Suddenly she remembered herself, and began again:
Miss Markham and I had twice gone to large seaside hotels with great success, but, of course, she had a manager and a reputation. I thought I would try the same thing alone in some very quiet retreat, and see if it would do. Oh! wasnt it funny! (Here she broke into a perfectly childlike fit of laughter.) It was such a well-behaved, solemn little audience, that never gave me an inkling of its liking or its loathing.
Oh, yes, it did! remonstrated Appleton. They loved your Scotch songs.
Silently! cried Tommy. I had dozens and dozens of other things upstairs to sing to them, but I thought I was suiting my programme to the place and the people. I looked at them during luncheon and made my selections.
You are flattering the week-enders.
I believe you are musical, she ventured, looking up at him as she played with a tuft of sea-pinks.
I am passionately fond of singing, so I seldom go to concerts, he answered, somewhat enigmatically. Your programme was an enchanting one to me.
It was good of its kind, if the audience would have helped me,and Tommys lip trembled a little; but perhaps I could have borne that, if it hadnt been for theplate.
Not a pleasant custom, and a new one to me, said Appleton.
And to me! (Here she made a little grimace of disgust.) I knew beforehand I had to face the platebut the contents! Where did you sit?
I was forced to stay a trifle in the background, I entered so late. It was your Minstrel Boy that dragged me out of my armchair in the lounge.
Then perhaps you saw the plate? I know by your face that you did! You saw the sixpences, which I shall never forget, and the pennies, which I will never forgive! I thirst for the blood of those who put in pennies!
They would all have been sitting in boiling oil since Friday if I had had my way, responded Appleton.
Tommy laughed delightedly. I know now who put in the sovereign! I knew every face in that audiencethat wasnt difficult in so small a oneand I tried and tried to fix the sovereign on any one of them, and couldnt. At last I determined that it was the old gentleman who went out in the middle of Allan Water, feeling that he would rather pay anything than stay any longer. Confess! it was you!
Appleton felt very sheepish as he met Tommys dancing eyes and heightened color.
I couldnt bear to let you see those pennies, he stammered, but I couldnt get them out before the page came to take the plate.
Perhaps you were pound foolish, and the others were penny wise, but it was awfully nice of you. If I can pay my bill here without spending that sovereign, I believe Ill keep it for a lucky piece. I shall be very rich by Saturday night, anyway.
A legacy due?
Goodness, no! I havent a relation in the world except one, who disapproves of me; not so much as I disapprove of him, however. No, Albert Spalding and Donald Tovey have engaged me for a concert in Torquay.
I have some business in Torquay which will keep me there for a few days on my way back to Wells, said Appleton nonchalantly. (The bishops letter had been a pure and undefiled source of information on all points.)
Why, how funny! I hope youll be there on Saturday. Therell be no plate! Tickets two and six to seven and six, but you shall be my guest, my sovereign guest. I am going to Wells myself to stay tilltill I make up my mind about a few things.
America next? inquired Appleton, keeping his voice as colorless as possible.
I dont know. Helena made me resign my church position in Brooklyn, and for the moment my career is undecided.
She laughed, but her eyes denied the mirth that her lips affirmed, and Appleton had such a sudden, illogical desire to meddle with her career, to help or hinder it, to have a hand in it at any rate, that he could hardly hold his tongue.
The Torquay concert will be charming, I hope. You know what Spaldings violin-playing is, and Donald Tovey is a young genius at piano-playing and composing. He is going to accompany me in some of his own songs, and he wants me to sing a group of American onesMacdowell, Chadwick, Nevin, Mrs. Beach, and Margaret Lang.
I hope youll accompany yourself in some of your own ballads!
No, the occasion is too grand; unless they should happen to like me very much. Then I could play for myself, and sing Allan Water, or Believe Me, or Early One Morning, or Barbara Allen.
(Appleton wondered if a claque of sizable, trustworthy boys could be secured in Torquay, and under his intelligent and inspired leadership carry Miss Thomasina Tucker like a cork on the wave of success.)
Wouldnt it be lunch-time? asked Miss Tucker, after a slight pause.
It is always time for something when Im particularly enjoying myself, grumbled Appleton, looking at his watch. Its not quite one oclock. Must we go in?
Oh, yes; weve ten minutes walk,and Tommy scrambled up and began to brush sand from her skirts.
Couldnt I sit at your tableunder the chaperonage of the Bishop of Bath and Wells? And Appleton got on his feet and collected Tommys books.
The girls laugh was full-hearted this time. Certainly not, she said. What does Bexley Sands know of the bishop and his interest in us? But if you can find the drawing-room utterly deserted at any time, Ill sing for you.
How about a tea-basket and a walk to Gray Rocks at four oclock? asked Appleton as they strolled toward the hotel.
Charming! And I love singing out of doors without accompaniment. Im determined to earn that sovereign in course of time! Are you from New England?
Yes; and you?
Oh, Im from New York. I was born in a row of brown-stone fronts, in a numbered street, twenty-five or thirty houses to a block, all exactly alike. I wonder how Ive outlived my start. And you?
In the country, bless it,in the eastern part of Massachusetts. We had a garden and my mother and I lived in it during all the months of my life that matter. Thats where the mignonette grew.
And He planted a garden eastward in Eden, quoted Tommy, half to herself.
Its the only Eden I ever knew! Do you like it over here, Miss Tucker, or are you homesick now that your friend is in America?
Oh, Im never homesick; for the reason that I have never had any home since I was ten years old, when I was left an orphan. I havent any deep roots in New York; its like the ocean, too big to love. I respect and admire the ocean, but I love a little river. You know the made-over aphorism: The home is where the hat is? For hat read trunk, and you have my case, precisely.
Thats because you are absurdly, riotously young! It wont suit you forever.
Does anything suit one forever? asked Tommy frivolously, not cynically, but making Appleton a trifle uncomfortable nevertheless. Anything except singing, I mean? Perhaps you feel the same way about writing? You havent told me anything about your work, and Ive confided my past history, present prospects, and future aspirations to you!
Theres not so much to say. It is good work, and it is growing better. I studied architecture at the Beaux-Arts. I do art-criticism, and I write about buildings chiefly. That would seem rather dull to a warbler like you.
Not a bit. Doesnt somebody say that architecture is frozen music?