"Then let him go through with it. It's no affair of mine. After all,
your father's affairs don't concern me. It would be impertinent of
me to introduce myself into them."
"They don't concern _me_ very much," said Alvina.
"You're different. You're his daughter. He's no connection of mine,
I'm glad to say. I pity your mother."
"Oh, but he was always alike," said Alvina.
"That's where it is," said Miss Pinnegar.
There was something fatal about her feelings. Once they had gone
cold, they would never warm up again. As well try to warm up a
frozen mouse. It only putrifies.
But poor Miss Pinnegar after this looked older, and seemed to get a
little round-backed. And the things she said reminded Alvina so
often of Miss Frost.
James fluttered into conversation with his daughter the next
evening, after Miss Pinnegar had retired.
"I told you I had bought a cinematograph building," said James. "We
are negotiating for the machinery now: the dynamo and so on."
"But where is it to be?" asked Alvina.
"Down at Lumley. I'll take you and show you the site tomorrow. The
building--it is a frame-section travelling theatre--will arrive on
Thursday--next Thursday."
"But who is in with you, father?"
"I am quite alone--quite alone," said James Houghton. "I have found
an excellent manager, who knows the whole business thoroughly--a Mr.
May. Very nice man. Very nice man."
"Rather short and dressed in grey?"
"Yes. And I have been thinking--if Miss Pinnegar will take the cash
and issue tickets: if she will take over the ticket-office: and you
will play the piano: and if Mr. May learns the control of the
machine--he is having lessons now--: and if I am the indoors
attendant, we shan't need any more staff."
"Miss Pinnegar won't take the cash, father."
"Why not? Why not?"
"I can't say why not. But she won't do anything--and if I were you I
wouldn't ask her."
There was a pause.
"Oh, well," said James, huffy. "She isn't indispensable."
And Alvina was to play the piano! Here was a blow for her! She
hurried off to her bedroom to laugh and cry at once. She just saw
herself at that piano, banging off the _Merry Widow Waltz_, and, in
tender moments, _The Rosary_. Time after time, _The Rosary_. While
the pictures flickered and the audience gave shouts and some grubby
boy called "Chot-let, penny a bar! Chot-let, penny a bar! Chot-let,
penny a bar!" away she banged at another tune.
What a sight for the gods! She burst out laughing. And at the same
time, she thought of her mother and Miss Frost, and she cried as if
her heart would break. And then all kinds of comic and incongruous
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