He walked with dignity to the door leading off the platform, and was enthusiastically greeted by the five “bassi.” Mr. Tucknott, flute and all, ran away; he was fearful lest some people should associate him with the intrepid step taken by Mr. Tutt.
It was the Rector’s wife who took command of the situation. She knew that the singing of Mr. Kelton increased to an appreciable extent the attractiveness of the concert, inasmuch as the Honourable Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst had a passion for listening to tenor music, and Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst lived at the Hall, and, her husband being patron of the living, she duly patronized the people who lived by it. It would never do, Mrs. Caffyn, the Rector’s wife, perceived, to induce the patroness to attend the concert and then find that there was no tenor solo. That was why she approached Mr. Kelton with a smile that was meant to suggest a great deal, and that certainly assured Mr. Kelton that the Church was on his side.
“We mustn’t be too hard on poor Mr. Tutt,” she said soothingly.
“I’m not,” cried the tenor quickly. “But it’s a little too bad that a man in my position should be subjected to the caprice of such a person. I have a great mind to throw up the whole business.”
He had turned a cold shoulder to the lady, as if he meant to leave the platform that very instant.
“Oh, no, Mr. Kelton, you would never desert us in such a fashion; it would not be like you to do so,” said Mrs. Cafifyn. “Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst is, I know, coming to our concert solely to hear you sing ‘In the Land of Sleep.’”
“I cannot help that, Mrs. Cafifyn. I do not expect a great deal when I come to sing at a country concert, but I look for common civility, Mrs. Cafifyn—common civility.”
“We are all so sorry. I would not for anything that this—this little difference should arise. You will make allowance for the strain upon poor Mr. Tutt—I know you will.”
“Not unless he apologizes—I have a certain amount of self-respect, Mrs. Caffyn. I have no idea of allowing a person in the position of Mr. Tutt to presume——”
“Oh, mother, I have just been talking to Priscilla, and she says she will be delighted to play the accompaniment to ‘The Land of Sleep,’” said Rosa Caffyn, who came up hastily to the platform at that moment. She was a girl who was alluded to in a friendly spirit as healthy—in an unhealthy spirit as blowsy. She had a good eye, critics of beauty affirmed, and a straightforward voice, Mr. Tutt had more than once announced to the schoolmistress.