A Woman-Hater [196]
affections."
So then she dismissed him peremptorily.
But, true to Vizard's interest, she called on him again, and, after a few preliminaries, let him know that Severne was every night behind the scenes.
A spasm crossed his face. "I am quite aware of that," said he. "But he is never admitted into her house."
"How do you know?"
"He is under constant surveillance."
"Spies?"
"No. Thief-takers. All from Scotland Yard."
"And love brings men down to this. What is it for?"
"When I am sure of your co-operation, I will let you know my hopes."
"He doubts my friendship," said Rhoda sorrowfully.
"No; only your discretion."
"I will be discreet."
"Well, then, sooner or later, he is sure to form some improper connection or other; and then I hope you will aid me in persuading her to divorce him."
"That is not so easy in this country. It is not like our Western States, where, the saying is, they give you five minutes at a railway station for di--vorce."
"You forget she is a German Protestant and the marriage was in that country. It will be easy enough."
"Very well; dismiss it from your mind. She will never come before the public in that way. Nothing you nor I could urge would induce her."
Vizard replied, doggedly, "I will never despair, so long as she keeps him out of her house."
Rhoda told Ina Klosking this, and said, "Now it is in your own hands. You have only to let your charming villain into your house, and Mr. Vizard will return to Islip."
Ina Klosking buried her face in her hands, and thought.
At night, Vizard in his box, as usual. Severne behind the scenes with his bouquet. But this night he stayed for the ballet, to see a French danseuse who had joined them. He was acquainted with her before, and had a sprightly conversation with her. In other words, he renewed an old flirtation.
The next opera night all went as usual. Vizard in the box, looking sadder than usual. Rhoda's good sense had not been entirely wasted. Severne, with his bouquet, and his grave humility, until the play ended, and La Klosking passed out into the hall. Her back was hardly turned when Mademoiselle Lafontaine, dressed for the ballet, in a most spicy costume, danced up to her old friend, and slapped his face very softly with a rose, then sprung away and stood on her defense.
"I'll have that rose," cried Severne.
"Nenni."
"And a kiss into the bargain."
"Jamais."
"C'est ce que nous verrons."
He chased her. She uttered a feigned "Ah!" and darted away. He followed her; she crossed the scene at the back, where it was dark, bounded over an open trap, which she saw just in time, but Severne, not seeing it, because she was between him and it, fell through it, and, striking the mazarine, fell into the cellar, fifteen feet below the stage.
The screams of the dancers soon brought a crowd round the trap, and reached Mademoiselle Klosking just as she was going out to her carriage. "There!" she cried. "Another accident!" and she came back, making sure it was some poor carpenter come to grief, as usual. On such occasions her purse was always ready.
They brought Severne up sensible, but moaning, and bleeding at the temple, and looking all streaky about the face.
They were going to take him to the infirmary; but Mademoiselle Klosking, with a face of angelic pity, said, "No; he bleeds, he bleeds. He must go to my house."
They stared a little; but it takes a good deal to astonish people in a theater.
Severne was carried out, his head hastily bandaged, and he was lifted into La Klosking's carriage. One of the people of the theater was directed to go on the box, and La Klosking and Ashmead supported him, and he was taken to her lodgings. She directed him to be laid on a couch, and a physician sent for, Miss Gale not having yet returned from Liverpool, whither she had gone to attend a lecture.
Ashmead went for the physician. But almost at the door he met Miss Gale and Mr. Vizard.
"Miss," said he, "you are wanted. There has been an accident. Mr. Severne has fallen through a trap, and
So then she dismissed him peremptorily.
But, true to Vizard's interest, she called on him again, and, after a few preliminaries, let him know that Severne was every night behind the scenes.
A spasm crossed his face. "I am quite aware of that," said he. "But he is never admitted into her house."
"How do you know?"
"He is under constant surveillance."
"Spies?"
"No. Thief-takers. All from Scotland Yard."
"And love brings men down to this. What is it for?"
"When I am sure of your co-operation, I will let you know my hopes."
"He doubts my friendship," said Rhoda sorrowfully.
"No; only your discretion."
"I will be discreet."
"Well, then, sooner or later, he is sure to form some improper connection or other; and then I hope you will aid me in persuading her to divorce him."
"That is not so easy in this country. It is not like our Western States, where, the saying is, they give you five minutes at a railway station for di--vorce."
"You forget she is a German Protestant and the marriage was in that country. It will be easy enough."
"Very well; dismiss it from your mind. She will never come before the public in that way. Nothing you nor I could urge would induce her."
Vizard replied, doggedly, "I will never despair, so long as she keeps him out of her house."
Rhoda told Ina Klosking this, and said, "Now it is in your own hands. You have only to let your charming villain into your house, and Mr. Vizard will return to Islip."
Ina Klosking buried her face in her hands, and thought.
At night, Vizard in his box, as usual. Severne behind the scenes with his bouquet. But this night he stayed for the ballet, to see a French danseuse who had joined them. He was acquainted with her before, and had a sprightly conversation with her. In other words, he renewed an old flirtation.
The next opera night all went as usual. Vizard in the box, looking sadder than usual. Rhoda's good sense had not been entirely wasted. Severne, with his bouquet, and his grave humility, until the play ended, and La Klosking passed out into the hall. Her back was hardly turned when Mademoiselle Lafontaine, dressed for the ballet, in a most spicy costume, danced up to her old friend, and slapped his face very softly with a rose, then sprung away and stood on her defense.
"I'll have that rose," cried Severne.
"Nenni."
"And a kiss into the bargain."
"Jamais."
"C'est ce que nous verrons."
He chased her. She uttered a feigned "Ah!" and darted away. He followed her; she crossed the scene at the back, where it was dark, bounded over an open trap, which she saw just in time, but Severne, not seeing it, because she was between him and it, fell through it, and, striking the mazarine, fell into the cellar, fifteen feet below the stage.
The screams of the dancers soon brought a crowd round the trap, and reached Mademoiselle Klosking just as she was going out to her carriage. "There!" she cried. "Another accident!" and she came back, making sure it was some poor carpenter come to grief, as usual. On such occasions her purse was always ready.
They brought Severne up sensible, but moaning, and bleeding at the temple, and looking all streaky about the face.
They were going to take him to the infirmary; but Mademoiselle Klosking, with a face of angelic pity, said, "No; he bleeds, he bleeds. He must go to my house."
They stared a little; but it takes a good deal to astonish people in a theater.
Severne was carried out, his head hastily bandaged, and he was lifted into La Klosking's carriage. One of the people of the theater was directed to go on the box, and La Klosking and Ashmead supported him, and he was taken to her lodgings. She directed him to be laid on a couch, and a physician sent for, Miss Gale not having yet returned from Liverpool, whither she had gone to attend a lecture.
Ashmead went for the physician. But almost at the door he met Miss Gale and Mr. Vizard.
"Miss," said he, "you are wanted. There has been an accident. Mr. Severne has fallen through a trap, and