IV
Susie‚Äôs birthday tea-party, held in a large upstairs room in Miss Trant‚Äôs hotel was just finishing when Inigo arrived. There were signs that Mr.¬ÝMorton Mitcham was about to make a speech over the ruins of the feast. Inigo, a little dazed and breathless, stammered something. Susie looked suddenly frozen; not a glimmer of welcome on her face. Miss Mamie Potter was not there because she had not been invited. But Jerry Jerningham was not there, either, though Inigo knew that he had been invited. All the others were present and were now looking at him reproachfully. No one knew where he had been.
‚ÄúNay, Inigo,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, who liked to speak his mind on all occasions, ‚Äúthis is no time to turn up, lad. I thowt you‚Äôd ha‚Äô been t‚Äôfirst here, I did an‚Äô all.‚Äù
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs right,‚Äù said Joe, with that complacent want of tact which made Mrs.¬ÝJoe, even yet, despair of him. ‚ÄúWhere in the name of goodness have you been to, young feller? We want an apology from you.‚Äù
“Oh, shut up, Joe,” cried Susie. “We don’t want anything of the kind. It doesn’t matter. What were you saying, Jimmy?”
‚ÄúI‚Äôm awfully sorry, Susie,‚Äù said Inigo. ‚ÄúYou see‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, coldly and wearily, and then she looked at Jimmy as if it were a pleasure to see a real human being.
Inigo sat down, and, though he knew his triumph was at hand, he could not help wishing that Mr.¬ÝMonte Mortimer was waiting outside. They all began talking again, and he felt out of it. ‚ÄúWhere‚Äôs Jerningham?‚Äù he asked finally.
‚ÄúCouldn‚Äôt come, he said,‚Äù replied Mrs.¬ÝJoe, in a whisper that carried further than any ordinary tone. ‚ÄúHe sent a note and a present‚ÅÝ‚Äîvery nice, too‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean the present‚ÅÝ‚Äîa box of handkerchiefs, all in good taste, and very acceptable, upon my word, I was surprised. That young man is a Mystery to me, and I don‚Äôt believe in making them‚ÅÝ‚Äîmysteries, you know. If he‚Äôd come and brought nothing, that wouldn‚Äôt have surprised me. If he‚Äôd brought his present himself, that wouldn‚Äôt have surprised me, either. But not coming himself and yet sending such a nice present, now that is surprising. He‚Äôs a Mystery.‚Äù
But Inigo was not listening. He did not care whether Jerry Jerningham was a mystery or not. He was busy cursing himself because he had forgotten Susie‚Äôs present. He had meant to buy it in London. They had all given Susie something‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe could see the little parcels on the table‚ÅÝ‚Äîonly he had forgotten. True there was Mr.¬ÝMonte Mortimer, who was really a large gift, but that was not the same thing. Here was Susie, twenty-one, never to be twenty-one again, though new solar systems should arise and new planets dawn in the blue, and he had not been here to wish her many happy returns and hand over something gloriously sumptuous and see her look at it, eager, excited, happy. She did not look a bit excited and happy now. Had her birthday party been a frost? Damn Felder and Hunterman and Monte Mortimer! He ought not to have bothered about them. And what did Jerningham, the little bounder, mean by not turning up, merely sending some snivelling handkerchiefs?
‚ÄúWell, Miss Trant, boys and girls,‚Äù said Jimmy rising, ‚Äútime to go, if you ask me. We‚Äôll wish Susie all the good luck she deserves‚ÅÝ‚Äîand good health, that‚Äôs a great thing in the profession, I give you my word‚ÅÝ‚Äîafter the show tonight. We ought to go and have a bit of a rest. It‚Äôs a big night tonight, house booked right up, and all for Susie here. Gatford‚Äôs going to get the show of its life tonight, I say, so we‚Äôd better take it easy for an hour or so before we start. That‚Äôs all right, isn‚Äôt it, Susie?‚Äù
Susie nodded, smiling at him but not too cheerfully. They all drifted away from the table. There was a movement towards the door. Susie began gathering up her little packages. This was Inigo’s opportunity.
“Look here, Susie, I’m awfully sorry,” he began.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, and turned away. The others were going now.
This would not do at all. He grabbed hold of her wrist. “I’m awfully sorry I couldn’t get here in time,” he added quickly, “and I’ve gone and forgotten your present too. No, you must listen, you must.”
“I don’t want to hear anything about it. Let me go.”
‚ÄúI won‚Äôt until you‚Äôve heard what I have to say. You see, I had to go up to London today‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“London!” There was a quick change of tone.
‚ÄúYes, London. I didn‚Äôt tell anybody I was going. I had to see Felder and Hunterman, the music people‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Inigo, your songs! They’ve been hearing them. Have they taken them? Do tell me, quick!” She was excited enough now, and all her eagerness was for him and his songs; she was not thinking about herself at all. And this was a wonderful moment for him. He had sometimes thought she was selfish, and many a time, long after that day, he was to think so again, but the recollection of that moment in the hotel at Gatford always drove the thought out of his head.
“They want them all right,” he began slowly.
“Oh, go on, go on. You’re so slow. Tell me all about it quick. If you don’t I shall think you’re feeble again.”
“Well, you see, that man Monte Mortimer heard them too and wants them for a new revue of his.”
“Inigo!” She gave a little scream of delight. Then her face fell. “You’re pulling my leg. You never saw Monte Mortimer.”
‚ÄúI did, I tell you, Susie.‚Äù And he told her what had happened in Mr.¬ÝPitsner‚Äôs room. She listened, breathless.
‚ÄúYou‚Äôre made, my dear,‚Äù she cried. ‚ÄúYou‚Äôll be rolling soon. Marvellous! I am glad. And now the poor old Good Companions are busted. Yes, they are‚ÅÝ‚Äîbound to be.‚Äù Then, after a pause: ‚ÄúBut I‚Äôll tell you straight, I hate to think of Ethel Georgia singing those numbers. You ought to have told him about me,‚Äù she added wistfully.
“I did, woman, I did,” roared Inigo in triumph. “I told him about nothing else.”
“You didn’t, did you? Did he say anything? Laugh, I suppose?”
“Laugh be blowed! I’d have given him laugh. What he said doesn’t matter. The point is he’s coming to the show tonight.”
“What!” This time it was a scream. She shook him hard. “Inigo, don’t be so daft. He’s not coming here.”
“He’s coming here to see the show tonight,” he repeated with great deliberation and emphasis. “As a matter of fact he’s coming to see you.”
“Monte Mortimer!”
‚ÄúThe great chief himself‚ÅÝ‚Äîif he is a great chief.‚Äù
‚ÄúBut how?‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhy?‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean, how did you do it? Oh, I don‚Äôt believe it.‚Äù
‚ÄúI just told him to come down, and he‚Äôs coming down. I‚Äôve reserved a seat for him. I may be feeble, but when I start‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Oh, shut up about being feeble! I never meant it anyhow. Let me think a minute. No, I can’t think. Oh, I shall be all in bits. I’ve thought about something like this happening so many times that now I can’t bear it. I feel funny already. I shall make a mess of it.”
Inigo was alarmed. “Perhaps I ought not to have told you.”
“Of course you ought, silly. I’d never have forgiven you if you hadn’t. I shall be all right when the time comes. If I’m not, then I’m no good. Gosh, what a chance!” She went twirling away, then just as suddenly came back to him, looking thoughtful. “Suppose he doesn’t like me. That’ll be a ghastly washout, won’t it?”
“He’ll like you all right,” said Inigo. “If he doesn’t he’s a fathead, absolutely. And he won’t get any songs of mine. Under which king, Besonian, speak or die! That’s what I shall say to him.”
‚ÄúDarling! But look here, Inigo, I‚Äôm not going to let you tie those songs of yours to me like that‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúListen to me. Never mind about that.‚Äù He caught hold of her hands. ‚ÄúI‚Äôm sorry I couldn‚Äôt get back sooner for your party‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Don’t rub it in. I couldn’t help it, being furious, could I? You ought to have told me what you were going to do. Though it’s more exciting like this, I must say, Inigo.”
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs the point. If nothing had happened, you‚Äôd have been disappointed and your birthday would have been mucked up, absolutely. As it is, I forgot your present‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“You didn’t. The great Monte’s my present. Marvellous present!”
“And I never wished you anything. It isn’t too late, is it? Many happy returns of the day, Susie.”
‚ÄúThank you.‚Äù She said this quietly, demurely. But then, with a glorious rush: ‚ÄúOh‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôm an idiot‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut I‚Äôm so happy. Inigo, you are a darling.‚Äù And her arms were about his neck and she had kissed him, all in a flash.
For a minute or two he held her there. No, not for a minute or two. These were not minutes, to be briskly ticked away by the marble clock on the mantelpiece and then lost forever; the world of Time was far below, wrecked, a darkening ruin, forgotten; he had burst through into that enchanted upper air where suns and moons rise, stand still, and fall at the least whisper of the spirit. Let us leave him there. We must remember that he was a romantic and extravagant youth and very much in love‚ÅÝ‚Äîa young ass. Nor must we forget that such asses do have such moments. Isis still appears to them as she once appeared to that Golden Ass of the fable, and they still feed upon her roses and are transfigured.