“Yes: I can quite imagine that. And so you came home and returned to the ways of well conducted girls.”
“Not at all. You have only heard the prologue to my real adventure. When we got to the railway station, father, who intended to preach at me during the whole journey, bribed the guard to prevent people from coming into our compartment. The train started, and I had just been requested to attend to something very that must be said to me, when there was an uproar on the platform, and a man burst headlong into the carriage, sat down, folded his arms, and stared majestically at father, who began to abuse him furiously for intruding on us. They quarreled all the way up to London. When they had exhausted the subject of our carriage being private, the man objected to the window being shut — I think because I had done so just before, though perhaps it was more from love of contradiction. Then father objected to his grinding his teeth. Then I interfered and was bidden to hold my tongue. Up jumped the man and asked father what he meant by speaking so to me. He even said — you will not repeat this, please, Mary.”
“No. Why? What did he say?”
“He said — it sounded ridiculous — that he would not permit a young and beautiful woman to be tyrannized over.”
“Oh! Was he very handsome?”
“N — no. He was not conventionally handsome; but there was something about him that I cannot very well describe. It was a sort of latent power. However, it does not matter, as I suppose I shall never see him again.”
“I think I can understand what you mean,” said Mary thoughtfully. “There are some men who are considered quite ugly, but who are more remarkable than pretty people. You often see that in artists.”
“This man was not in the least like your Adrian, though, Mary. No two people could be more different.”
“I know. I was thinking of a very different person.”
“Father speaks of him as though he were a monster; but that is perfect nonsense.”
“Well, what was the upshot of this interference?”
“Oh, I thought they would have come to blows at first. Father would fight duels every day if they were still in fashion. But the man made an admirable speech which shewed me that his opinions were exactly the same as mine; and father could say nothing in reply. Then they accused each other of being insane, and kept exchanging insults until we came to Paddington, where the guard wanted to give the man to the police for getting into the train after it had started. At last we all got out; and then I committed my capital crime — it really was a dreadful thing to do. But ever since father had taken my purse and made a prisoner of me, I had been thinking of how I could give him the slip and come home just how and when I pleased. Besides, I was quite resolved to apply to a London agent for a regular engagement in some theatre. So when father got into a passion about my box not being found instantly, and went off to look for it, leaving me by myself, the idea of escaping and going to the agent at once occurred to me. I made up my mind and unmade it twenty times in every second. I should not have hesitated a moment if I had had my purse but as it was, I had only my ring;, so that I should have had to stop the cab at the nearest pawnbrokers and I was ashamed to go into such a place — although we sometimes used to send Mrs. Wilkina there, without letting father know, in the Gower Street days. Then the porter came up and said that the cab was waiting and I knew he would expect something then and there from me if I went off by myself. What do you think I did? I went straight up the the man who had travelled with us — he was standing close by, watching me, I think — and asked him to buy my ring.”
“Well. Madge: really — :”
“It was an impulse I don’t know what put it into my head but the desperate necessity paying the porter hurried me into obeying it. I said I had no money and asked him for a little in exchange for the ring. The man looked at me in the most terrifying way; and just as I was expecting him to seize me and deliver me up to father, he plunged his hand into his pocket and gave me a handful of money. He would not count it, nor touch the ring. I was insisting on his taking either the ring or the money, when he suddenly shouted at me that father was coming, and bundled me me into the cab before I had collected my wits. Then he startled the driver with another shout; and away went the cab. I managed to give the ring to the porter for him. I drove to the agents in Bond Street, and on my way counted the money: two sovereigns, three half-sovereigns, thirteen and sixpence in silver, and seven pennies.”
“Four pounds, four, and a penny,” said Mary.
“He must have been mad. But there was something chivalrous about it, especially for a nineteenth century incident at Paddington.”
“I think it was sheer natural nobility of heart, Mary. Father enrages me by saying that he was a thief, and made fifty pounds profit out of my innocence. As if his refusing the ring was not an absolute proof to the contrary. He got our address from father afterwards, and promised to send us his; but he has never done so.”
“I wonder why. He certainly ought to. Your ring is worth a great deal more than four pounds.”
“He might not wish to give it up to my father, as it was mine. If he wishes to keep it he is welcome. I am sure he deserves it. Mind: he refused it after giving me the money.”
“If you had a nose like mine, and wore a pince-nez, I doubt whether you would have found him so generous. I believe he fell in love with you.”
“Nonsense. Who ever knew a man to sacrifice all his money — all he had in the world, perhaps — for the sake of love? I know what men are too well. Besides, he was quite rude to me once in the carriage.”
“Well, since he has the ring, and intends to keep it, he has the best of the bargain. Go on with your own adventures. What did the agents say?”
“They all took half-crowns from me, and put my name on their books. They are to write to me if they can procure me an engagement; but I saw enough to convince me that there is not much chance. They are all very agreeable — that is, they thought themselves so — except one grumpy old man, who asked me what I expected when I could neither walk nor speak. That, and my sensations on the stage at Windsor, convinced me that I need some instruction; and I have set Mrs Simpson, the woman in Church Street, to find somebody who can teach me. However, to finish my story, when I saw that there was nothing more to be done that day or the next either, I told the cabman to drive me home, where I found father nearly in hysterics. As soon as the family recovered from their amazement at seeing me, we began to scold and abuse one another. They were so spiteful that father at last took my part; and poor mother vainly tried to keep the peace. At last they retreated, one by one crying, and left me alone with father. I fancy we gave them as good as they brought; for no allusion has been made to my escapade since.
Mary looked at her friend for a while. Then she said, “Madge: you are quite mad. There is not a doubt of it: that episode of the ring settles the question finally. I suppose you regard this bedlamite adventure as the most simple and natural thing in the world.”
“When I have my mind made up to do something, it seems the most natural thing in the world to go and do it. I hope you are not going to lecture me for adopting a profession, after all your rhapsodies about high art and so forth.”
“But opera bouffe is not high art, Madge. If you had appeared in one of Shakespeare’s characters, I should sympathize with you.”
“Yes, make a fool of myself as a lady amateur! I have no more ambition to play Shakespeare than you have to paint Transfigurations. Now, don’t begin to argue about Art. I have had enough of argument lately to last me for life.”
“And you mean to persist?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Of course, if you have talent—”
“Which you don’t believe, although you can see nothing ridiculous in your own dreams of being another Claude Lorraine.