"Oh, thank you," said Aldyth. "It would be so kind of you to come and play to the girls some evening. They are very fond of music."
"I call it a poor compliment to Captain Walker to ask him to play to a lot of low factory girls," said Gladys. "What can they know of good music?"
But Captain Walker did not appear to regard the request as uncomplimentary. He looked pleased, and listened with interest as Aldyth talked to him about the work at Whitechapel. He readily promised to help, and a day was fixed for his visit.
But there was a cloud on Mrs. Stanton's face as she heard the arrangement made, and Aldyth soon learned that she had given annoyance to her mother and sister.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
A SUMMONS TO WYNDHAM.
CAPTAIN WALKER came to help to entertain the factory girls—not once only, but several times. He endured with a good grace hearing himself described as "the man with the fiddle," and played his best to a clamorous audience, who talked and squabbled through his finest passages, but showed their appreciation of his performance by applauding vociferously at the close.
Aldyth reflected that she had never given him credit for so much good nature as he now manifested. Fond as he was of high-class music, he could even condescend to play a festive jig for the amusement of the girls. Aldyth felt much gratitude for his willing assistance, and she was far from comprehending how sweet to him were her acknowledgments of the same. It never occurred to her that she was the attraction which drew him so often to Whitechapel. She gave him credit for feeling a genuine interest in the work, for she did not suppose that it was for her sake merely that he took so much trouble.
Yet in truth the motive which actuated Captain Walker was one which has drawn many another man into a temporary performance of good works. He had been charmed with Aldyth whenever he met her at Woodham or Wyndham; but he had shared the common belief that she was destined to marry her cousin, and had steeled his heart to resist the attraction she had for him. But now he knew she was free, there was no resisting the fascination of her society. He could hardly have explained wherein the strength of that fascination lay.
He had been much in society; he had seen many women who were prettier than Aldyth. He admired Gladys Stanton; it amused him to talk and laugh with her; but she never excited within him a painful sense of his own inferiority, nor caused him to approach her with timid, tender reverence. But Aldyth was different from any other girl he had ever known. She had all the freshness and brightness of girlhood, and yet she was a woman in her exquisite sympathy and kindness, her strong self-reliance, her unswerving pursuit of all that was good and true.