"I do," he said. "You need not speak of this matter to anyone. I mean
to stick to you. You are sure to make a mark. You are sure to make
money. And, look here, I say, you know it isn't my money that's going
into this speculation, and I have a little money of my own. Never be
hard up for a fiver. We like your wife, your boy, and yourself; and by
gad, sir, we mean that you shall be a success."
O'Donnell went home in the highest spirits. That very day he and his
wife set out house-hunting, and within a week they were settled in a
little semi-detached house in Cecil Street, Hoxton. Among the
furniture there was, of course, a piano, and O'Donnell felt
unexpectedly relieved to be able, as he expressed it, to shout and
hammer the keys against the detached wall of his own house, where
there was no fear of disturbing lodgers or neighbours.
Here, with his wife and child, and the old and faithful nurse who had
looked after him when he was a child, he felt as though life was
opening afresh to him, and as if there was more sunshine in the air
than ever he had noticed before.
"The first thing we have to do, Nellie, is to get the Frasers and
Dominique here to dinner, on the earliest day possible. Of course I
should never have known Fraser but for Dominique; and, indeed, half my
good luck at the Oberon, or more than half, is due to Lavirotte."
So it was arranged that on the first Saturday after the O'Donnells
were settled in their home, the Frasers and Lavirotte should dine with
them.
The dinner passed off in the pleasantest manner. Mark dined at the
table, and Lavirotte insisted on attending to the boy and giving him
all the delicacies he could filch, to the great jealousy of Mrs.
Fraser, who had taken an extraordinary liking to the mother and child.
Lavirotte seemed in better spirits and health than of late. He was
quite cheerful, quite amusing. He made pretty compliments to the
women, said good-humoured, whimsical, blunt things to the men, and
when dinner was over and the men were alone, he threw himself into a
chair and declared he had not enjoyed any little dinner so much, for a
century.
"You know, Eugene, I was best man at your marriage, and godfather to
your boy, and I really think I have forgotten my duty towards him. I
never gave him a knife and fork, or even a mug. It was beastly
neglectful of me. I feel in the best of spirits to-day. Wasn't I in
good voice at the rehearsal?"
"Capital!" said both men. "Nothing could have been better."
"You'll bring down the house, Lavirotte," cried Eugene.
"I shall do my very best," said Lavirotte. "I think my health has
greatly improved within the past fortnight or so. I have not felt that
old sensation of faintness, and going up and down the stairs to my
eyrie does not distress me as it used. By Jove, Eugene, I feel as well
as before that terrible time in the tower. No, I won't have any more.
I'll go and look after my boy." Lavirotte left the room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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