The Greatest Works of E. M. Delafield (Illustrated Edition). E. M. Delafield
Читать онлайн книгу.
view. Even the perfunctory game of Loto, which was played almost every night when the children came down to the drawing-room after dinner, was not suggested..
Mr. Lloyd-Evans sat over-the evening .paper with his profoundest ail-'of dejection;'James lounged unwillingly on the sofa to which his mother had silently beckoned him beside her; Muriel, seated on the hearthrug, looked gloomily into the fire; and Zella sat in an arm-chair wishing that Aunt Marianne were not certain to think reading a book in the drawing-room unsociable and ill-mannered.
Presently Mr. Lloyd-Evans put down his paper, looked uncomfortably round at his speechless family, and began to ask James perfunctory questions as to his journey.
The sympathetic Zella, intensely aware of the feeling that had caused Uncle Henry to break the silence, was emboldened to say:
"Shan't we do something? Why don't you play your new piece, Muriel?"
James and his father welcomed the suggestion so heartily that Mrs. Lloyd-Evans's weighty silence was overborne.
"I'll do your accompaniment," said James with unwonted amiability. His mother's low-toned "That's right, dear: my good boy, to make a little effort !" sent him scowling to the piano, which he opened with a bang that made everybody jump, and elicited from his mother a sigh and a murmur of Jimmy ! Jimmy!"
Zella knew that her cousin was considered musical, but had never heard him play, nor did his accompaniment to Muriel's " Chaconne " seem to her in any way remarkable.
She played the piano herself, and would have liked to perform in the drawing-room; but Aunt Marianne had said that she quite understood Zella would not want to do any music just at present, so the suggestion had never been made.
When the "Chaconne" had been duly applauded, Mrs. Lloyd-Evans said: "Muriel dear, can you play that pretty Viennoise of Kreisler that mother is so fond of?"
"I've learnt it," Muriel replied doubtfully, "but Monsieur Piré.says.it is. too.difficult.for me."
"So it is," said James flatly.
"Nonsense, darling!' You can play it very nicely. I should hear in a moment if there were any wrong notes; I have a very good ear,". said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans firmly.
James got up from the piano.
"Sit down again, Jimmy, and play the Kreisler with Muriel."
"I can't play it."
"Oh, James, you can !" cried Muriel in perfect good faith. "I've heard you play that very accompaniment in the schoolroom, only putting in all the fiddle part with your right hand."
James looked furious.
Muriel found the music, put her own part on the stand, and handed the accompaniment timidly to her brother.
"I tell you I can't play it."
"James, why are you so cross ?" said Muriel, wholly perplexed, but speaking under her breath lest her mother should hear.
"I'm not cross, idiot," muttered James; "but I know I can't play the beastly thing, any more than you can. If you'd heard Kreisler play it, as I have, you wouldn't want to try."
"Of course I know I can't play it as well as he can." began Muriel, utterly bewildered.
Zella, who had been summoning up all her courage for the last few seconds, said with a beating heart: "Shall I try it, Muriel?" "But you don't know it, do you?" "I can read music," said Zella eagerly. She was exceedingly proud of her ability to read music at sight, and longed for an opportunity of showing her relatives that she also was not ungifted. But Mrs. Lloyd-Evans
said very decidedly:?
"Nonsense, dear! I expect it is much too difficult for you to read without a great many wrong notes, which Aunt Marianne wouldn't like at all; and, besides, you haven't been practising lately, and one ought never to play a piece unless one has been having a good hour of scales and exercises first."
Zella flushed scarlet.
"I can read anything," she muttered defiantly and with some elasticity of statement.
"Don't boast, dear; it is a very bad habit, and not quite truthful, either," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans placidly.
"Now, Muriel. Are you ready, dear ?"
"I can't play it," James once more remarked obstinately.
Mrs. Lloyd-Evans gave her husband the look which he knew to mean that there are moments when the authority of a gentleman is needed to supplement a mother's influence.
He cleared his throat nervously and said: "Come, come, my boy. We don't pay extra for your piano lessons only to hear that you can't play a piece which your little cousin says she could manage at first sight."
The remark, intended facetiously, roused Zella's wrath as well as James's, but the latter only said gruffly, "Come on, then, Muriel," and opened the music.
Muriel was nervous, and played worse than usual. Her brother kept down the loud pedal throughout, and released it with a bang as he crashed on to the final chord.
"There! you see it wasn't so difficult. You would play it quite nicely with a little practice," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans.
"I think I was a little out of tune," murmured Muriel nervously.
"About time you found it out too," was James's muttered comment, as he flung himself into a chair next to Zella's.
"Are you fond of music ?" she asked in an undertone. "Yes/' he said briefly. "Not that sort, though." "That wasn't music," Zella remarked calmly. He hoped to excite in making the remark.
It certainly wasn't. I say, do you play a lot?"
"A good deal," said Zella easily.
"Why haven't you played to us ?"
"I—I haven't been practising. Besides," she could not resist adding, " I haven't been asked."
"I'd have asked you fast enough, if I'd known you were any good. It's too late now, just when I'm going away."
"Are you sorry you're going?" she asked, half mischievously.
"No," said James gruffly. "It's heresy to say so, of course. Home, sweet Home, and all the rest of the sickening tosh. As a matter of fact, Harrow's a very decent place, though they're a bit too keen on games for my taste."
"Oh," cried Zella eagerly, "I do so agree with you. I hate games."
"Girls' games are rot, anyhow," said the mannerless James.
"Yes, I suppose they are."
Zella's idea of making herself agreeable at this time was to agree with any and every opinion offered her.
looked at her with the renewed
"Zella," said her Aunt Marianne's voice, "it is bedtime, dear. Run along with Muriel."
It was a cause of never-ending resentment to Zella that her aunt should so frequently tell her to "run."
She rose very slowly, said her good-nights, and moved towards the door with some dignity.
"Don't dawdle like that, dear," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans. "Jimmy, you must stop and have a little talk with father and mother, as it is your last evening."
The next morning James went back to school, and Muriel's governess, Miss Vincent, returned to her duties.
Zella missed James, in whom she thought she had detected occasional flashes of a kindred spirit, and the monotonous life of regular lessons for her and Muriel seemed unutterably dreary to the spoilt little only child.
Her lessons at Villetswood had been an occasional hour of French reading with her father, music with her mother, and two hours' English in the morning under the tuition of the Rector's admiring daughter, whose nearest approach to criticism had always been, "You know, Zella dear, you have very great abilities, if you would make the best of them."
Miss Vincent made no mention whatever of Zella's abilities, but