Beggars May Sing

by Sara Seale

  Nancy went with her. "It's nearly four, I've had enough," she said. There was a faint respect in her eyes as she looked at Gina, but she couldn't help saying "That was silly, Gina. You might have really hurt your-self."

  "I might, but I didn't," said Gina shortly.

  "Have you heard from Evan lately?" asked Nancy.

  "Why should I? We never write to each other."

  "Oh, don't you? He writes a lot to me. He's coming down this week-end."

  "Is he?"

  "Um. I expect he'll come over and see you on Sunday. You're such friends, aren't you? He may take me in to dance 'at Eastcliff on Saturday night. Evan's a divine dancer."

  Gina ground her teeth silently. The Sprat was an abominable piece of work. Gina was aware that Evan had had her up for May Week in June. Nancy hadn't let anyone forget it in Westham Street for weeks after.

  "My dear child, you're filthy!" Julie exclaimed when Gina got home.

  "Yes, I fell off," she replied, limping stiffly across the hall. "Can I have my tea before I change, if I take off my boots, Julie? I want to lie for hours in a bath."

  "All right. Tea's just coming now," Julie said, and went into the drawing-room. Since that unfortunate week-end, their relations had been a little easier. At first, there was an obvious strain. Gina was uncomfortable and Julie uncompromising. But she clearly did not mean to allude to the incident again, and gradually the awkwardness went out of their respective attitudes. Gina frequently wondered what had passed between Julie and Mark, but she was certain that her stepmother would have left Victor out of any discussion she may have had with her brother. She also wondered what Julie and Victor had said to one another about the affair. She was never sure if Julie had had it out with him, or had decided to ignore the whole business. Swann had departed the next morning before Gina came down for breakfast.

  She got Sweeny to pull her boots off for her, and followed Julie into the drawing-room. "This is the best part of hunting," she said with conviction as she tackled a boiled egg. "I'm going to be stiff tomorrow. Where's Sebastian?"

  "I haven't seen him all day." Julie paused, then said impulsively, "I'm a bit worried, Gina. Sebastian ought to be working hard now till he goes up for his scholarship. There's not much more than another three weeks left."

  "I know. Time's getting awfully short," Gina agreed.

  "I think you do understand how very important it is for him to succeed this time," Julie went on. "But I can't impress it on Sebastian. He only laughs and says what does it matter. But Mark cannot afford to send him to Oxford entirely unaided, and I don't know what he's to do if he stays here."

  "I don't see that we can do more than we do," Gina said slowly. "I've been at him on and off all the time. But you can't go at him too much. It does harm in the end."

  "If you can get him to look at it from Mark's point of view," said Julie, "it might help. He can't do much himself, now he's back in town."

  "All right," Gina said rather doubtfully, and cracked the top of her second egg.

  But when she came to tackle her brother, she realized almost at once that it would have been better had she let him alone.

  "It's all very well for you, Ginny, you only have to look on," he said resentfully. "You don't have to sweat over these damn fool kid's lessons as though you were back at school, neither do you have to contemplate the deadly prospect of learning how to be a little gent at one of England's great universities."

  "Well, it isn't as bad as you make out," said Gina impatiently. "After all, you'll be kept for nothing. You don't have to work hard, and you can go on composing to your heart's content."

  "It isn't that. It's the principle of the thing. We shouldn't be yoked to authority, as I've told you before. What right has Mark to arrange our futures for us in his lordly way?"

  "He hasn't arranged mine."

  "You bet he has. He's got something all nicely fixed up for little Gina. Probably a good sensible marriage."

  "He doesn't want me to marry in a hurry. He said so. Though I suppose in all decency I shall have to get my-self off Julie's hands," she remarked gloomily. "Anyway, he has a certain claim on us, Sebastian. After all, he keeps us."

  "And why the devil shouldn't he?" demanded Sebastian in exasperated tones. "I keep telling you he's got money and we haven't. He hasn't got a wife, or any children. What harm do we do him?"

  "But can't you see that he needn't do it? It's just his generosity—because we're Julie's dependents. So he makes us his dependents too," cried Gina, with a bitter note creeping into her voice to match the cut of her young mouth. She had thrust out her chin, and was frowning, and her red hair stood on end from the agitated workings of her restive hands.

  "Now you look like a witch," said Sebastian unkindly. "A horrid, moral, nagging little witch."

  It was so seldom that he spoke to her in this vein that her eyes filled with quick tears. "That's beastly of you," she retorted. "I'm only trying to put the case clearly."

  "Whose case? Mark's, of course. You listen to Mark 'a great deal more than you used to," said Sebastian calculatingly. "How has he got at you? By means of his fatal attraction?"

  "What a rotten thing to say!" she cried, clenching her hands. "If you can't see that you're behaving meanly, you needn't try and head me off with foul suggestions like that." She marched out of the room and banged the door, and Sebastian, already feeling a little ashamed of himself, laughed defiantly.

  III

  Half an hour later they made it up.

  "Darling Ginny, I was only teasing you—I didn't mean In he foul," Sebastian pleaded.

  "And I didn't mean to nag. I do want you to pass, Sebastian."

  "All right then, I will. Take me as having passed."

  Sebastian went in search of his books, and Gina went happily to bed, where she laid her aching limbs in thankfulness that the day was over at last.

  But the end of the week found Sebastian 'as restive as ever, and Mark, arriving on Friday night, did not improve the position by taking him sharply to task. "Pompous high-falutin fool," Sebastian burst out to Gina after the interview. "These English can think of nothing but money."

  Gina was brushing Dogsbody on Saturday morning, when the Hunters' car drew up at the gate and Evan came running into the yard.

  "Hullo, Gina! It's good to see you again!" he exclaimed whole-heartedly.

  "Evan!" She sprang to her feet at the first sight of his familiar good-looking young face, and he took both her hands in his. "Jove, you do look well," he said with faint astonishment, looking her up and down, and Gina knew that looking well in Evan's eyes meant looking attractive.

  "Oh, of course, you haven't seen me since my grooming process has taken place," she laughed. "I'm not looking my best now, but when I'm wearing all my finery, I'm formidable, I tell you."

  "I'm sure you must be. Look here, I wondered if you'd come and dance in Eastcliff tonight. You know, the old

  Saturday night hotel hops they have. It might be quite amusing," he said.

  She looked at him, eyes aslant, wondering shrewdly whether he had come over especially to ask her that, or whether he had only just thought of it.

  "I'd love it," she said simply. "Wait till I ask Julie if you can come and dine first."

  She took special pains with her appearance that night. She was excited, and she brushed her short hair until it shone like fire, and curled brightly about her small head. Lipstick—a dash of scent behind the ears, the last twistings before the long mirror, and she was ready. She caught up a little embroidered bag, and ran downstairs.

  Evan was talking to Mark when she appeared, and he' stopped for a perceptible moment while he watched her cross the hall, then turned back to Mark with an obvious effort.

  Gina looked vivid enough in her full green taffeta frock, with her flaming head 'and brilliant eyes. Mark watched her with interest through dinner, as she thrust and parried with Evan, who was not nearly quick enough for her, and thought of that evening in his stud}': Gina, a dis
tracted, frightened child, sobbing her heart out in his arms: Gina saying quaintly, "I wish I didn't look quite so frightful for our champagne party": Julie's bitter "If you fall in love with that girl, Mark, you'll be a bigger fool than I was." And now—the young Gina, aware at last of her charm, using it delicately for Evan, her agile mind leaping from peak to peak with true Celtic quickness. His strong fingers suddenly gripped the fine stem of his wineglass with a fierce pressure, and, with a little ping! it snapped. The wine spilled over the polished table in a glowing amber stream, and Julie said quickly:

  "Oh, Mark, how on earth did you do it?"

  At the Eastcliff hotel, where they danced, Evan and Gina found Nancy Pratt, who, for once, blushed scarlet at the sight of them. She had waited until the last minute for Evan's unforthcoming invitation, which had resulted in her having to fall back on a much less attractive escort. She looked daggers at Gina, the dimples undisplayed for once, and after a greeting of joyous surprise to Evan turned back to Gina and said:

  "I'm so glad you're all right after Tuesday. Did the mare have a sore back when you got home?"

  But Gina was beyond Nancy's little shafts. She knew what she was feeling at heart. It was only added balm, when Evan, releasing her after their first dance, said warmly,

  "How well you dance, Gina. I'd no idea. You know, to look at Nancy you'd think she was like a piece of thistledown, but the odd part of it is she can't dance. It was rather a let-down when I discovered that at the Trinity Ball."

  The evening was an entire success. They danced every dance untiringly. Their steps fitted admirably, and Evan, who was not too tall, was a comfortable partner for her. The band played The Merry Widow and Daisy Bell, and they whirled faster than anyone, Gina giddy and laughing, her wide green skirts flying out around her.

  "Oh, what fun!" she gasped, as the music stopped, and they sank exhausted upon two chairs.

  When it was time to go, they passed Nancy waiting in the lounge for her escort.

  "Oh, Evan—when am I going to see you?" she asked, stopping him. She was smart, and absurdly pretty in her white frock and a little white fur jacket with a huge stand-up collar. Evan smiled down 'at her.

  "I'll be over tomorrow, sometime," he promised.

  "Good. Perhaps you might come to supper. Ring up in the morning."

  "Well, I'm not sure—I'll let you know. Thanks 'awfully, though." He piloted Gina out to the car, saying carelessly, "Awfully pretty, isn't she?"

  Gina joyously sniffed the salt-tanged air as they drove along the front, and settled down happily and a little drowsily in the warmth of the car for the long drive back. This was fun. This was being alive. She glanced up at Evan's golden profile against his dark turned-up collar, and snuggled into Julie's fur coat, borrowed for the occasion.

  IV

  The week-end passed quickly enough for Gina, since Evan appeared early the next morning, and carried her off for the day in his car. But to Sebastian, Sunday was interminable. He spent the morning working under the supervision of Mark, who appeared to be particularly abrupt and down on him that day and finished up by giving him another strong talking-to, which ended with the boy slamming out of the room, and out of the house, and not returning till night.

  On Monday mornings, someone had to drive Mark to the station. This was generally Sweeny's office, but if his other duties happened to call him elsewhere, cither Gina or Sebastian would go. On this particular Monday, Mark knocked on Gina's door and asked her if she would mind going, as there was no one else. Gina, who had been drowsily waiting for the gong to ring, hurriedly leapt out of bed, and flung on her clothes as quickly as she was able. There was no time for either facial adornment on breakfast, and she seized the first coat that came to hand and rushed out to the garage to fetch the car.

  "Sorry, Gina," Mark said apologetically as he came out of the house. "I'd have rung up for a taxi, if I'd known you were still in bed! Thanks, I'll drive myself. You can smash the car up on the way home!" Gina's driving had long been considered a joke, and she moved into the other seat with a little laugh.

  He had scarcely seen anything of her this week-end. He glanced at her now, bare-headed, the wind blowing her red hair back from her ears, leaving her face sharp and elf-like.

  "Enjoy your week-end?" he asked casually.

  "Um."

  "Young Hunter's good-looking."

  "Um."

  "Lost your heart to him, Gina?" He surprised a faint blush at this, then she answered slowly and without turning her face.

  He is so beautiful to look at. Really beautiful, I mean, in the way a statue is. I can never resist beautiful things."

  He was silenced by her reply, so genuine, so unexpected it had been. Nine girls out of ten would have accompanied that blush with a prompt: "Of course not. How silly you are!" It was only later on that he realized that he still hadn't learnt what he wanted from her answer.

  "Don't let that brother of yours slack at this eleventh hour," he said. "I depend on you to get him through."

  She turned then, and her tilted eyes were suddenly distressed. "Oh, Mark, I have tried," she said earnestly. "Julie talked to me during the week about it and I spoke to Sebastian, but we only succeeded in quarrelling. I don't want him to let you down. I'm as keen as you are for him to get through. I realize, from your point of view, how necessary it is." She remembered him comforting her in her distress, and felt again the sharp intimacy of that evening together. "You are so good to us both. I do appreciate it."

  "Don't, for heaven's sake, always feel this awful weight of obligation," he said a little gruffly. "I don't want you of all people to feel beholden to me."

  It was 'a word she had so often used herself in connection with him that she was silent, and glancing at his dark profile she thought he looked tired and a little sad.

  "Mark, I wish I could do something for you," she said impulsively. "I wish I could give you something. But I haven't anything to give."

  He found that he couldn't meet her eyes just then, but he said with a simple rush of gratitude which touched her sharply, "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, Gina. Thank you." Then he added in his more usual tones, "I haven't done anything for you, after all."

  She smiled at him. "You're always doing things for me," she said, and resolved, with a fierceness which rushed suddenly over her, that Sebastian should be made to work whatever happened. Mark could not be disappointed when he took such a real, uncalled-for interest in them.

  In the train, he leant out of the window and bade her good-bye. "Many thanks for turning out. Go carefully on the way back, Gina. Don't take risks. And eat a good breakfast when you get in."

  Gina drove home, filled with a burning championship for Mark, and nearly collided with Sebastian, who was turning out of the drive-gates at full gallop in the donkey-cart.

  "Where are you going?" she shouted.

  "Never you mind," replied Sebastian, his green eyes dancing. "I'm off for a grand spree. Back the car so I can get past."

  "How long will you be gone?" demanded Gina, paying no attention.

  "How do I know? All day, all night—I can't tell."

  "Aren't you going to do any work then?"

  "Work?"

  "Sebastian, I do think it's foul of you, as soon as Mark's back is turned—"

  "Blast! Why do you always drag in the Judge? As if he wasn't bad enough when he was here. I slaved all yesterday."

  "Only in the morning. Anyway, it has to be done. It's not very long now."

  "Who says it has to be done? Oh, chuck it, Ginny, and back the car."

  Gina settled herself firmly at the wheel. "I won't," she said, thrusting out her chin. "If I have to sit here all day, I won't till you take back the ass and get to work."

  Sebastian looked at his sister sharply, then his temper flared up. "Get to blazes out of here!" he shouted.

  "Get to blazes out of it yourself!" she shouted back.

  Sebastian sprang out of the cart and rushed at his sister.<
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  "I'll make you get out! I'll make you get out!" he yelled, seizing her by the shoulders and shaking her. She clutched at his thick hair and tugged, now as angry as he.

  "Leave me alone, you nasty little pimp!" she screamed. "Take your dirty hands off me! Go back to your cousin the ass!"

  At this moment, attracted by the noise, Julie, closely followed by Sweeny, came hurrying from the house.

  "Gina! Sebastian! Have you gone mad?" Julie exclaimed. "Come in at once, and stop quarrelling. Do you want every passer-by to hear what you're saying?"

  They released each other and turned glowering faces upon Julie, which so exactly resembled each other for the moment that she had to laugh.

  "Take the car back to the garage, Gina, please," she said. "What were you doing with the donkey-cart, Sebastian? You've got to work today, you know. No slacking for the next fortnight. Put her back in the paddock, Sweeny."

  Sebastian followed his stepmother into the house. He was white with rage, and without a word to Julie he rushed upstairs, and locked himself into his room. Gina came in from the garage and went into the dining room. !o eat some belated breakfast. She too was white, and her green eyes blazed. She splashed some coffee into a cup and banged it down beside her plate.

  "Really, Gina, you're both too old to behave like this," said Julie, standing in the doorway and watching her. "You so seldom quarrel. What happened?"

  "Nothing," said Gina briefly, and with a slight shrug Julie left her.

  Sebastian was not to be seen all day, and Julie, knowing he was shut in his bedroom, left him alone, hoping that he might after all have come to his senses and be working. But when dinner was ready and he still didn't appear, she became annoyed.

  "He can't go on behaving like this," she said. "It's too absurd. He must come down and eat a proper meal. Run up and fetch him, Gina."