'What are you crying
about?'
'Oh, nothing, Dick. I'm so happy. Oh, if only we were outside this station!
Where shall I get in?'
Even if her husband did come, and she were taken back, she thought that she
would like to have been at least inside a railway carriage.
'Get in here. Where's Montgomery? Let's have him.'
'And, oh, do ask Miss Leslie! She's been so kind to me.'
'Yes, she always travels with us,' said Dick, standing at the carriage
door. 'Come, get in, Montgomery; make haste, Dubois.'
'But where's Bret?' shouted someone.
'I haven't seen him,' replied several voices.
'Is there any lady missing?' asked Montgomery.
'No,' replied Mortimer in the deepest nasal intonation he could assume,
'but I noticed a relation of the chief banker in the town in the theatre
last night. Perhaps our friend has had his cheque stopped.'
Roars of laughter greeted this sally, the relevance of which no one could
even faintly guess; and the guard smiled as he said to the porter:
'That's Mr. Mortimer. Amusing, is them theatre gentlemen.' Then, turning to
Dick, 'I must start the train. Your friend will be late if he doesn't come
up jolly quick.'
'Isn't it extraordinary that Bret can never be up to time? Every night
there's a stage wait for him to come on for the serenade,' said Dick,
withdrawing his head from the window. 'Here 'e is, sir,' said the guard.
'Come on, Bret; you'll be late,' shouted Dick.
A tall, thin man in a velvet coat, urged on by two porters, was seen making
his way down the platform with a speed that was evidently painful.
'In here,' said Dick, opening the door.
Out of the dim station they passed into the bright air alongside of long
lines of waggons laden with chimney-pots and tiles, the produce of Hanley.
The collieries steamed above their cinder-hills, the factory chimneys
vomited, and as Kate looked out on this world of work that she was leaving
for ever, she listened to the uncertain trouble that mounted up through her
mind, and to the voices of the actors talking of comic songs and dances.
She put out her hand instinctively to find Dick's; he was sitting beside
her, and she felt happy again.
At these intimacies none but Frank Bret was surprised, and the laugh that
made Kate blush was occasioned by the tenor's stupid questioning look: it
was the first time he had seen her; he had not yet heard the story of the
elopement, and his glance went from one to the other, vainly demanding an
explanation, and to increase the hilarity Dick said:
'But, by the way, Bret, what made you so late this morning? Were you down
at the bank cashing a cheque?'
'What are you thinking about? There are no banks open on Sunday morning,'
said Bret, who of course had not the least idea what was meant.
The reply provoked peals of laughter from all save Miss Leslie, and all
possible changes were rung on the joke, until it became as nauseous to the
rest of the company as to the bewildered tenor, who bore the chaff with the
dignified stupidity of good looks.
The mummers travelled third class. Kate sat next the window, with her back
to the engine; Dick was beside her, and Miss Leslie facing her; then came
Dubois and Bret, with Montgomery at the far end.
The conversation had fallen, and Dick, passing his arm around Kate's waist,
whispered to her and to Leslie:
'I want you two to be pals. Lucy is one of my oldest friends. I knew her
when she was so high, and it was I who gave her her first part, wasn't it,
Lucy?'
'Yes. Don't you remember, Dick, the first night I played Florette in The
Brigands? Wasn't I in a fright? I never should have ventured on the
stage if you hadn't pushed me on from the wings.'
Kate thought she had never seen anyone look so nice or heard anyone speak
so sweetly. In fact, she liked her better off the stage than on. Leslie had
a way of raising her voice as she spoke till it ended in a laugh and a
display of white teeth. The others of the company she did not yet
recognize. They were still to her figures moving through an agitated dream.
Leslie was the first to awaken to life.
The tendency of Dick's conversation was to wander, but after having
indulged for some time in the pleasures of retrospection he returned to the
subject in point:
'Well, it's a bit difficult to explain,' Dick said, 'but, you see, this
lady, Mrs. Ede, wasn't very happy at home, and having a nice voice—you
must hear her sing some Angot—and such an ear! She only heard the
waltz once, and she can give it note for note. Well, to make a long story
short, she thought she'd cut it, and try what she could do with us.'
'You're all very kind to me, but I'm afraid I've been very wicked.'
'Oh my!' said Miss Leslie, laughing, 'you mustn't talk like that; you'll
put us all to the blush.'
'I wonder how such theories would suit Beaumont's book,' said Dick.
'You see,' Dick continued, 'she's left Hanley without any clothes except
those she's wearing, and we'll have to buy everything in Derby,' and he
begged Bret to move down a bit and allow him to take the seat next to
Leslie.
The tenor, conductor, and second low comedian had spread a rug over their
knees, and were playing nap. They shouted, laughed, and sang portions of
their evening music when they made or anticipated making points, and Kate
was therefore left to herself, and she looked out of the window.
They were passing through the most beautiful parts of Staffordshire, and
for the first time she saw the places that seemed to her just like the spot
where the lady with the oval face used to read Shelley to the handsome
baronet when her husband was away doctoring the country-folk.
The day was full of mist and sun. Along the edges of the woods the white
vapours loitered, half concealing the forms of the grazing kine; and the
light shadows floated on the grass, long and prolonged, even as the
memories that were now filling the mind of this sentimental workwoman. It
seemed to her that she was now on the threshold of a new life—the life of
which she had so long dreamed. Her lover was near her, but in a railway
carriage filled with smoke and with various men and women; and it seemed to
her that they should be walking in sunny meadows by hedgerows. The birds
were singing in the shaws; but in her imagination the clicking of needles
and the rustling of silk mingled with the songs of the birds, and
forgetting the landscape, with a sigh she fell to thinking of what they
would be saying of her at home.
She knew Mrs. Ede would have the whole town searched, and when it was no
longer possible to entertain a doubt, she would say that Kate's name must
never again be mentioned in her presence. A letter! there was much to say:
but none would understand. The old woman who had once loved her so dearly
would for ever hate and detest her. And Ralph? Kate did not care quite so
much what he thought of her; she fancied him swearing and cursing, and
sending the police after her; and then he appeared to her as a sullen,
morose figure moving about the shop, growling occasionally at his mother,
and muttering from time to time that he was devilish glad that his wife had
gone away. She would have wished him to regret her; and when she remembered
the little girls, she felt the tears rise to her eyes.
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