CHAPTER I.

A PRIVATE FARCE.

Miss Vere was not only a clever woman, and a woman of the world, she was an excessively warm-hearted and generous woman,--one who, with a large mind, could take pleasure in little things, and especially if they gave pleasure to others. All this was plainly typified by the interest she took in the _Pandora’s_ theatricals, and the trouble she put herself to concerning them. She gained nothing by the act. She had reaped her own laurels on the public boards, and wanted no applause from private individuals. She was busy, moreover, with study for the New Zealand tour, and had no more time than was necessary for her own work. Yet she laid it all aside to coach her fellow-passengers in their parts; to design their dresses; to suggest the rough scenery, and even to superintend some of the preparations. The sailors had rigged up a temporary stage in the steerage, where they had been giving some uncouth performances themselves; and when the ladies and gentlemen proposed to act, Captain Robarts had given leave for it to be draped with the ship’s flags to form a proscenium, whilst some of the men were told off to daub back canvases to serve as scenery for the different acts. It was difficult to place ‘The Rivals’ on such a stage with any effect, but the difficulty seemed to enhance the excitement attendant on the amusement; and what with the ladies’ energy and Miss Vere’s suggestions, the dresses promised to be marvellous, considering the drawbacks placed in their way. For a week previous to the performance, the good-natured actress had always one or more of the aspirants for histrionic honours closeted with her in her private cabin, whilst she drilled them in tone and gesture until they were perfect in their parts. And with no one had she taken more trouble than with Harold Greenwood. The poor little man had been so palpably ‘sent to Coventry’ by his fellow-passengers, since the fright he had given them, that his forlorn condition had excited Miss Vere’s compassion, and she had shown him all the more kindness in consequence. But she little knew the damage she was doing. Ever since their first meeting, Mr Greenwood had secretly worshipped the fascinating actress. She was just the sort of woman to attract a man of his calibre. Love invariably loves a contrast. She was big, and he was small. She was strong and energetic, and he was weak and incapable. She was full of mirth and humour, and he was romantically and sentimentally inclined. His nature unconsciously bowed before her strength and ability, and he mistook the feeling for something different; for magnetism, if it be not love itself, is quite as powerful, and more binding than the master passion. Had Mr Greenwood’s fancy stopped there, it would have done no harm to anybody; but, unfortunately, he mistook Miss Vere’s good-natured attempts to make him forget the _contretemps_ which every one else seemed determined he should remember, for a direct interest in his own puny little person, and plumed his feathers accordingly. His conceit and self-satisfaction became so offensively apparent, after the actress had invited him to her cabin, and coached him there, in some unimportant part for which she had cast him, just as a salve for his wounded vanity, that Jack Blythe, whom he chose as a _confidant_, felt inclined to kick him into the sea. The subject alone would have been a source of irritation to Blythe, without the mode in which Harold Greenwood conveyed it to him. Poor Jack was not in a humour just then to receive love confidences from a successful suitor. He was suffering terribly from the disappointment he had experienced, and it took all his time to cast the devils of jealousy and envy out of him, and bring his mind forcibly to bear upon his duty. And the intense conceit of Harold Greenwood would have been sufficient to stir the wrath of a man less irritably disposed than Vernon Blythe.

‘Out of the way, there!’ he called sharply, on the morning of the theatricals, as a coil of rope came whizzing along the deck about the legs of Mr Greenwood, causing the little man to jump a couple of feet in the air, to avoid being thrown down by it.

‘Dear me!’ he ejaculated, ‘you might have given me warning, Mr Blythe. You are all so awfully sudden in your movements on board ship, don’t you know. One never has a moment to one’s self. And it’s really most important that I should not be disturbed this morning! I’m studying my part for this evening, don’t you know? You haven’t forgotten the theatricals, eh?’

‘We can’t think of theatricals, or any other rubbish, when there’s work to be done,’ replied Jack, somewhat roughly. ‘If you want to study, you’d better go below. There’ll be more rope coming along by-and-by.’

‘No, thank you. I’m quite what Miss Vere calls “word perfect,” don’t you know? A grand woman, Miss Vere, isn’t she now? Dear creature! what hours of happiness we have had together in her cabin, preparing for these theatricals. You’d envy me, Mr Blythe, if I told you all that has passed between us.’

‘Perhaps I might. But I don’t know what right you have, Mr Greenwood, to speak of any lady in such ambiguous terms. The more you have received from a woman, the less you should say.’

‘Ah! but this is no secret, don’t you know? Everybody will hear it soon. It will all be settled this evening.’

Jack looked at the pigmy with unfeigned surprise.

‘What the d--l!’ he exclaimed. ‘You don’t mean to tell me there’s anything serious in it?’

Mr Greenwood looked quite offended.

‘_Serious_, Mr Blythe. Why don’t you ask me at once if I’m a man of honour, or not? Do you suppose I’d let any woman get talked about just for my own amusement? I’ve been brought up different from that, don’t you know? and whatever gentlemen may be accustomed to do in the merchant service--’

‘Here! just stow that about the service, will you?’ interrupted Jack quickly. ‘There are as good men in the merchant service as out of it, and please to remember, when you speak of it, that I’m one of them. And, at all events, we sha’n’t go to _you_ to teach us how to treat a woman.’

‘Oh, dear! Mr Blythe, I meant no offence. I was only speaking at random, don’t you know? But you seemed to think it strange I should have any intentions with respect to Miss Vere, eh? Well, of course I know I shall have trouble with my own family about it, because we’ve never done anything of the sort before--married an actress, don’t you know? But I’m of age,’ said Mr Greenwood, drawing himself up to his full height, ‘and in these affairs I ask leave of no one.’

‘Except the lady, I presume,’ replied Jack dryly.

‘Except the lady, Mr Blythe, as you say. But the women--God bless them--are not hard to please.’

‘I should think not,’ said the young officer, glancing at Harold Greenwood critically; ‘and this lady, therefore, I am to presume, has already succumbed?’

‘Oh, yes,’ replied Mr Greenwood, tittering; ‘she _has_ succumbed--decidedly succumbed. I had not made up my own mind concerning it until this morning, but she made up hers a fortnight ago. Oh, I’ve had plenty of encouragement, don’t you know? The only thing that has kept me back a little, is the fact of her being an actress; but I shall make it a proviso that she gives up the stage.’

‘I should think she would give up anything for _you_,’ remarked Jack ironically.

‘Well, I generally find them pretty amenable,’ returned Harold Greenwood, with the most ineffable conceit. ‘There is a little girl in England now that is most doosidly gone on me, don’t you know? She would have followed me to New Zealand if I hadn’t prevented her,--hid in the hold or the steerage--’pon my soul she would, only to be near me, and to see me, don’t you know? They’re very faithful creatures, women are, when they _really_ love. Don’t you think so?’

‘I really cannot boast of your unlimited experience,’ replied Jack. ‘No one has ever hidden in the hold, or the steerage, I am afraid, just to catch a glimpse of me.’

‘Really. Well, I suppose it depends very much on a fella himself, don’t you know? But the women always said I had a way with me.’

‘And when are you going to exercise your “way” on Miss Vere?’

‘This evening. Oh, yes, it’s quite settled between us that I shall speak this evening. She’s expecting it, don’t you know? But we’ve been so busy the last fortnight studying our parts, I thought it best not to unsettle our minds by thinking of other things. But this evening it’ll be all right. I suppose you’ll be coming down to the theatricals, Mr Blythe, eh?’

‘Oh, yes, I hope to be there.’

‘Then, when they’re over, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to the future Mrs Greenwood. It’ll be all settled by then, don’t you know? Oh, she’s a glorious creature. Such eyes--such a mouth--such splendid hair, and such a beautiful figure! I do hope my people won’t make a jolly row about her being an actress. But if they do, I’ve made up my mind to go on the stage too, and play her lovers. I don’t think I should like any other fella to play her lover. It would make me so horribly jealous, and when I’m jealous, I’m as bad as Othello, don’t you know?’

‘Dear me!’ said Jack, ‘you must be very dangerous. I shouldn’t like to be the woman you caught tripping.’

‘By Jove! I’d kill her, don’t you know?’ replied Greenwood; ‘but don’t let’s talk of anything so horrid. Emily--that’s Miss Vere, you know--will never give me any cause for jealousy--I’m sure of that. She loves me too well. If you’d seen her this morning when we went through our scene together, you’d have been ready to die of envy.’

‘Well, I congratulate you,’ said Jack. ‘She’s a very handsome woman, and a very clever one, and a mine of gold into the bargain. If you win her, you’ll be a lucky fellow. But don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.’

Harold Greenwood was indignant at the suggestion.

‘Don’t count my chickens before they’re hatched!’ he repeated. ‘But they _are_ hatched, Mr Blythe, don’t you know?’

‘All the better for you, my boy,’ laughed Jack, as he walked away.

That afternoon at dinner time Mr Coffin was on duty, and Blythe took his place at the table. As he did so, he glanced with some curiosity at the upper end, where Miss Vere, the Vansittarts, and the Leytons were all clustered about the captain. Harold Greenwood was sitting opposite the actress, devouring her with his eyes, and listening open-mouthed to every word she said. As his glance met that of Vernon Blythe, he nodded to him in a self-satisfied manner, and threw a significant look across the table, as much as to say, ‘Now, you will see, don’t you know?’ and Vernon, in consequence, kept his ears open for all that went on between them. Miss Vere appeared to be in excellent spirits, and quite looking forward to the evening’s amusement.

‘My little “Julia” here, is simply perfect,’ she said to Captain Lovell, as she laid a kindly hand on Alice Leyton’s shoulder, ‘and when you see her in her short-waisted frock, I expect you all to lose your hearts.’

‘Oh, Miss Vere! how can you talk so?’ exclaimed Alice. ‘When I hear you speak, I shall be ashamed to open my mouth.’

‘That’s nonsense, dear,’ replied the actress. ‘If you could play as well as I do, who have been so many years on the stage, my time and labour would have been completely wasted. But you are an excellent little actress, for an amateur, and if you had had my training, you would play quite as well.’

‘You say that to encourage me,’ said Alice.

‘And why shouldn’t I encourage you? I assure you I am very proud of my “scratch” company, and feel sure we are going to have a most enjoyable evening. Mr Greenwood will distinguish himself for one, I know.’

‘I shall do my best to please you, Miss Vere, in every way, before the evening’s over, don’t you know?’ replied Harold Greenwood, with a knowing glance, which almost amounted to a wink, at Vernon Blythe.

‘That’s right,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Captain Robarts, I hope _you_ mean to honour us by your attendance?’

‘Certainly, Miss Vere, unless the ship claims my attention elsewhere. But you’ll have a good audience without me. Everybody is looking forward to it with the greatest expectation. The steward told me there was quite a disturbance amongst the steerage passengers when they heard that they were all invited to attend.’

‘Poor dears!’ sighed Miss Vere softly. ‘I remember once when my husband and I were--’

But here she was interrupted by Alice Leyton.

‘Miss Vere,’ she exclaimed, loud enough for all the table to hear, ‘do you know what you said?’

‘_What_ did I say?’ asked the actress, smiling.

‘_Your husband!_ Are you really _married_?’

At that question, the curiosity of all the passengers was aroused, and none more so than that of Vernon Blythe. The actress glanced up and down the table at the expectant faces, in amused surprise.

‘_Married!_’ she echoed, laughing merrily. ‘I thought all the world knew as much as that. Why, _of course_ I’m married. Do I look like an old maid? What horrible suspicions have attached themselves to me! I’ve been married for the last ten years. I have five children,’ she added, in a faltering voice, ‘at home.’

‘_Five children!_’ repeated Alice. ‘Oh, Miss Vere, do tell me about them. What are their names, and are they boys or girls?’

‘Not now, dear,’ said her friend, as she dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘Come to my cabin to-morrow, and you shall see all their photographs. But if I talk of them now--well, not to put too fine a point upon it, I shall begin to cry, and spoil my looks for to-night.’

‘How can you make up your mind to leave them?’ said Alice stupidly.

‘I am obliged to make up my mind to it. I leave them for their sakes as well as for my own. But my heart is very much divided, you know. It is half in England, and half in New Zealand. My husband is my business manager, and preceded me there by three months. I shall meet him when we arrive at Canterbury, and that thought is quite enough to counterbalance the pain of parting with my children.’

Poor Harold Greenwood had been fidgeting so dreadfully on his seat during this conversation, that he attracted the actress’s attention.

‘You mustn’t be offended, Mr Greenwood,’ she continued, smiling with her beautiful eyes still wet with unshed tears, ‘if I tell you that why I took a fancy to you is because there is something in your face, and the colour of your hair, that reminds me of my eldest boy. Dear little fellow! he went to school for the first time when I left England, and I thought we should both have broken our hearts. If Mr Perkins were only with me--’

‘Is Mr Perkins your husband?’ inquired Alice.

Miss Vere burst out laughing.

‘Yes, my dear! It is really true; but for Heaven’s sake don’t pursue the subject. _I am Mrs Perkins._ But I keep it a secret of blood and death. Please never call me anything but Emily Vere, or I shall not answer to the name. And now it must be time to go and see after our dresses. Mr Greenwood! didn’t I promise to be your lady’s-maid to-night? If you find any difficulty in arranging your costume, come to my cabin, and I will try and imagine you are my little boy, and play “nurse” to you--’

‘No, no, thank you!’ stammered Harold Greenwood, as he tried to make his escape from table. ‘I shall be all right, don’t you know?’

But Jack Blythe was not sufficiently magnanimous to let the humiliated wretch pass him, without standing a jest at his own expense.

‘I say, old fellow,’ he called out, as Greenwood tried to slink by his chair, ‘don’t you forget your promise to me of this morning. You’ll be sure to introduce me to the future Mrs Greenwood as soon as the theatricals are over, won’t you? For the chickens are all hatched, you know, and the business is as good as settled already.’

But the unhappy Mr Greenwood would not even attempt to say a word in his own defence. Wrenching his coat-sleeve from the grasp of Vernon Blythe, he rushed to his berth, and was seen no more till he appeared upon the stage.

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