“Mrs. Brande is a narrow-minded old toad!” cried Lalla contemptuously. “I don’t believe she was ever in an English theatre in her life. She should see some of the dresses at home!”
“This is not the way to get yourself settled, and you know it,” pursued her aunt. “It was most fortunate that Sir Gloster was not present—he is a man with very correct ideas.”
“That stupid, sluggish bumpkin! what are his ideas to me?” scoffed Lalla, with a maddening smile.
“I wish he had an idea of you,” retorted her aunt. “I’m sure I should be most thankful. However, you are aware that we go down in four months, and remember, that this is your last chance!”
Hereupon, according to the Ayah, Miss Sahib “plenty laugh.”
But Miss Sahib evidently laid the advice to heart. For a few days she was extremely piano and demure, accepting her recently-won honours and the appellation of “Miss Taglioni” with an air of meek protest that was simply delightful.
The play was soon succeeded by a concert at the club; and here Miss Gordon, with her violin, put Miss Paske completely in the shade for once. What a contrast they presented. The little smirking, bowing, grimacing figure in pink, with clouds of fluffy hair, and banjo, streaming with gay ribbons, who made up for lack of voice, by expression, chic, and impudence, and threw Tommy Atkins, in the four anna seats, into a delirium of enthusiasm.
Then came the tall young lady in white, with statuesque arms, who gradually cast a spell of enchantment over her listeners, and held the emotions of her audience in the hollow of the small hand that guided her bow.
For once Mrs. Brande felt conscious that Honor had quite, as she mentally expressed it, “snuffed out that brazen little monkey,” and though personally she preferred the banjo and nigger melodies, the audience in the two rupee places apparently did not, for they applauded enthusiastically, and stamped and shouted, “Encore! encore!” and seemed ready to tear the house down. And even young Jervis, usually so retiring and undemonstrative, had clapped until he had split his gloves.
Mrs. Langrishe was not behindhand with her plaudits. She would not leave it in any one’s power to declare that she was jealous of Miss Gordon’s overwhelming success, but to herself she said—