The curtain descended again, and the Honorable Bertie choking with rage contemplated his battered helmet with a fiery face, and vowed vengeance on Macneillie, but had not the sense to join in the laughter which even Ivy could not suppress, do what she would. The sight of her mirth put the last touch to his wrath, and at the close of the performance he had an angry interview with the manager who, as he furiously declared, had made him ridiculous before the whole house.
“The curtain was rung up too early,” admitted Macneillie. “But the order had been given to clear the stage; you persistently disregard that order every night and must take the consequences.”
“I will not stay another day in your d——d company,” said the Honorable Bertie, fuming.
Macneillie bowed in acquiescence; gravely assured the Earl’s son that a cheque for the amount of his weekly salary should be sent the next day to his hotel, and bade him good evening. Perhaps Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes did not quite like to be so promptly taken at his own word, perhaps the quiet dignity of Macneillie’s manner was too much for him; the threats and denunciations he longed to pour forth somehow stuck in his throat, and with a muttered oath he took his departure, leaving Macneillie well satisfied with the result of his stratagem.
Three days after, the company moved on to Gloucester, Ivy however had made the Business Manager put her in a different railway carriage from the Denmeads with whom she usually travelled, and Evereld could only contrive to exchange a few words with her at the station.
The following week when they went to Bath matters seemed rather more favourable. Ralph who had a great liking for the old theatre there with its many memories, declared that it was the most interesting theatre in England, and Evereld, partly for the sake of seeing it, partly with the hope of patching up the quarrel, went with him on the Monday morning to rehearsal.
The play was “The Merchant of Venice” and fortune favoured her, for Ivy had not a great deal to do, and quickly yielded to the gentle kindly manner of Ralph’s wife. Together they laughed over Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes’ discomfiture, and agreed that it was a great relief to be well quit of him; then, as the rehearsal bid fair to be a lengthy one, Ivy ran out to buy Bath buns at Fort’s and handed them impartially to all present including Myra, and Evereld began to think that things would soon come straight once more.
“Do come in to tea with me to-day,” she begged. “I shall be alone for hours for they mean to go through some of Hamlet this afternoon for Ralph’s sake, and I shall be going to London next week you know for some time.”
It was difficult to resist the friendly look in her eyes, and Ivy consented to come, arriving soon after four at the rooms in Kingsmead Terrace in a somewhat silent mood. However tea and a good laugh over the vagaries of Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes soon thawed her.
“I only wish I had never flirted with him,” she said regretfully. “All the time I hated and despised him.”