Clara Hopgood - Page 51/105

'What a long time it is, Frank, since you and I sang that duet

together. We have seen nothing of you lately.'

'Of course not; I was in Germany.'

'Yes, but I think you deserted us before then. Do you remember that

summer when we were all together at Bonchurch, and the part songs

which astonished our neighbours just as it was growing dark? I

recollect you and I tried together that very duet for the first time

with the old lodging-house piano.' Frank remembered that evening well.

'You sang better than you did to-night. You did not keep time: what

were you dreaming about?'

'How hot the room is! Do you not feel it oppressive? Let us go into

the conservatory for a minute.'

The door was behind them and they slipped in and sat down, just

inside, and under the orange tree.

'You must not be away so long again. Now mind, we have a musical

evening this day fortnight. You will come? Promise; and we must

sing that duet again, and sing it properly.'

He did not reply, but he stooped down, plucked a blood-red begonia,

and gave it to her.

'That is a pledge. It is very good of you.'

She tried to fasten it in her gown, underneath the locket, but she

dropped a little black pin. He went down on his knees to find it;

rose, and put the flower in its proper place himself, and his head

nearly touched her neck, quite unnecessarily.

'We had better go back now,' she said, 'but mind, I shall keep this

flower for a fortnight and a day, and if you make any excuses I shall

return it faded and withered.'

'Yes, I will come.'

'Good boy; no apologies like those you sent the last time. No bad

throat. Play me false, and there will be a pretty rebuke for you--a

dead flower.' PLAY ME FALSE! It was as if there were some stoppage in a main

artery to his brain. PLAY ME FALSE! It rang in his ears, and for a

moment he saw nothing but the scene at the Hall with Miranda.

Fortunately for him, somebody claimed Cecilia, and he slunk back into

the greenhouse.

One of Mr Palmer's favourite ballads was The Three Ravens. Its

pathos unfits it for an ordinary drawing-room, but as the music at Mr

Palmer's was not of the common kind, The Three Ravens was put on the

list for that night.

'She was dead herself ere evensong time. With a down, hey down, hey

down, God send every gentleman Such hawks, such hounds, and such a leman. With down, hey down, hey down.'