Constantia with rare generosity offered no hindrance to the closing of the door and discreetly pretended she had not been aware it had opened. Yet she smiled to herself and decided it was quite a desirable image and very advantageous to Aymer. Also, she reflected with pleasure, she had predicted the result from Patricia’s and Christopher’s intimacy, to her father years ago. 176
The piece at the theatre was a modern comedy which did not greatly interest him, indeed, he was more concerned in keeping his attention from that newly-discovered temple within than in unravelling the mysteries of the rather thread-bare plot of the play. Being, however, quite unaccustomed to dealing with this dual condition of mind it is to be feared he was a little “distrait” and mechanical of speech. Constantia allowed him the first act to play out his mood and then with charming imperiousness claimed his full attention, gained it, and with it, his gratitude for timely distraction.
Half way through the play he remembered this was the theatre at which Mrs. Sartin and Jessie were employed. He mentioned the fact to Mrs. Wyatt, who remarked gravely their names were not on the programme. Christopher equally gravely explained quite briefly. If he found nothing surprising in his own interest in these friends of the past, he never made the error of imagining they would be of interest to newer friends. There was a certain independence in his attitude towards all affairs that touched him nearly, which even at this early age made him a free citizen of the world in which he chanced to move. This attitude of mind was more in evidence to-night than he had imagined. Personally, he quite appreciated the fact he was sitting in a box with one of the loveliest women in London, and that she was everything that was charming and nice to him, but it never occurred to him that half the men in the theatre would have given a big share of their worth to be in his place; he was almost childishly unconscious of the envious glances he earned. Constantia was not: neither was she blind to his attitude of personal content and impersonal oblivion. It amused her vastly, and she compiled an exceedingly entertaining letter to Aymer on the strength of it. 177
“He handed me over to Basil in the vestibule afterwards,” she concluded, “with the most engaging air of having been allowed a special treat and fully appreciating it, and departed straightway to conduct Mrs. Sartin, dresser at the theatre, to her house in the wilds of Lambeth. He owned it in the most ingenuous way, seeing nothing whatever of pathos in it. Does he lack sense of humour?”
Aymer, ignoring the rest of the letter, refuted this query with pages of vigorous sarcasm, to the complete delight and triumph of his sister.
Christopher, having ascertained from a suspicious doorkeeper that Mrs. Sartin would not be free for twenty minutes, cooled his heels in a dark, draughty passage with what patience he could.
He seized on Mrs. Sartin as she came unsuspectingly down a winding stair, and bore her off breathless, remonstrating, but fluttering with pride, in a hansom.
“I’m only up for a few days,” he explained. “Sam dines with me to-morrow and I want you to come out somewhere in the afternoon. Crystal Palace, or wherever Jessie likes.”
Mrs. Sartin’s face and Mrs. Sartin’s person had expanded in the last few years and her powers of expressing emotion seemed to have expanded with her person. Disappointment was writ large on her ample countenance.
“Well, now, if that isn’t a shame and a contrariwise of purpose. I’ve taken a job, Mr. Christopher, for that blessed afternoon. I’ve promised to dress Miss Asty, who is making a debût at a matiny at the Court. Eliza Lowden, she was goin’ to dress her, but she can’t set a wig as I can.”