Theatre tickets
On the following evening, after tea, Joan sat down to write a
letter to Mrs. Beaudessart, thanking her for the Christmas
hamper. At the same time she purposed intimating to her, as
delicately as might be, that she was aware that her place of
retreat had been discovered by means of the hamper, and that she
trusted it would not be divulged. For, indeed, she could not
consider the words dropped by Tom as implying anything other than
that Hector Beaudessart had tracked her.
She wrote—
"I do not head this letter with our address, as my sister and
I are still particularly desirous of being left undisturbed
whilst we settle down into our new quarters and new mode of life. We are well aware of the kindness of our friends; we are sure that they are only too ready to press on us their generous and well-intentioned assistance; but we have resolved to remain independent, and the many kind offers certain to be made would only embarrass us. But pray assure everyone that we are in cosy quarters, are very well, and active."
She looked up, and saw Sibyll dressed to go out. The day was a
general holiday, and Joan had remained at home. Now evening had
fallen thick and dark. On that evening there was no expectation
of the girls dropping in, and Joan had calculated on spending it
quietly with her sister.
There was an indescribable something in Sibyll's look and
manner that filled Joan with apprehension; she remained with pen
poised in her hand, and her eyes fixed inquiringly on her. Sibyll
manifested uneasiness. She said—
"I should like to take the key with me, so as not to disturb
you, Joan, when I return. I may be late."
"Late, Sibyll! Whither are you going?"
"I shall be with Caroline Grosser. In fact, we have been given
tickets for the theatre."
"Tickets for the theatre!"
Joan was too greatly astounded to do more than repeat the
words.
"Yes," Sibyll explained; "it is most considerate of Mr. Mangin. He has sent me a ticket, and has given one to Caroline, and we are going together. There is to be a pantomime-'Cinderella,' I believe—and—a grand transformation scene. Life has become so intolerably formal and dull here, that one is glad of the smallest flash of brightness in it."
Joan had recovered herself.
"This is impossible, Sibyll," she said gravely. "You cannot
accept a ticket from the manager. It is unseemly. You, who are so
nice about remaining a lady, should know that to do so would be
indecorous."
"I don't know that. I have no reason to suppose that he
intends going with us."
"There should not be a doubt entertained on the matter. It
places you under an obligation to a man at the head of the
establishment in which you are a hand, and he one who does not
bear a high character."
"That is mere slander."
"It may be so—I trust it is so. But, Sibyll, consider that
our father is but recently dead."
"Oh, no one here knows that!"
"Everyone in Fennings' bank knows it. And to-day—Boxing
Day—more than half the young people from Fennings' will be at
the theatre. I really cannot allow you to go. In your own heart I
am convinced that you feel it would not be decent to appear at
the pantomime dressed in deepest mourning."
"I made sure you would growl."
"I appeal to your own good feelings. Sibyll, with the thought
of our dear father taken from us not three months ago, can you
engage in this pleasure?"
The girl stood crestfallen and irresolute. Then Joan
said—
"My dearest, you have much to bear—I know it well; but do not
act so that self-reproach may add its sting to your present
distress. Give me the ticket."
"But Caroline is awaiting me at the head of the street."
"Well, give me the ticket, and I will go to her and explain
why you cannot accept it."
Sibyll surrendered, but not with good grace.
Joan took an envelope and slipped the ticket into it, then put
on her hat and went forth.
At the extremity of the street, under a lamp, lounging against
the post, was Caroline, very smartly dressed.
"Well, you have kept me waiting," said the girl, not at the
first glance noticing which of the sisters approached, "and the
wind cuts through one like a razor. What! Where is Sibyll?"