The Master of the Ceremonies
Page 50
I cannot bear it."
"Then come home," cried Burnett.
"No, no," moaned his wife. "I'm so ill--so ill. Papa--couldn't I stayhere to-night--my own old little room?"
"Yes, yes, my darling," said Denville tenderly.
"I am so ill, papa. My head throbs so if I move it."
"Let her stay, Frank," said Claire sympathisingly.
"Not I. What! go home without her? I'll be hanged if I do!" criedBurnett pettishly. "She'll be all right as soon as she gets out intothe air. Now, May, jump up."
He caught her by the arm, but May uttered a wail.
"Frank, dear, you are cruel," said Claire.
"You mind your own business," said the irritable little fellow sharply."She has got to come home with me."
"I--I--I can't, Frank. I am so ill."
"Nonsense! Sick headache. I often have them. You've taken too muchwine."
"She has not had any, Frank," said Claire indignantly.
"Then she ought to have had some. That's the reason. You hold yourtongue. Now, madam, jump up."
The MC had stood looking on, with his face working, but saying no wordtill now that Burnett caught his wife roughly by both hands and tried topull her to her feet.
"Stop!" he cried firmly. "Really, Frank Burnett, you are ungentle inthe extreme."
"Here, I know what I'm doing," he retorted. "She's my wife."
"And she's my daughter, sir," cried Denville haughtily; "and while I amby no half-tipsy man shall insult her."
"Half-tipsy? Who's half-tipsy? This is the result of coming here,sir."
"Where I have been on thorns for the last two hours, lest my guestsshould see what a state you were in."
"State? What do you mean?"
"I will not expose you more before your young wife," said Denvillequietly. "We are both angry, and had better say good-night. May, doyou feel well enough to go home?"
"No; oh no, papa."
"You hear, Frank Burnett. Claire, you can easily get her bedroomready."
"Look here, I shan't stay," cried Burnett. "I shan't stay here."
"Well, go home then. We will take care of her, you may depend."
"It's all nonsense. She shall come home."
"My child is not well enough to go home," retorted Denville.
"Frank dear, don't be obstinate, for May's sake," said Claire. "There,go home, dear. I'll get her to bed soon, and she'll be better in themorning."
Burnett looked from one to the other with his teeth set, and was aboutto burst out into an angry tirade; but he met the firm, cold gaze of hisfather-in-law fixed upon him, and it was irresistible. It literallylooked him down; and, with an impatient curse, he left the house andbanged the door.
Directly after they heard the rattle of carriage-wheels, and May uttereda sigh of relief as she watched the MC walk round the room extinguishingthe candles.
"Oh, papa dear," she sobbed, "he does behave so badly to me!"
"My child!" said Denville sadly, as he bent down and kissed her. "Youare weary and excited to-night. Pray say no more."
He left the room, and went downstairs to bid the servants leaveeverything till morning, and go to bed; and as the door closed Claireknelt down beside her sister, and laid her hand upon her burningforehead.
"That's nice," sighed May; and then she sat up suddenly, glanced round,and flung her arms round Claire's neck to hide her face in her breast,and burst into a passionate fit of sobbing.
"Oh, hush, hush, May, my darling," whispered Claire tenderly, as shekissed and caressed the pretty little head, which was jerked up again inan angry, spasmodic way.
"You saw--you heard," she cried, with her face flushed and her eyesflashing, as she talked in a quick, low, excited manner. "You blamed mefor loving poor Louis. Why, he was all that was gentle and kind. Heloved me in his fierce Italian way, and he was so jealous that he wouldhave killed me if I had given him cause. But so tender and loving;while this nasty, hateful little Frank--"
"May: oh, hush!"
"I won't hush. I hate him. I despise him. A mean, shabby, spitefullittle wretch! You saw him to-night. He pinched me, and wrung mywrists. He often hurts me."
"May!--May!"
"It's true. He strikes me, too; and I tell you I hate him."
"May! Your husband, whom you have sworn to honour and love!"
"And I don't either, and I never shall," cried May sharply.
"You must, you must, May, my darling. There, there; you are flushed andexcited with your head being so bad, and Frank was not so gentle as hemight have been. He was vexed because you had turned ill."
"Nasty, fretful wretch!"
"May!"
"I don't care; he is," cried the little foolish thing, lookingwonderfully like an angry child as she spoke.
"Hush! I will not let you speak of your husband like that, May."
"Husband! A contemptible little tipsy wretch who bought me of papabecause I was pretty. I loathe him, I tell you. Papa ought to havebeen ashamed of himself for selling me as he did."
"May! May! little sister!" said Claire, weeping silently as she drewher baby head to her bosom, and tried to stay the flow of bitter wordsthat came.
"Horses and carriages, and servants and dresses, and nothing else butmisery. I tell you--I don't care! If he ever beats me again I'll runaway from him, that I will."
"No, no, little passionate, tender heart," said Claire lovingly. "Youare ill and troubled to-night. There, there. You shall sleep quietlyto-night under the old roof. Why, May dear, it seems like the dear oldtimes, and you are the little girl again whom I am going to undress andput to bed. There, you are better now."
"Old times? What, of misery and poverty and wretchedness, and havingservants that you cannot pay, and struggling to keep up appearances, andall for what?"
"Oh, hush, hush, little May!" said Claire, holding her to her breast,and half sadly, half playfully, rocking herself to and fro.
"You don't know what trouble is. You don't know what it is to have yourtenderest feelings torn. You never knew what it was to suffer as Ihave. I hate him."
She could not see Claire's ghastly face, nor the agonised twitching ofthe nerves about her lips which her sister was striving to master.
"No one knows what I have had to suffer," she went on; "and it's toohard--it's too hard to bear. No one loves me, no one cares for me.It's all misery and wretchedness, and--and I wish I was dead."
"No, no, no, darling," said Claire, as she drew the sobbing little thingcloser to her breast; "don't say that. I love you dearly, my ownsister, and it breaks my heart to see you unhappy. But there, there,you are so weary and ill to-night that it makes everything look soblack. I suffer too, darling, for your sake--for all our sakes, and nowI will not scold you."
"Scold me?" cried May, in affright.
"No, not one word; only pray to you to be careful of your dear, sweetlittle self. My darling, I am so proud of my beautiful little sister.You will not be frivolous again, and give me so much pain?"
"N-no," sighed May, with her face buried in her sister's breast.
"Frank--"
"Don't--don't speak of him."
"Yes, yes; he is your husband, and you must try to win him over to youby gentleness, instead of being a little angry tyrant."
"Clairy!"
"Yes, but you can be," said Claire playfully, as she pressed her lipsupon the soft, flossy hair. "I can remember how these little hands usedto beat at me, and the little tearful eyes flash anger at me in the oldtimes."
Just then Denville entered the room softly, with a weary, dissatisfiedair; but, as he stood in the doorway unnoticed, his whole aspectchanged, and the tears stood in his eyes.
"God bless them!" he said fervently; and then, as he saw May raise herhead, and look excitedly in her sister's face, he stepped forward.
"Well, little bird," he said, bending down to kiss May's forehead, "backonce more in the old nest?"
Claire looked search
ingly at him as she rose from her knees; and thenshe sighed as she saw May fling herself into her father's arms.
"There, there, I shall make the head ache again," he said, with a calm,restful smile upon his lips, such as Claire had not seen for months.
"How he loves her!" she thought; and then another idea flashed throughher breast. Suppose May knew!
"Claire, my