'O, indeed,' said Miss Montressor, in the same tone. 'It must be a great comfort to you to think that there is some one to whom you can confide your business and your wife with a perfect feeling of security.'
And then they talked of subjects connected with theatricals and New York until Mr. Foster took his departure.
At length the eventful Friday morning arrived, and though, from the ordinary condition of the Euston Station, it would seem impossible that there should ever be any extra bustle there, some little additional excitement might have been noticed. Mr. Bryan Duval, never oblivious of the chances of advertisement, had written to the traffic manager, enclosing a slip cut from the newspaper, announcing his departure, and requesting some extra facilities in the way of transport. The traffic manager, with great politeness, had ordered a saloon carriage to be placed at the disposal of the theatrical party; and thus their intended arrival became known. People who were waiting about on the platform, ordinary passengers and their friends, saw the handsome saloon carriage, and concluding immediately that it must be for some member of the Royal Family, or some other equally distinguished personage, lingered round it in the pleasant expectation of being gratified with the sight of a hat or a beard, the skirt of a robe or the end of a bonnet-string.
They were not, however, much disappointed when, upon inquiry, they learned who were really to be the occupants of the carriage. A live actor or actress in their ordinary citizen garb has an immense attraction for the many-headed, and Bryan Duval was both well known and popular; his very luggage, arriving, as it did, in a huge break, interested them much, and they studied the enormous red letters announcing 'Bryan Duval, passenger per Cuba, New York, U.S.A.,' and the mysterious word 'Hold,' with a feeling akin to awe. The well-informed told the ignorant of the plays he had written and what characters he had played, what a magnificent fortune he had, and what a number of duchesses and marchionesses were dying of love for him.
The great actor was the first to arrive. Ordinary people travel in rough clothes, and drive to the station in a cab. Not so Mr. Bryan Duval. His belief in the necessity of advertising himself remained with him to the last, and the hoofs of the spanking chestnuts, as their master tooled them under the archway, roused the echoes of the Euston courtyard. No sign of vulgar luggage appeared in Mr. Duval's trap--the only hint that he was about to travel might have been found in the natty morocco-leather courier's pouch, slung over his shoulder by a trap; otherwise he might have been going down to a picnic at St. Albans, for he was dressed in a suit of gray dittos, wore a crimson tie, shiny-tip jean boots, and his usual curly-brimmed hat.
The little crowd gathered round him as he drew up to the station, but he pretended to take no notice of them, and to be absorbed in giving directions to his groom. When these were concluded, he was apparently about moving off, when the groom touched his hat, and said, with something like a quiver in his voice, 'Take the liberty of wishing you good-bye, sir--happy voyage and a safe return.'
'Thank you, James, very much,' said Mr. Duval, in his clearest tones. 'Take care of the horses--see that Black Bess and Tantivy are always properly exercised, and remember me very kindly to your wife.' And Mr. Duval moved off midst a murmur of sympathetic admiration from the crowd.
'Sharp fellow that James,' he muttered to himself, as he entered the ticket office; 'spoke that line I taught him deuced well. I shall probably be able to make something of him on the stage when I come back.'
His elation was a little dazed at the sight of Mrs. Regan, who, running up to him, clasped him by both hands, and whose appearance was scarcely calculated to impress bystanders with admiration. This worthy old person, who was of Hibernian descent, and had what is known amongst her countrymen as a 'potato' face, was dressed in a voluminous chintz gown, like bed furniture, and, slung on her arm, carried a check wicker basket, like a soft chess-board, with what was obviously the neck of a bottle protruding from it. He was gratified, however, by the appearance of Mr. Cooington, who, with a feeling that he was about to spend ten days on the ocean, arrived at Euston Station in a yachting costume, a straw hat with a very narrow brim, and a ribbon with 'Plover' in gold letters round it. Mr. Skyrmshire, the low-comedy man, had apparently adopted some of his theatrical wardrobe for travelling purposes, and consequently arrived in a suit of such enormous stripes, that in it he looked like a zebra on his hind legs. He was a practical as well as a poetical humourist too, and combining jocosity with business, carried about with him a number of small labels, printed 'Go and hear Skrymshire, the brilliant Momus,' and gummed at the back, with which he adorned the velveteen jackets of all the porters with whom he came in contact.
And then Mr. Foster arrived, and then Miss Montressor, looking very pretty, and dressed with great simplicity and good taste. Mr. Duval offered her his arm, and led the way to the saloon carriage, the others following. Then rushed out to take a last look that the baggage was all safe, to compliment the inspector and tip the porters, and returned. A whistle, a shriek, Mr. Skrymshire said, 'Give him his head, John,' Mrs. Regan breathed hard and cried, 'Now we're off,' the train moved on a little, and then stopped.