The next days were productive of constant bustle and amusement
for the actors, even if others of the party felt only boredom and
inconvenience. Elinor was against the whole scheme. It was taking up
time which could have been more rationally employed. The performance
was sure to be inferior, and the weather would probably be bad. The
gentlemen were all too busy to fish with Edward, and she herself was
pressed into service to help with the arrangement of the dresses. They
had come to Barton hoping for some rest and refreshment, and found
themselves in all this turmoil. It was true that there was no one at
liberty to entertain Edward Ferrars, and it was fortunate that he was
much more fond of his own society than that of any other creature
with the exception of his wife, and possibly of his brother-in-law,
Colonel Brandon, so did not feel this to be an evil. His stay at Barton
must necessarily be short. He had only arranged for his duty to be
taken for one Sunday, and he must return to his parish. Elinor was
to stay on. This had not been part of the original plan, but there
were several reasons for the decision. Young Master Ferrars was safely
established at the mansion-house at Delaford under the care of Marianne
and the nurse who attended to Master Brandon. Edward himself wished
his wife to have the pleasure of a longer stay with her mother. Elinor
was convinced that she could be of use at Barton in discouraging in
Mrs. Dashwood any inclination to take a romantic view of Commander
Pennington’s advances. She was not without hope of exercising a wise
influence on Margaret. Edward was very much against her attempting
any such thing, and gave it as his opinion that no good came of
interference; but Elinor would not allow that wise suggestion could be
classed as interference, and she reminded Edward that he himself had
experienced the folly and misery of a premature love affair. All of
which was moderately convincing to Edward, and entirely so to Elinor
herself. She would stay on till the early days of September, for Sir
John Middleton was then to join Colonel Brandon at Delaford for some
shooting, and would take her in his carriage all the way. Margaret was
glad that her mother had her sister’s company while she herself was so
much engaged with the theatricals, and did not connect her prolonged
visit with any of her own hopes or desires.
In addition to the pleasure of having Elinor with her, Mrs. Dashwood
was very well amused by the theatricals. Margaret brought her so
entertaining a description of all that went on that to the pleasure of
listening to a lively recital was added the happiness of hoping that
the impression made by Commander Pennington on Margaret’s mind was fast
fading away. She looked so happy and cheerful that it was reasonable to
suppose her heart-free. It was not in Mrs. Dashwood’s nature to fear
when it was possible to hope.
Margaret was, in fact, enjoying the theatricals excessively. It was
essential to her happiness at present to have every moment of the day
occupied. Thinking did not suit her at all. Too soon thinking gave
way to longing, and longing to unreasonable fears. She was better
employed in learning her lines, practising her song, making her dress
and helping the other members of the party to do the same. She had
not a long part herself, and for this reason she was in constant
demand to hear others recite theirs. The offer to hear hers in return
could always be made, with small risk of acceptance. Walter Carey in
particular found no one so kind and inspiring.
Sir John and Miss Steele had no concern but their dresses, which were
to be as gay and fantastic as possible, and the five children had to
be fitted with masks and taught some sort of order in their disorderly
rout, that they might not hurt themselves or each other.
Walter was a careless stage-manager, inclined to think that everything
would settle itself, and that the chief parts were all that concerned
him. But, if the play was to be anything but an absurdity, these minor
matters must receive attention, and there was no one so suited for the
task or so willing to be employed as Margaret. In everything she was
ably assisted by the Careys’ governess, Miss Fairfield, who had her
own little charges well in hand, and through them was able to exercise
some sort of control over the little Middletons, who were constantly
surprising themselves by doing what they were told.
Lady Middleton was concerned as to who should and who should not be
asked to view the performance--the task of selection being made no
easier by Sir John inviting every one he met--and also as to what
should be the nature of the refreshment to be provided. She could not
be satisfied with anything short of complete elegance, and, on asking
Walter Carey how this had been managed at Oxford, was disgusted to hear
that he thought there had been something handed round. Perhaps some
beer or cider. He was not sure!
Mrs. Jennings thought it all rather tedious. She could not find that
there was a word of love in the play from beginning to end. It was
all long speeches and brothers going about after their sister. Such
foolishness! The speeches had been severely cut down, they said, but
they were still a great deal too long to her mind, and not what anyone
would say. Very different from Mr. Sheridan’s plays, where you could
think it was yourself talking half the time! She thought they would all
have enjoyed a few balls and picnics much more than all this solemn
saying of poetry over to each other in corners. She had given her old
red satin to Nancy Steele to make a good appearance in the rout, but
beyond that she could not find anything to do to help, and she thought
they had best get on without her. She would sit by Mrs. Ferrars in the
audience and quiz them all with her and Mrs. Dashwood.
Perhaps the children were more completely happy than anyone. Their
part was just to make a noise and wear queer dresses, and, if children
cannot be pleased with that, they are very strange children indeed,
and, though Lady Middleton might believe hers to be exceptional, they
proved themselves in this to be very like the little Careys.
As to the rest of the company, the Lady and Comus were thoroughly
pleased with their own parts, though often despondent about the
others. The Brothers were sometimes assailed by doubts. Did they, in
fact, look as much like two young men as they hoped? Henry Whitaker
found his part of attendant Spirit very hard stuff to learn, Sir John
occasionally had a hankering after the part of Comus, who had some very
good things to say, and Miss Nancy Steele was not always sure that
even wearing red satin made a member of the rout one of the principal
figures in the play.
Margaret’s task was to encourage all these, to keep some control over
the rout, to advise the Careys’ governess as to the music, and to be
sure that Mr. Atherton had his prompter’s copy correctly marked with
cuts and pauses.