“Can’t I persuade you to give up this entertainment, my friend? I don’t say that it is wrong in itself—I am not as ridiculously narrow and one-sided as that—but I do say that it comes at a very critical moment in the spiritual life of the parish—at a time when even an innocent amusement may be grasped by the devil as a weapon of offence. My boys and girls will come to you in preference to me—it is only natural. Music and laughter will of course appeal to them more than lantern-slides on Church History—singing and dancing please them better than lectures upon How to Keep Bees. There will be big gaps in my hitherto well-filled rows of faces—faces which send me to bed happy every night of the week. They will be with you, Miss Cantacute, enjoying themselves and learning to be very clever; but will they be learning to be—good?”
Verity was white to the lips as she pushed her chair back from him a fraction, so that the Doll’s House slid heavily to the floor; but she smiled at him quite sweetly.
“There’s Billy-boy Blackburn to be considered,” she said very gently. “I did pay the bet, you know, so we’re quits again and can start afresh. And I want Billy-boy back.”
He stared at her, puzzled, worried, helpless before the workings of this strange little brain.
“I don’t think I quite understand,” he said at last. “You can’t mean, I suppose, that you want Billy as one of your Pierrots? Such a thing is absolutely out of the question!”
“But why?” Verity opened innocent eyes of wide surprise. “Billy-boy sings like an angel, and he has a perfect ear. As for dancing, you should just try reversing with him—oh, of course you can’t—but I give you my word that he’s positively divine.”
“‘Divine’ is certainly the very last term I should think of applying to him!” Grant snapped hastily, forgetting for the moment that he was a parson, and only remembering that he was a man. “If you insist upon having this performance, I must request that he shall not be included. You cannot have him to practise in your drawing-room. You cannot appear with him on a public platform. I—I shall speak to your mother about it, and in the meantime I absolutely forbid it!”
Verity laughed tunefully, and he was filled with a sudden and rabid desire to shake her.
“Oh, I shouldn’t worry about it, if I were you!” she said kindly. “I was brought up with Billy-boy Blackburn, after a manner of speaking, and I know how to manage him beautifully. He’ll be a lamb, you’ll see, and dance like a duck. I’m dreadfully sorry, but I feel bound to go on with the entertainment now it’s started. Church History is a little—well—a little historical, isn’t it?” She smiled angelically. “And, you know, I did pay the salmon on the nail!”
He got up for the last time, also very white, and desperately hurt.