# The King of Schnorrers (Collection)/The Principal Boy

Contents
The Principal Boy.
I.
To sit out a play is a bore; to sit out a dance demands less patience. Even when you do it merely to prevent your partner dancing with you, it is the less disagreeable alternative. But it sometimes makes you giddier than galoping. Frank Redhill lost his head—a well-built head—completely through indulging in it; and without the head to look after it, the heart soon goes. He held Lucy's little hand in his hot clasp. She wished he would get himself gloves large enough not to split at the thumbs, and felt quite affectionate towards the dear, untidy boy. As a woman almost out of her teens, she could permit herself a motherly feeling for a lad who had but just attained his majority. The little thing looked very sweet in a demure dress of nun's veiling, which Frank would have described as "white robes." For he was only an undergraduate. Some undergraduates are past masters in the science and art of woman; but Frank was not in that set. Nor did he herd with the athletic, who drift mainly into the unpaid magistracy, nor with the worldly, who usually go in for the church. He was a reading man. Only he did not stick to the curriculum, but fed himself on the conceits of the poets, and thirsted to redeem mankind. So he got a second-class. But this is anticipating. Perhaps Lucy had been anticipating, too. At any rate she went through the scene as admirably as if ​THE PRINCIPAL BOY. 243
she had rehearsed for it. And yet it was presumably the first time she had been asked to say : " I love you " — that wonderful little phrase, so easy to say and so hard to be- lieve. Still, Lucy said and Frank believed it.
Not that Lucy did not share his belief. It must be for love that she was conceding Frank her hand — since her mother objected to the match. As the nephew of a peer, Frank could give her rather better society than she now en- joyed, even if he could not give her that of the peer, who had an hereditary feud with him. Of course she could not marry him yet, he was quite too poor for that, but he was a young man of considerable talents — which are after all gold pieces. When fame and fortune came to him, Lucy would come and join the party. En atteyidant, their souls would be wed. They kissed each other passionately, seal- ing the contract of souls with the red sealing-wax of burning lips. To them in Paradise entered the Guardian Angel with flaming countenance, and drove them into the outer dark- ness of the brilliant ball-room.
" My dear," said the Guardian Angel, who was Lucy Grayling's mother, " there is going to be an interval, and Mrs. Bayswater is so anxious for you to give that sweet re- citation from Racine."
So Lucy declaimed one of Athalie's terrible speeches in a way that enthralled those who understood it, and made those who didn't, enthusiastic.
The applause did not seem to gratify the Guardian Angel as much as usual. Lucy wondered how much she had seen, and, disliking useless domestic discussion, extorted a prom- ise of secrecy from her lover before they parted. He did not care about keeping anything from his father — especially something of which his approval was dubious. Still, all's fair and honourable in love — or love makes it seem so. ​244 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
Frank took a solemn view of engagement, and em- braced Lucy in his general scheme for the redemption of mankind. He felt she was a sacred as well as a precious charge, and he promised himself to attend to her spiritual salvation in so far as her pure instincts needed guidance. He directed her reading in bulky letters bearing the Oxford post-mark. Meantime, Lucy disapproved of his neckties. She thought he would be even nicer with a loving wife to look after his wardrobe.
II.
When Frank achieved the indistinction of a second-class, as prematurely revealed, he went to Canada, and became a farm-pupil. It was not that his physique warranted the work, but there seemed no way in the old country of mak- ing enough money to marry Lucy (much less to redeem mankind) on. He was suffering, too, at the moment from a disgust with the schools, and a sentimental yearning to " return to nature."
The parting with Lucy was bitter, but he carried her bright image in his heart, and wrote to her by every mail. In Canada he did not look at a woman, as the saying goes ; true, the opportunities were scant on the lonely log-farm. Absence, distance, lent the last touch of idealisation and enchantment to his conception of Lucy. She stood to him not only for Womanhood and Purity, but for England, Home, and Beauty. Nay, the thought of her was even Culture, when the evening found him too worn with physical toil to read a page of the small library he had brought with him. He saw his way to profitable farming on his own account in a few years' time. Then Lucy would come out to him, if they should be too impatient to wait till he had made money enough to go to her. ​THE PRINCIPAL BOY. 245
Lucy's letters did nothing to disabuse him of his ideals or his aims. They were charming, affectionate, and intel- lectual. Midway, in the batch he treasured more than east- ern jewels, the sheets began to wear mourning for Lucy's mother. The Guardian Angel was gone — whether to con- tinue the role none could say. Frank comforted the orphaned girl as best he could with epistolary kisses and condolences, and hoped she would get along pleasantly with her aunt till the necessity for that good relative vanished. And so the correspondence went on, Lucy's mind improving visibly under her lover's solicitous guidance. Then one day Redhill the elder cabled that by the death of his brother and nephew within a few days of each other, he had become Lord Redhill, and Frank consequently heir to a fine old peerage, and with an heir's income. Whereupon Frank re- turned forthwith from nature to civilisation. Now he could marry Lucy (and redeem mankind) immediately. Only he did not tell Lucy he was coming. He could not deny him- self (or her) the pleasure of so pleasurable a surprise.
III.
It was a cold evening in early November when Frank's hansom drove up to the little house near Bond Street, where Lucy's aunt resided. He had not been to see his father yet ; Lucy's angel-face hovered before him, warming the wintry air, and drawing him onwards towards the roof that sheltered her. The house was new to him ; and as he paused outside for a moment, striving to still his emotion, his eye caught sight of a little placard in the window of the ground floor, inscribed "Apartments." He shuddered, a pang akin to self-reproach shot through him. Lucy's ​-i(3 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
aunt was poor, was reduced to letting lodgings. Lucy her- self had, perhaps, been left penniless. Delicacy had re- strained her from alluding to her poverty in her letter. He had taken everything too much for granted — surely, straitened as were his means, he should have proffered her some assistance. A suspicion that he lacked worldly wis- dom dawned upon him for the first time, as he rang the bell. Poor little Lucy ! Well, whatever she had gone through, the bright days were come at last. The ocean which had severed them for so many weary moons no longer rolled be- tween them — thank God, only the panels of the street-door divided them now. In another instant that darling head — no more the haunting elusive phantom of dream — would be upon his breast. Then as the door opened, the thought flashed upon him that she might not be in — the idea of wait- ing a single moment longer for her turned him sick. But his fears vanished at the encouraging expression on the face of the maid servant who opened the door.
" Miss Gray's upstairs," she mumbled, without waiting for him to speak. And, all intelligent reflection swamped by a great wave of joy, he followed her up one narrow flight of stairs, and passed eagerly into a room to which she pointed. It was a bright, cosy room, prettily furnished, and a cheerful fire crackled on the hearth. There were books and flowers about, and engravings on the walls. The little round table was laid for tea. Everything smiled " welcome." But these details only gradually penetrated Frank's consciousness — for the moment all he saw was that She was not there. Then he became aware of the fire, and moved involuntarily towards it, and held his hands over it, for they were almost numbed with the cold. Straightening himself again, he was startled by his own white face in the glass.
He gazed at it dreamily, and beyond it towards the fold​THE PR IXC IP AL BOY. 247
ing-doors, which led into an adjoining room. His eyes fixed themselves fascinated upon these reflected doors, and strayed no more. It was through them that she would come.
Suddenly a dreadful thought occurred to him. When she came through those doors, what would be the effect of his presence upon her? Would not the sudden shock, joyful though it was, upset the fragile little beauty ? Had he not even heard of people dying from joy? Why had he not prepared her for his return, if only to the tiniest extent ? The suspicion that he lacked worldly wisdom gained in force. Tumultuous suggestions of retreat crossed his mind — but before he could move, the folding-doors in the mirror flew apart, and a radiant image dashed lightly through them. It was a vision of dazzling splendour that made his eyes blink — a beautiful glittering figure in tights and tinsel, the prancing prince of pantomime. For an infinitesimal fraction of a second, Frank had the horror of the thought that he had come into the wrong house.
"Good evening, George," the Prince cried: "I had almost given you up."
Great God ! Was the voice, indeed, Lucy's? Frank grasped at the mantel, sick and blind, the world tumbling about his ears. The suspicion that he lacked worldly wis- dom became a certainty. Slowly he turned his head to face the waves of dazzling colour that tossed before his dizzy eyes.
The Prince's outstretched hand dropped suddenly. A startled shriek broke from the painted lips. The re-united lovers stood staring half blindly at each other. More than the Atlantic rolled between them.
Lucy broke the terrible silence.
" Brute ! " ​248 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
It was his welcome home.
" Brute?" he echoed interrogatively, in a low, hoarse whisper.
" Brute and cad ! " said the Prince vehemently, the mu- sical tones strident with anger. " Is this your faith, your loyalty — to sneak back home like a thief — to peep through the keyhole to see if I was a good little girl — ?"
" Lucy ! Don't ! " he interrupted in anguished tones. "As there is a heaven above us, I had no suspicion — "
" But you have now," the Prince interrupted with a bitter laugh. Neither made any attempt to touch the other, though they were but a few inches apart. " Out with it ! "
" Lucy, I have nothing to say against you. How should I? I know nothing. It is for you to speak. For pity's sake tell me all. What is this masquerade?"
"This masquerade? " She touched her pink tights — he shuddered at the touch. "These are — " She paused. Why not tell the easy lie and be done with the whole busi- ness, and marry the dear, devoted boy? But the mad instinct of revolt and resentment swept over her in a flood that dragged the truth from her heart and hurled it at him. " These are the legs of Prince Prettypet. If I am lucky, I shall stand on them in the pantomime of The Enchanted Princess ; or, Harlequin Dick Turpiii, at the Oriental Theatre. The man who has the casting of the part is coming to see how I look."
"You have gone on the stage?"
"Yes; I couldn't live on your lectures," Prince Prettypet said, still in the same resentful tone. " I couldn't fritter away the little capital I had when mamma died, and then wait for starvation. I had no useful accomplishments. I could only recite — Athalie."
" But surely your aunt — " ​THE PRINCIPAL BOY. 249
" Is a fiction. Had she been a fact it would have been all the same. I had had enough of mamma. No more leading-strings !"
" Lucy ! And you wept over her so in your letters? "
" Crocodile's tears. Heavens, are women to have no lives of their own? "
"Oh, why did you not write to me of your difficulties?" he groaned. " I would have come over and fetched you — we would have borne poverty together."
"Yes," the Prince said mockingly. " ' 'E was werry good to me, 'e was.' Do you think I could submit to government by a prig?"
He started as if stung. The little tinselled figure, looking taller in its swashbuckling habits, stared at him defiantly.
"Tell me," he said brokenly, "have you made a living?"
" No. If truth must be told, Lucy Gray — docked at the tail, sir — hasn't made enough to keep Lucy Grayling in theatrical costumes. I got plenty of kudos in the Provinces, but two of my managers were bogus."
"Yes?" he said vaguely.
" No treasury, don't you know? Ghost didn't walk. No oof, rhino, shiners, coin, cash, salary ! "
" Do I understand you have travelled about the country by yourself? "
" By myself ! What, in a company ? You've picked up Irish in America. Ha ! ha ! ha ! "
"You know what I mean, Lucy." It seemed strange to call this new person Lucy, but " Miss Grayling " would have sounded just as strange.
" Oh, there was sure to be a married lady — with her husband — in the troupe, poor thing ! " The Prince had a roguish twinkle in the eye. " And surely I am old enough to take care of myself. Still, I felt you wouldn't like it. ​250 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
That's why I was anxious to get a London appearance — if only in East-end pantomime. The money's safe, and your notices are more valuable. I only want a show to take the town. I do hope George won't disappoint me. I thought you were he."
" Who is George ? " he said slowly, as if in pain.
The shrill clamour of the bell answered him.
"There he is!" said the Prince joyfully. "George is only Georgie Spanner, stage-manager of the Oriental. I have been besieging him for two days. Bella Bright, who had to play Prince Prettypet, has gone and eloped with the property-man, and as soon as I heard of it, I got a letter of introduction to Georgie Spanner, and he said I was too little, and I said that was nonsense — that I had played in bur- lesque at Eastbourne — Come in !"
"Are you at home, miss?" said the maid, putting her head inside the door.
" Certainly, Fanny. That's Mr. Spanner I told you of — " The girl's head looked puzzled as it removed itself. " And so he said if I would put my things on, he would try and run down for an hour this evening, and see if I looked the part."
"And couldn't all that be done at the theatre?"
" Of course it could. But it's ten times more convenient for me here. And it's very considerate of Georgie to come all this way — he's a very busy man, I can tell you."
The street-door slammed loudly.
A sudden paroxysm shook Frank's frame. " Lucy, send this man away — for God's sake." In his excitement he came nearer, he laid his hand pleadingly upon the glittering shoulder. The Prince trembled a little under his touch, and stood as in silent hesitancy. The stairs creaked under
" Go to your room," he said more imperatively. Even in the wreck of his ideal, it was an added bitterness to think that limbs whose shapeliness had never even occurred to him, should be made a public spectacle. " Put on decent clothes."
It was the wrong chord to touch. The Prince burst into a boisterous laugh. " Silly old MacDougall ! "
The footsteps were painfully near.
"You are mad," Frank whispered hoarsely. "You are killing me — you whom I throned as an angel of light ; you who were the first woman in the world — "
"And now I'm going to be the Principal Boy," she laughed quietly back. " Is that you, dear old chap? Come in, George."
The door opened — Frank, disgusted, heart-broken, moved back towards the window-curtains. A corpulent, beef-faced, double-chinned man, with a fat cigar and a fur overcoat, came in.
" How do, Lucy? Cold, eh ? What, in your togs ? That's right."
"There, you bad man ! Don't I look ripping?"
" Stunning, Lucy," he said, approaching her.
" Well, then, down on your knees, George, and apologise for saying I was too little."
" Well, I see more of you now, he ! he ! he ! Yes, you'll do. What swell diggings ! "
" Come to the fire. Take that easy-chair. There, that's right, old man. Now, what is it to be? There's tea laid — you've let it get cold, unpunctual ruffian. Perhaps you'd like a brandy and soda better? "
"M' yes."
She rang the bell. "So glad — because there's only tea for two, and I know my friend would prefer tea," with a ​THE PRINCIPAL BOY. 253
sneering intonation. " Let me introduce you — Mr. Redhill, Mr. Spanner, you have heard of Mr. Spanner, the celebrated author and stage-manager? "
The celebrated author and stage-manager half rose in his easy-chair, startled, and not over-pleased. The pale-faced rival visitor, half hidden in the curtains, inclined his head stiffly, then moved towards the door.
" Oh, no, don't run away like that, without a cup of tea, in this bitter weather. Mr. Spanner won't mind talking business before you, will you, George? Such a dear old friend, you know."
It was a merry tea-party. Lucy rattled away bewitchingly, overpowering Mr. Spanner like an embodied brandy and soda. The slang of the green room and the sporting papers rolled musically off her tongue, grating on Frank's ear like the scraping of slate pencils. He had not insight enough to divine that she was accentuating her vulgar acquirements to torture him. Spanner went at last — for the Oriental boards claimed him — leaving behind him as nearly definite a promise of the part as a stage-manager can ever bring him- self to utter. Lucy accompanied him downstairs. When she returned, Frank was still sitting as she had left him — one hand playing with the spoon in his cup, the rest of the body lethargic, immobile. She bent over him tenderly.
" Frank ! " she whispered.
He shivered and looked up at the lovely face, daubed with rouge and pencilled at the eyebrows with black — as for the edification of the distant "gods." He lowered his eyes again, and said slowly : " Lucy, I have come back to marry you. What date will be most convenient to you?"
" You want to marry me," she echoed in low tones. " All the same ! " A strange wonderful light came into her eyes. The big lashes were threaded with glistening tears. ​254 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
She put her little hand caressingly upon his hair, and was silent.
" Yes ! it is an old promise. It shall be kept."
" Ah ! " She drew her hand away with an inarticulate cry. " Like a duty dance, but you do not love me? "
He ignored the point. " I am rich now — my father has unexpectedly become Lord Redhill — you probably heard it!"
" You don't love me ! You can't love me ! " It sounded like the cry of a soul in despair.
" So there's no need for either of us to earn a living."
" But you don't love me ! You only want to save me."
" Well, of course Lord Redhill wouldn't like his daughter- in-law to be — "
"The Principal Boy — ha! ha! ha! But what — ho! ho ! ho ! I must laugh, Frank, old man, it is so funny — what about the Principal Boy? Do you think he'd cotton to the idea of marrying a peer in embryo ! Not if Lucy Gray knows it ; no, by Jove ! Why, when your coronet came along, I should have to leave the stage, or else people 'ud be saying I couldn't act worth a cent. They'd class me with Lady London and Lady Hansard — oh, Lord ! Fancy me on the Drury Lane bills — Prince Prettypet, Lady Red- hill. And then, great Scot, think whom they'd class you with. Ha ! ha ! ha ! No, my boy, I'm not going to marry a microcephalous idiot. Ho ! ho ! ho ! I wish somebody would put all this in a farce."
" Do I understand that you wish to break off the engage- ment?" Frank said slowly, a note of surprise in his voice.
" You've hit it — now that I hear about this peerage busi- ness — why didn't you tell me before? I'm out of all the gossip of court circles, and it wasn't in the Era. No, I might have redeemed my promise to a commoner, but a ​THE PRINCIPAL BOY. 200
lord, ugh! I never had your sense of duty, Frank, and must really cry ‘quits.’ Now you see the value of secret engage- ments — ours is off, and nobody will be the wiser — or the worse. Now get thee to his lordship — concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, no longer preying upon thy damask cheek. I was alway sorry you had to keep it from the old buffer. But it was for the best, wasn’t it?—-ha! ha!—it was for the best! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!”
Frank fled down the staircase followed by long peals of musical laughter. They followed him into the bleak night, which had no frost for him; but they became less musical as they rang on, and as the terrified maid and the landlady strove in vain to allay the hysterical tempest.
IV.
The Oriental, on Boxing Night, was like a baker’s oven for temperature, and an unopened sardine-barrel for popu- lousness. The East-end had poured its rollicking multitudes into the vast theatre, which seethed over with noisy vitality. There was much traffic in ginger beer, oranges, Banbury cakes, and “bitter.” The great audience roared itself hoarse over old choruses with new words. Lucy Gray, as Prince Prettypet, made an instant success. The mashers of the Oriental ogled her in silent flattery. Her clear elocution, her charming singing voice, her sprightly dancing, her chic, her frank vulgarity, when she “let herself go,” took every heart captive. Every heart, that is, save one, which was filled with sickness and anguish, and covered with a veil of fine linen. The heir of the house of Redhill cowered at the back of the O.P. stage-box — the only place in the house disengaged when he drove up in a mistaken ​256 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
dress-suit. It was the first time he had seen Prince Pretty- pet since the merry tea-party, and he did not know why he was seeing her now. He hoped she did not see him. She pirouetted up to the front of his box pretty often during the evening, and several times hurled ancient wheezes at the riotous funnymen from that coign of vantage. Spoken so near his ear, the vulgar jokes tingled through him like lashes from a whip. Once she sang a chorus, winking in his direction. But that was the business of the song, and im- personal. He saw no sure signs of recognition, and was glad.
When, during the gradual but gorgeous evolution of the Transformation Scene, he received a note from her, he remained glad. It ran, " The bearer will take you behind. I have no one to see me home. Always your friend — Lucy." He went " behind," following his guide through a confusion of coatless carpenters waving torches of blue and green fire from the wings, and gauzy, highly coloured White- chapel girls ensconcing themselves in uncomfortable atti- tudes on wooden pedestals, which were mounting and descending.
Georgie Spanner was bustling about, half crazed, amid a hubbub perfectly inaudible from the front ; but he found time to scowl at Frank, as that gentleman stumbled over the pantaloon and fell against a little iron lever, whose turning might have plunged the stage in darkness. Frank found Lucy in a tiny cellar with whitewashed walls and a rough counter, on which stood a tin basin and a litter of " make up" materials. She had " changed " before he came. It was the first time for years he had seen her in her true womanly envelope. Assuredly she had grown far lovelier, and her face was flushed with triumph ; otherwise it was the old Lucy. The Prince was washed off with the paint. ​Frank's eyes filled with tears. How hard he had been on her! Nay, had he not misjudged her? She looked so frail, so little, so childish, what guile could she know? It
was all mere surface-froth on her lips! How narrow to set up his life, his ideals, as models, patterns! The poor little thing had her own tastes, her own individuality! How hard she worked to earn her own living! He bent down and kissed her forehead, remorsefully, as one might kiss an over​258 THE PRINCIPAL BOY.
scolded child. She drew his head down lower and kissed him — passionately — on the lips. " Let us wait a little," she said, as he spoke of sending for a hansom. " Sloman, the lessee, gives a little supper on the stage after the show — he'll be annoyed if I don't stay. He'll he delighted to have you."
The pantomime had gone better than anyone had ex- pected. It had been insufficiently rehearsed, and though everybody had said " it'll be all right at night " — in the immemorial phrase of the profession — they had said it more automatically than confidently. Consequently every- one was in high feather, and agreeably surprised at the accuracy of the prophesying. Even Georgie Spanner ceased to scowl under the genial influences of success and Sloman's very decent champagne. The air was full of laughter and gaiety, and everybody (except the clown) cracked jokes. The leading ladies made themselves pleasant, and did not swear. Everybody seemed to have acquired a new respect for Lucy, seeing her with such a real Belgravian swell. Probably she would soon have a theatre of her own.
It was the Prig's first excursion into Bohemia, and he thought the natives very civil-spoken, naive, and cordial. Frank had no doubt now that Lucy was right, that he was a Prig to want to redeem mankind. And the conviction that he lacked worldly wisdom was sealed for aye.
V.
So he married her.
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