'Oh, that is worst of all. Mother is gone to Avoncester to raise the money. She won't tell me how. And I do believe O'Leary's circus is there.'
Then came another sobbing fit.
'But how-what do you mean, my dear?'
'O'Leary was our clown when my father-my dear father-was alive. He was a coarse horrid man, as cruel to the poor dear horses as he dared. And now he has set up for himself, and has been going about all over the county. Mother has been quite different ever since she met him one day in Avoncester, and I fear-oh, I fear he will advance her this money, and make her give me up to him; and my dear father made her promise that I would never be on the boards.'
This was in an agony of crying, and it appeared that Schnetterling had really been a very decent, amiable person, who had been passionately fond of his little daughter. Her recollection dated from the time when the family had come from America, and he had become partner in a circus, intending to collect means enough to retire to a home in Germany, but he had died five years ago, at Avoncester, of fever, and his wife had used his savings to set up this little shop at Rockquay, choosing that place because it was the resort of foreign trading-vessels, with whom her knowledge of languages would be available. She had suffered from the same illness, and her voice had been affected at the time, and she was altogether subdued and altered, and had allowed her daughter to receive a good National school training; but with the recovery of health, activity, and voice, a new temper, or rather the old one renewed, had seized her, and since she had met her former companion, Ludmilla foreboded that the impulse of wandering had come upon her, and that if the interference of the authorities pressed upon her and endangered her traffic, she would throw it up altogether, and drag her daughter into the profession so dreadful to all the poor child's feelings.
No wonder that the girl cried till she had no voice, and took but partial comfort from repeated assurances that her friends would do their utmost on her behalf. Mrs. Henderson tried to compose and cheer her, walking with her herself to St. Kenelm's Parsonage, and trying to keep up her earnest desire to please Mr. Flight, the special object of her veneration. But wishes were ineffectual to prevent her from breaking down in the first line of her first song, and when Mr. Flight blamed, and Lady Flight turned round on the music-stool to say severely-'Command yourself, Lydia,' she became almost hysterical.
'Wait a minute,' said Gerald. 'Give her a glass of wine, and she will be better.'
'Oh no, no; please, I'm temp-' and a sob.
The five o'clock tea was still standing on a little table, and Gerald poured out a cup and took it to her, then set her down in an arm- chair, and said-
'I'll go through Angus' part, and she will be better,' and as she tried to say 'Thank you,' and 'So kind,' he held up his hand, and told her to be silent. In fact, his encouragement, and the little delay he had made, enabled her to recover herself enough to get through her part, though nothing like as well as would have been expected of her.
'Never mind,' said Gerald, 'she will be all right when my uncle comes. Won't you, Mona?'
'I should have expected-' began Lady Flight.
Gerald held up his hand in entreaty.
'People's voices can't be always the same,' he said cheerily. 'I know our Mona will do us credit yet! Won't you, Mona? You know how to pity me with my logs!'
'You had better go and have some tea in the kitchen, Lydia,' said Lady Flight repressively; and Ludmilla curtsied herself off, with a look of gratitude out of her swollen eyelids at Gerald.
'Poor little mortal,' he said, as she went. 'I am afraid that in her case summum jus was summa injuria.'
'It was quite right to prosecute that mischievous woman,' said Mr. Flight.
'Maybe,' said Gerald; 'but wheat will grow alongside of tares.'
'I hope the girl is wheat,' half ironically and severely said the lady.
Gerald shrugged his shoulders and took his leave.
CHAPTER XVI. 'SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES'
And with trumpets and with banners As becomes gintale good manners.-THACKERAY.
A telegram from Sir Jasper brought the good news that Fergus's name was high on the Winchester roll, and that he was sure of entering college after the holidays. Gillian alone was allowed to go up to the station with her uncle Reginald to meet the travellers, lest the whole family should be too demonstrative in their welcome. And at the same time there emerged from the train not only Captain Armytage, but also Lancelot Underwood and his little boy. All the rest of his family were gone to Stoneborough to delight the hearts of Dr. May and his daughter Ethel.
Gillian was in such training that she durst not embrace her brother when he tumbled out of the carriage, though she could hardly keep her feet from dancing, but she only demurely said-
'Mamma and all of them are at Aunt Jane's.'
'Come then,' said Sir Jasper to Captain Armytage, for which Gillian was not grateful, or thought herself not, for she made a wry face.
There was a good deal of luggage-theatrical appliances to be sent to the pavilion.
'This may as well go too,' said Captain Armytage.
'Oh! oh! It is the buccaneer's sword!' cried little Felix. 'How lovely! Last time we only had Uncle Jack's, and this is ever so much longer!'
'Do let me draw it!' cried Fergus.
'Not here, my boy, or they would think a conspiracy was breaking out. Ha!' as a sudden blare of trumpets broke out as they reached the station gate.
'Oh, is it for him?' cried Felix, who had been instructed in Fergus's triumph.
'See, the conquering hero comes, Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!'
said the General.
Fergus actually coloured crimson, but the colour was deepened as he muttered 'Bosh!' while two piebald ponies, drawing the drummers and trumpeters in fantastic raiment, preceded an elephant shrouded in scarlet and gold trappings, with two or three figures making contortions on his back, and followed by a crowned and sceptred dame in blue, white, and gold, perched aloft on a car drawn by four steeds in glittering caparisons.
'Will you mount it, Fergus?' asked his uncle. 'You did not expect such a demonstration.'
Fergus bit his lip. It was hard to be teased instead of exalted; but Fely and he were absorbed in the pink broadsides that the lady in the car was scattering.
CIRCUS-THIS NIGHT-ROTHERWOOD PARK.
The Sepoy's Revenge! Thrilling Incidents! Sagacious Elephant! Dance of Arab Coursers!! Acrobatic Feats!!
'Oh, daddy! daddy! do take me to see it!'
'Father, I should like to see it very much indeed,' were the exclamations of the two little boys. 'You know I have never seen any acrobatic feats.'
'A long word enough to please you,' said Uncle Reginald. 'He deserves something. I'll take you, master.'
'I should think this was not of the first quality,' said Sir Jasper.
'Never mind. Novelty is the charm that one can have only once in one's life,' said the General.
'Some of those van fellows are very decent folk,' said Lancelot. 'I have seen a great deal of them at Bexley Fair times. You would be astonished to know how grateful they are for a little treatment as if they were not out of humanity's reach.'
Gillian was trying to make Fergus tell her what his questions had been, and how he had answered them.
'I declare, Gill, you are as bad as some of the boys' horrid governors. There was one whose father walked him up and down and wouldn't let him play cricket, and went over all the old questions with him. I should never have got in, if papa hadn't had more sense than to badger me out of my life.'
At the gate between the copper beeches the Underwoods and Merrifields parted, with an engagement to meet at the circus on the part of the boys and their conductors.
Fergus was greeted with open-mouthed, open-armed delight by all the assembled multitude, very little checked by the presence of Captain Armytage. Only Lady Merrifield did not say much, but there was a dew in her eyes as she held fast the little active fingers, and whispered-
