“Well, I never thought you would respond--you, who have enough on your hands at Bexley.”
“One stroke even on the outskirts is a stroke for all the cause.”
“The cause! I don’t believe in the cause, whatever it is. What a concatenation now, that you and I should make fools of ourselves in order to stave off the establishment of national education, as if we could, or as if it was worth doing.”
“Oh, ah! Why, one wants something to do down here, and the Merrifield lot are gone upon it; and I did want to go through the thing again, but now it seems all rot.”
“Nevertheless, having pledged ourselves to the performance, we cannot cry off, and the present duty is to pack dull care away, put all this out of our heads, and regard it as a mere mare’s nest as long as possible, and above all not upset Cherry. Remember, let this turn out as it will, you are yourself still, and her own boy, beloved for your father’s sake, the joy of our dear brother, and her great comforter. A wretched mistake can never change that.”
Lance’s voice was quivering, and Gerald’s face worked. Lance gave his hand a squeeze, and found voice to say--
“‘Hold thee still in the Lord, and abide patiently upon Him.’ And meantime be a man over it. It can be done. I have often had to forget.”
But I can’t conceive, in this very hot weather, How I’m ever to bring all these people together. T. HOOD.
It was not a day when any one could afford to be upset. It was chiefly spent in welcoming arrivals or in rushing about: on the part of Lance and Gerald in freshly rehearsing each performer, in superintending their stage arrangements, reviewing the dresses, and preparing for one grand final rehearsal; and in the multifarious occupations and anxieties, and above all in the music, Gerald did really forget, or only now and then recollect, that a nightmare was hanging on him, and that his little Mona need not shrink from him in maidenly shyness, but that he might well return her pretty appealing look of confidence.
The only quiet place in the town apparently was Clement Underwood’s room, for even Cherry had been whirled off, at first to arrange her own pictures and drawings; and then her wonderful touch made such a difference in the whole appearance of the stall, and her dainty devices were so graceful and effective, that Gillian and Mysie implored her to come and tell them what to do with theirs, where they were struggling with cushions, shawls, and bags, with the somewhat futile assistance of Mr. Armine Brownlow and Captain Armytage, whenever the latter could be spared from the theatrical arrangements, where, as he said, it was a case of parmi les borgnes--for his small experience with the Wills-of-the-Wisp made him valuable.