The Tinted Venus: A Farcical Romance, F. Anstey [best novels in english txt] 📗
- Author: F. Anstey
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At last he looked over his shoulder and said, "It's a singler succumstance, but I can't get the ring past the bend of the finger."
Ada was cruel enough to burst out laughing. "It's a judgment upon you, Mr. Tweddle!" she cried.
"You dared me to it!" he retorted. "It isn't friendly of you, I must say, Miss Parkinson, to set there enjoying of it—it's bad taste!"
"Well, then, I'm very sorry, Mr. Tweddle; I won't[Pg 33] laugh any more; but, for goodness' sake, take me back to the Hall now."
"It's coming!" he said; "I'm working it over the joint now—it's coming quite easily."
"But I can't wait here while it comes," she said. "Do you want me to go back alone? You're not very polite to me this evening, I must say."
"What am I to do?" he said distractedly. "This ring is my engagement ring; it's valuable. I can't go away without it!"
"The statue won't run away—you can come back again, by-and-by. You don't expect me to spend the rest of the evening out here? I never thought you could be rude to a lady, Mr. Tweddle."
"No more I can," he said. "Your wishes, Miss Ada, are equivocal to commands; allow me the honour of reconducting you to the Baronial Hall."
He offered his arm in his best manner; she took it, and together they passed out of the enclosure, leaving the statue in undisturbed possession of the ring.[Pg 36][Pg 35][Pg 34]
PLEASURE IN PURSUIT II."And you, great sculptor, so you gave
A score of years to Art, her slave,
And that's your Venus, whence we turn
To yonder girl——"
Another waltz had just begun as they re-entered the Baronial Hall, and Ada glanced up at her companion from her daring brown eyes. "What would you say if I told you you might have this dance with me?" she inquired.
The hairdresser hesitated for just one moment. He had meant to leave her there and go back for his ring; but the waltz they were playing was a very enticing one. Ada was looking uncommonly pretty just then; he could get the ring equally well a few minutes later.
"I should take it very kind of you," he said, gratefully, at length.
"Ask for it, then," said Ada; and he did ask for it.
He forgot Matilda and his engagement for the moment; he sacrificed all his scruples about dancing in public; but he somehow failed to enjoy this pleasure, illicit though it was.
For one thing, he could not long keep Matilda out of his thoughts. He was doing nothing positively wrong; still, it was undeniable that she would not approve of his[Pg 37] being there at all, still less if she knew that the gold ring given to him by his aunt for the purposes of his betrothal had been left on the finger of a foreign statue, and exposed to the mercy of any passer-by, while he waltzed with a bonnet-maker's assistant.
And his conscience was awakened still further by the discovery that Ada was a somewhat disappointing partner. "She's not so light as she used to be," he thought, "and then she jumps. I'd forgotten she jumped."
Before the waltz was nearly over he led her back to a chair, alleging as his excuse that he was afraid to abandon his ring any longer, and hastened away to the spot where it was to be found.
He went along the same path, and soon came to an enclosure; but no sooner had he entered it than he saw that he must have mistaken his way; this was not the right place. There was no statue in the middle.
He was about to turn away, when he saw something that made him start; it was a low pedestal in the centre, with the same characters upon it that he had read with Ada. It was the place, after all; yes, he could not be mistaken; he knew it now.
Where was the statue which had so lately occupied that pedestal? Had it fallen over amongst the bushes? He felt about for it in vain. It must have been removed for some purpose while he had been dancing; but by whom, and why?
The best way to find out would be to ask some one in authority. The manager was in the Baronial Hall, officiating as M.C.; he would go and inquire whether the removal had been by his orders.
He was fortunate enough to catch him as he was coming out of the hall, and he seized him by the arm with[Pg 40][Pg 39][Pg 38] nervous haste. "Mister," he began, "if you've found one of your plaster figures with a gold ring on, it's mine. I—I put it on in a joking kind of way, and I had to leave it for awhile; and now, when I come back for it, it's gone!"
"I'm sorry to hear it, sir," returned the manager; "but really, if you will leave gold rings on our statues, we can't be responsible, you know."
"But you'll excuse me," pursued Leander; "I don't think you quite understood me. It isn't only the ring that's gone—it's the statue; and if you've had it put up anywhere else——"
"Nonsense!" said the manager; "we don't move our statues about like chessmen; you've forgotten where you left it, that's all. What was the statue like?"
Leander described it as well as he could, and the manager, with a somewhat altered manner, made him point out the spot where he believed it to have stood, and they entered the grove together.
The man gave one rapid glance at the vacant pedestal, and then gripped Leander by the shoulder, and looked at him long and hard by the feeble light. "Answer me," he said, roughly; "is this some lark of yours?"
"ANSWER ME," HE SAID ROUGHLY; "IS THIS SOME LARK OF YOURS?"
"I look larky, don't I?" said poor Tweedle, dolefully. "I thought you'd be sure to know where it was."
"I wish to heaven I did!" cried the manager, passionately; "it's those impudent blackguards.... They've done it under my very nose!"
"If it's any of your men," suggested Leander, "can't you make them put it back again?"
"It's not any of my men. I was warned, and, like a fool, I wouldn't believe it could be done at a time like this; and now it's too late, and what am I to say to the[Pg 41] inspector? I wouldn't have had this happen for a thousand pounds!"
"Well, it's kind of you to feel so put out about it," said Leander. "You see, what makes the ring so valuable to me——"
The manager was pacing up and down impatiently, entirely ignoring his presence.
"I say," Tweddle repeated, "the reason why that ring's of partickler importance——"
"Oh, don't bother me!" said the other, shaking him off. "I don't want to be uncivil, but I've got to think this out.... Infernal rascals!" he went on muttering.
"Have the goodness to hear what I've got to say, though," persisted Leander. "I'm mixed up in this, whether you like it or not. You seem to know who's got this figure, and I've a right to be told too. I won't go till I get that ring back; so now you understand me!"
"Confound you and your ring!" said the manager. "What's the good of coming bully-ragging me about your ring? I can't get you your ring! You shouldn't have been fool enough to put it on one of our statues. You make me talk to you like this, coming bothering when I've enough on my mind as it is! Hang it! Can't you see I'm as anxious to get that statue again as ever you can be? If I don't get it, I may be a ruined man, for all I know; ain't that enough for you? Look here, take my advice, and leave me alone before we have words over this. You give me your name and address, and you may rely on hearing from me as soon as anything turns up. You can do no good to yourself or any one else by making a row; so go away quiet like a sensible chap!"
Leander felt stunned by the blow; evidently there was nothing to be done but follow the manager's advice. He went to the office with him, and gave his name and[Pg 42] address in full, and then turned back alone to the dancing-hall.
He had lost his ring—no ordinary trinket which he could purchase anywhere, but one for which he would have to account—and to whom? To his aunt and Matilda. How could he tell, when there was even a chance of seeing it again?
If only he had not allowed himself that waltz; if only he had insisted upon remaining by the statue until his ring was removed; if only he had not been such an idiot as to put it on! None of these acts were wrong exactly; but between them they had brought him to this.
And the chief person responsible was Miss Ada Parkinson, whom he dared not reproach; for he was naturally unwilling that this last stage of the affair should become known. He would have to dissemble, and he rejoined his party with what he intended for a jaunty air.
"We've been waiting for you to go away," said Bella. "Where have you been all this time?"
He saw with relief that Ada did not appear to have mentioned the statue, and so he said he had been "strolling about."
"And Ada left to take care of herself!" said Bella, spitefully. "You are polite, Mr. Tweddle, I must say!"
"I haven't complained, Bella, that I know of," said Ada. "And Mr. Tweddle and I quite understand each other, don't we?"
"Oh!" said Bella, with an altered manner and a side-glance at James, "I didn't know. I'm very glad to hear it, I'm sure."
And then they left the gardens, and, after a substantial meal at a riverside hotel, started on the homeward[Pg 43] journey, with the sense that their expedition had not been precisely a success.
As before, they had a railway compartment to themselves. Bella declined to talk, and lay back in her corner with closed eyes and an expression of undeserved suffering, whilst the unfortunate Jauncy sat silent and miserable opposite.
Leander would have liked to be silent too, and think out his position; but Ada would not hear of this. Her jealous resentment had apparently vanished, and she was extremely lively and playful in her sallies.
This reached a pitch when she bent forward, and, in a whisper, which she did not, perhaps, intend to be quite confidential, said, "Oh, Mr. Tweddle, you never told me what became of the ring! Is it off at last?"
"Off? yes!" he said irritably, very nearly adding, "and the statue too."
"Weren't you very glad!" said she.
"Uncommonly," he replied grimly.
"Let me see it again, now you've got it back," she pleaded.
"You'll excuse me," he said; "but after what has taken place, I can't show that ring to anybody."
"Then you're a cross thing!" said Ada, pouting.
"What's the matter with you two, over there?" asked Bella, sleepily.
Ada's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Let me tell them; it is too awfully funny. I must!" she whispered to Leander. "It's all about a ring," she began, and enjoyed poor Tweddle's evident discomfort.
"A ring?" cried Bella, waking up. "Don't keep all the fun to yourselves; we've not had so much of it this evening."
"Miss Ada," said Leander, in great agitation, "I ask[Pg 44] you, as a lady, to treat what has happened this evening in the strictest confidence for the present!"
"Secrets, Ada?" cried her sister; "upon my word!"
"Why, where's the harm, Mr. Tweddle, now it's all settled?" exclaimed Ada. "Bella, it was only this: he went and put a ring (now do wait till I've done, Mr. Tweddle!) on a certain person's finger out in those Rosherwich Gardens (you see, I've not said whose finger)."
"Hullo, Tweddle!" cried Jauncy, in some bewilderment.
Leander could only cast a look of miserable appeal at him.
"Shall I tell them any more, Mr. Tweddle?" said Ada, persistently.
"I don't think there's any necessity," he pleaded.
"No more do I," put in Bella, archly. "I think we can guess the rest."
Ada did not absolutely make any further disclosures that evening; but for the rest of the journey she amused herself by keeping the hairdresser in perpetual torment by her pretended revelations, until he was
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