The Master of the Ceremonies

by George Manville Fenn

ladies! Pray--pray!" cried Denville.

  "Hold your tongue and come away, old lady," said Barclay, in a croakingwhisper.

  "I won't, Jo-si-ah; not till she pays me my four guineas, I declare,"cried Mrs Barclay aloud. "She's been doing nothing but cheat and rookever since I sat down to play."

  "Sir Matthew Bray, my carriage."

  "And gone on shameful, and pretending it was all mistakes. I declareit's abominable."

  "Ladies--ladies!"

  "Will you be quiet, old girl? Hold your tongue."

  "I will not, Josiah," cried Mrs Barclay, who, like many good-tempered,amiable women, took a great deal to make her angry, but when she wasreally excited, was not to be suppressed. "What I say is--"

  "Oh--oh--oh--oh!"

  A series of wild, hysterical cries from a couch in the front room, andClaire ran gladly from the painful scene to where her sister was in aviolent hysterical fit, which, with the exit of Lady Drelincourt on SirMatthew Bray's arm, after a withering glance round, quite stopped MrsBarclay's vituperative attack.

  "Think of that now," cried the latter lady. "Me again. I ought not tocome out."

  "That you oughtn't," growled Barclay. "Next thing will be you've lostthat bracelet."

  "Nonsense, Josiah. Let me help you, Claire dear. I am so sorry, butthat wretched cheating old woman was either kicking me under the tablein mistake for that Sir Matthew Bray, or else cheating. I am so--sosorry. It's 'sterricks, that's what it is."

  "Yes, that's what it is," said Mrs Dean; "and if I might say a word, Ishould tell Mr Denville that he couldn't do better than behave likeLady Macbeth."

  "Oh, mother!" whispered Cora impatiently.

  "Now what's the good of you `oh mothering' me, my dear? What could bebetter than for Mr Denville to say to his guests, `Don't be on theorder of your going, but go at once'?"

  "Miss Dean," said Sir Harry, "your mamma speaks the words of wisdom. Itis the wisest thing. Come, gentlemen, we can be of no service here. ByJove, she does it to perfection."

  Mrs Dean's words broke up the party, and the visitors had nearly allgone, when, in answer to cold bathing and smelling-salts, Mrs Burnettbegan to recover; and just then Frank Burnett, who had been, no one butIsaac knew where, came up to make a fresh scene as he threw himself uponhis knees beside the couch, imploring in maudlin tones his darling Mayto speak and tell him what it was.

  "Oh, my head, my head!" sobbed the stricken wife. "My head, my head!"

  "You'd better let her be, Mr Burnett, sir," said Mrs Barclay. "It'smy belief that quiet's the thing."

  "Yes, and we'll go," said Mrs Dean. "Good-night, Miss Denville.Good-night, Mr Denville, and thank you so much. Come, Cora, love."

  Cora Dean glanced at Richard Linnell and Mellersh as she advanced to saygood-night; for they were going to the same house, and it was possible,as the distance was short, that they would see them home.

  "Good-night, Mr Denville," she said.

  "We will say good-night too," said Mellersh, "unless we can be of anyuse."

  "Oh, no," said their host. "She will soon be better--a mere trifle."

  "Yes, please let me be," said Mrs Burnett. "I shall soon be betternow."

  "Good-night," said Cora, holding out her hand to the woman she toldherself she hated with all her heart.

  But it was in a spirit of triumph, for Richard Linnell was going to walkhome with her.

  "Good-night," said Claire, smiling in her face with a calm ingenuouslook. "I am glad we have met."

  How it came about they neither of them knew, but it was Claire'sseeking; she was suffering so from that heart hunger--that painfulsearching for the love and sympathy of some woman of her age, while CoraDean's handsome face was so near to her, and she kissed her as onesister might another.

  "Well, I never," muttered Mrs Dean as she went down the stairs. "Thinkof that, and you as don't like her."

  The next minute Cora Dean and her mother were walking along the Paradewith Linnell and Mellersh on either side, chatting about the evening.

  "One cigar, Dick, before we go to bed," said Mellersh, when they hadbeen sitting together in his room for some time, after parting fromtheir upstairs neighbours.

  "I'm willing," said Linnell, "for I feel as if I could not sleep."

  They lit their cigars, let themselves out, strolled down to the edge ofthe water, walked along by it in front of the Parade, and went upon thecliff again, to go back silently along the path till they neared thehouse where they had passed the evening, walking very slowly, and endingby stopping to lean over the cliff rails and gaze out to sea.

  How long this had lasted they did not know, but all at once, as Mellershturned, he gripped Richard Linnell by the arm and pointed.

  Linnell saw it at the same moment: the figure of a man climbing over abalcony; and as they watched they could just see the gleam of one of thewindows as it was evidently opened and he passed in.

  "Dick!" whispered Mellersh; "what does that mean?"

  "The same as the night that poor old woman was slain. Quick! Come on!"

  "Stop!" said Mellersh. "Here's another!"

  Volume Two, Chapter XV.

  MRS BURNETT'S SEIZURE.

  "I think we had better go too," said Mrs Barclay at last. "But are youquite sure we can do no good?"

  "No: indeed no, Mrs Barclay; and I am so much obliged to you forstaying," replied Claire.

  "It was the least I could do, my dear, after making all that miserablerumpus about a few paltry guineas. Your papa will never forgive me."

  "Indeed, there is nothing to forgive, my dear Mrs Barclay. It wasnatural that you should be indignant," said Denville politely.

  "Thank you very much for saying so, but it's always the way if I go out,and I shouldn't be at all surprised if there's something else wrong,"cried Mrs Barclay piteously. "I'm a most unfortunate creature."

  "There, put on your things and let's go," said Barclay huffily. "Giveme that case. I'll carry it now, or you'll lose that."

  Mrs Barclay began to thrust her hand into her pocket, and Denville wastalking to his son-in-law at the other end of the room, while Clairebent over and kissed her sister.

  "Are you better now, dear?"

  "No-o! Oh, my head!--my head!"

  "My darling!" cried Burnett, coming back and bringing with him a strongsmell of cigars and bad wine.

  "Don't, Frank. Don't you see how ill I am?"

  "Yes, yes, my own, but the carriage is waiting. Let me help you down,and let's go home."

  "Oh! My gracious! Oh!" shrieked Mrs Barclay.

  "Oh!--oh!--oh!--oh!" sobbed May Burnett, again in a worse fit thanbefore.

  "Now you've done it again," cried Barclay angrily. "There never wassuch a woman. Here, come along home."

  "The case--the bracelet, Jo-si-ah!"

  "Well. What about it?"

  "I knew something would happen. I felt it coming."

  "Stop! Where's that diamond bracelet, woman?"

  "It's gone, Jo-si-ah. I've lost it. It's gone."

  "A two hundred pound bracelet, and gone!" roared Barclay. "Eh, what?Thank ye, Denville. How did you come by it?"

  Denville, who was standing in a graceful attitude, smilingly offeringthe case, explained that Mrs Barclay had let it fall beneath the seatwhen she thought that she was placing it in her pocket.

  "Oh, Mr Denville," cried Mrs Barclay, "you _are_ a dear good man!"

  "Denville! Thank ye!" said Barclay, shaking hands. "You might havestuck to that, and I should have been no wiser. I shan't forget this.Good-night, old man, good-night."

  "Coarse, but very kindly," said Denville, after Mrs Barclay had madeClaire's face wet with tears and kisses, and he had seen the pair to thedoor.

  "Yes," said Burnett; "they're a rough couple. Come, May, no nonsense.Get up. I'm not going to have my horses kept waiting all night."

  May made an effort to rise, but sank back, sobbing hysterically:

  "My head!--my head!"

&nbs
p; "Here, give her some brandy, Claire," cried Burnett.

  "No, no, no. It makes it worse."

  "Well, it will be better to-morrow. Come along."

  "No, no, I cannot bear it. Oh, my head!--my head!"

  "Let me bathe it with the eau de Cologne," said Claire tenderly.

  "No, no.