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?
I dont get as immediate response to my work as you do to yours.
No, but you never had sixpences and pennies put into your plate! Now give me my books, please. Ill go in at the upper gate alone, and run upstairs to my room. You enter by the lower one and go through the lounge, where the guests chiefly congregate waiting for the opening of the dining-room. Au revoir!
When Tommy opened her bedroom door she elevated her pretty, impertinent little nose and sniffed the air. It was laden with a delicate perfume that came from a huge bunch of mignonette on the table. It was long-stemmed, fresh, and moist, loosely bound together, and every one of its tiny brown blossoms was sending out fragrance into the room. It did not need Fergus Appletons card to identify the giver, but there it was.
What a nice, kind, understanding person he is! And how cheerful it makes life to have somebody from your own country taking an interest in you, and liking your singing, and hating those beastly pennies! And Tommy, quickly merging artist in woman, slipped on a coatee of dull-green crêpe over her old black taffeta, and taking down her hat with the garland of mignonette from the shelf in her closet, tucked some of the green sprays in her belt, and went down to luncheon. She didnt know where Fergus Appletons table was, but she would make her seat face his. Then she could smile thanks at him over the mulligatawny soup, or the filet of sole, or the boiled mutton, or the apple tart. Even the Bishop of Bath and Wells couldnt object to that!
V
Their friendship grew perceptibly during the next two days, though constantly under the espionage of the permanent guests of the Bexley Sands Inn, but on Wednesday night Miss Tucker left for Torquay, according to schedule. Fergus Appleton remained behind, partly to make up arrears in his literary work, and partly as a sop to decency and common sense. He did not deem it either proper or dignified to escort the young lady on her journey (particularly as he had not been asked to do so), so he pined in solitary confinement at Bexley until Saturday morning, when he followed her to the scene of her labors.
After due reflection he gave up the idea of the claque, and rested Tommys case on the knees of the gods, where it transpired that it was much safer, for Torquay liked Tommy, and the concert went off with enormous éclat. From the moment that Miss Thomasina Tucker appeared on the platform the audience looked pleased. She wore a quaint dress of white flounced chiffon, with a girdle of green, and a broad white hat with her old mignonette garland made into two little nosegays perched on either side of the transparent brim. She could not wear the mignonette that Appleton had sent to her dressing-room, because she would have been obscured by the size of the offering, but she carried as much of it as her strength permitted, and laid the fragrant bouquet on the piano as she passed it. (A poem had come with it, but Tommy did not dare read it until the ordeal was over, for no one had ever written her a poem before. It had three long verses, and was signed F.A.that was all she had time to note.)
A long-haired gentleman sitting beside Appleton remarked to his neighbor: The girl looks like a flower; its a pity she has such a heathenish name! Why didnt they call her Hope, or Flora, or Egeria, or Cecilia?
When the audience found that Miss Tuckers singing did not belie her charming appearance, they cast discretion to the winds and loved her. Appleton himself marveled at the beauty of her performance as it budded and bloomed under the inspiration of her fellow artists and the favor of the audience, and the more he admired the more depressed he became.
She may be on the threshold of a modest career, of a sort, after all, he thought, and she will never give it up for me. Would she be willing to combine me with the career, and how would it work? I shouldnt be churl enough to mind her singing now and then, but it seems to me I couldnt stand tours. Besides, hers is such a childlike, winsome, fragrant little gift it ought not to be exploited like a great, booming talent!
The audience went wild over Donald Toveys songs. He played, and Tommy sang them from memory, and it seemed as if they had been written then and there, struck off at white heat; as if the composer happened to be at the piano, and the singer chanced with his help to be interpreting those particular verses for that particular moment.
His setting of Jock oHazeldean proved irresistible:
They sought her baith by bower an ha;
The ladie was not seen.
And then with a swirl and a torrent of sound, a clangor of sword and a clatter of hoofs:
Shes oer the Border and awa
Wi Jock o Hazeldean.
Appleton didnt see any valid reason why Tovey should kiss Tommys hand in responding to the third recall, but supposed it must be a composers privilege, and wished that he were one.
Then the crowd made its way into the brilliant Torquay sunshine, and Appleton lingered in the streets until the time came for the tea-party arranged for the artists at the hotel.
It was a gay little gathering, assisted by a charming lady of the town, who always knew the celebrated people who flock there in all seasons. Spalding and Tovey were the lions, but Miss Thomasina Tucker did not lack for compliments. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled under the white tulle brim of her hat. Her neck looked deliciously white and young, rising from its transparent chiffons, and her bunch of mignonette gave a note of delicate distinction. The long-haired gentleman was present, and turned out to be a local poet. He told Miss Tucker that she ought never to wear or to carry another flower. Not, at all events, till you pass thirty! he said. You belong togetheryou, your songs, and the mignonette!at which she flung a shy upward glance at Appleton, saying: It is this American friend who has really established the connection, though I have always worn green and white and always loved the flower.
You sent me some verses, Mr. Appleton, she said, as the poet moved away. I have them safe (and she touched her bodice), but I havent had a quiet moment to read them.
Just a little tribute, Appleton answered carelessly. Are you leaving? If so, Ill get your flowers into a cab and drive you on.
No. I am going, quite unexpectedly, to Exeter to-night. Let us sit down in this corner a moment and Ill tell you. Mr. Tovey has asked me to substitute for a singer who is ill. The performance is on Monday and I chance to know the cantata. I shall not be paid, but it will be a fine audience and it may lead to something; after all, its not out of my way in going to Wells.
Arent you overtired to travel any more to-night?
No, I am treading air! I have no sense of being in the body at all. Mrs. Cholmondeley, that dark-haired lady you were talking with a moment ago, lives in Exeter and will take me to her house. And how nice that I dont have to say good-bye, for you still mean to go to Wells?
Oh, yes! I havent nearly finished with the cathedralI shall be there before you. Can I look up lodgings or do anything for you?
Oh, no, thank you. I shall go to the old place where Miss Markham and I lived before. The bishop and Mrs. Kennion sent us there because there is a piano, and the old ladies, being deaf, dont mind musical lodgers. Didnt the concert go off beautifully! Such artists, those two men; so easy to do ones best in such company.