suggestion?""Drat the woman!" exclaimed Tommy, suddenly.
"Hark to that sweet bird!" cried the duchess, her good humour fully restored."Give him a strawberry, somebody.Now, Jane, what do you suggest?"Jane Champion was seated with her broad back half turned to her aunt, one knee crossed over the other, her large, capable hands clasped round it.She loosed her hands, turned slowly round, and looked into the keen eyes peering at her from under the mushroom hat.As she read the half-resentful, half-appealing demand in them, a slow smile dawned in her own.She waited a moment to make sure of the duchess's meaning, then said quietly: "I will sing THE ROSARYfor you, in Velma's place, to-night, if you really wish it, aunt."Had the gathering under the tree been a party of "mere people," it would have gasped.Had it been a "freak party," it would have been loud-voiced in its expressions of surprise.Being a "best party," it gave no outward sign; but a sense of blank astonishment, purely mental, was in the air.The duchess herself was the only person present who had heard Jane Champion sing.
"Have you the song?" asked her Grace of Meldrum, rising, and picking up her telegram and empty basket.
"I have," said Jane."I spent a few hours with Madame Blanche when Iwas in town last month; and she, who so rarely admires these modern songs, was immensely taken with it.She sang it, and allowed me to accompany her.We spent nearly an hour over it.I obtained a copy afterwards.""Good," said the duchess."Then I count on you.Now I must send a sympathetic telegram to that poor dear Velma, who will be fretting at having to fail us.So 'au revoir,' good people.Remember, we dine punctually at eight o'clock.Music is supposed to begin at nine.
