PREPARATIONS FOR AN IMPORTANT EVENT.
The coldness between uncle Bryan and Jessie did not diminish with
time. As a matter of necessity they were compelled to speak to each
other occasionally, but they did so with coldness and reluctance, and
a distinct avoidance of the subject which had broken the bond between
them. I say that they were compelled to speak to each other as a
matter of necessity, but I may be mistaken; they may have spoken not
out of consideration for themselves, but for my mother. Thinking over
the matter since that time, I have understood how those two, if they
had been alone, might have lived in the same house for years, and
might have performed their separate duties conscientiously, without a
word passing between them. For the sake of peace Jessie would have
yielded, but uncle Bryan would have remained implacable. Results
proved this. In vain did my mother strive to bring them together in a
more amiable spirit; in vain did she speak separately to each of the
other's good qualities, magnifying their merits, ignoring their
faults. Her labour upon uncle Bryan was entirely lost; but it was
different with Jessie, not because she thought she was wrong, nor for
uncle Bryan's sake, but out of her love for my mother.
'You are a child, my dear,' said my mother to her, 'and he is an old
man. If for that reason alone, you should yield.'
'It would be useless,' was Jessie's rejoinder; 'I have known him for a
much shorter time than you, but I know his nature better than you do.
I judge of it by my own.'
'You do both him and yourself injustice, my dear,' pleaded the
peacemaker; 'if he were all wrong and you were all right, it would be
your duty to give in.'
'Love and duty do not always go together,' said Jessie obstinately.
'But we must make sacrifices, my child; what a miserable thing this
life would be if some of us did not yield!'
'If I thought,' said Jessie, softening, 'that I should not be insulted
I would do as you wish willingly, most willingly--not for my sake, but
for yours.'
'Try, then, for my sake.'
'I will; and you will see what will come of it.'
And Jessie tried, in her best manner and in good faith, with the
result for which she was prepared.
'Can you not see now how it is?' she asked, with tears in her eyes. 'I
have brought trouble into this house. How much better would it have
been for you if I had never entered it! But it wasn't my fault. Ah, if
I were a man I wouldn't stop in it for another hour! But I have no
friends; and if it were not that I love to live, I might wish that I
had never been born.'
'Then you do not regard me as a friend, my dear child?'
But Jessie, with cruel determination, refused to respond to the tender
appeal, and turned rebelliously away. All this I learnt from my
mother, who hid nothing from me, and it did not tend to make me
happier.
'Be patient, my darling,' my mother said; 'all will come right in the
end.'
'Did anything ever come right with uncle Bryan?' I fretfully asked.
'Think of the story he told us! I remember too well what you said when
I asked if you would have me look on things as he does. You said it
would take all the sweetness out of my life; and you were right. He
has taken the sweetness out of it already.'
I did not consider that it was the very refinement of cruelty to bring
her own words in judgment against herself. On such occasions she would
tremble from sheer helplessness; but with unwearied patience she would
strengthen her soul, and strive, and strive, for ever with the same
result. So wrapt was I in my own unhappiness, that it was only by fits
and starts I gave a thought to hers; even that she was growing thinner
and more sad, with this inward conflict of her affections, escaped me.
Others saw it, but at that time the selfishness of my own grief made
me blind.
But there were bright spots in my life during these days, even in the
midst of these unhappy differences, in every one of which Jessie was
the central figure. All that seemed to me worth living for was centred
in Jessie; and she was never absent from my mind. She passed nearly
the whole of her time with the Wests now--naturally enough, finding so
little comfort at home--and as I was not happy out of her society, all
my leisure was spent with her. This circumstance was introduced
unpremeditatedly one evening when Jessie and I were preparing to go
out. My mother, to tempt us to stop at home, had promised some little
delicacies for supper, and mentioned it incidentally, when Jessie said
that she should not want any supper when she came home.
'I am sure to have supper with Josey West,' she said.
'You go there a great deal, Jessie,' remarked my mother, with an
anxious look.
'I am happy there,' was Jessie's terse reply; 'but I don't want to
take Chris away.'
'You don't want the sunflower to turn to the sun,' sneered uncle
Bryan, with his usual amiability.
'I will not thank you for the compliment,' said Jessie, 'for it isn't
meant for one. Chris,' she exclaimed, turning suddenly to me, 'is the
sun the only bright thing in the heavens? Is not the moon as lovely,
and are not the stars the loveliest of all?'
Uncle Bryan took up the theme, continuing it to her disadvantage.
'But one loses sight of these loveliest things of all when the glare
of the sun is in his eyes.'
Jessie bit her lips.
'Am I to blame for going where my best friends are?' she asked.
'You go where your wishes take you. We are certainly not good enough
for such a young lady as you.'
'Perhaps not,' said Jessie defiantly, as she left the room.
This was her custom, after all her attempts at conciliation had
failed. Sometimes she would be silent; at others she would answer
pithily and bitterly, and without thought, perhaps; but she always
retired when she was becoming the subject of conversation. The old
days of light skirmishing were at an end. Short and bitter battles of
words, in which there was much gall, were now the fashion.
I was aware that for some time preparations were being made for an
important evening at the Wests'. I was very curious about it, but
Jessie would not allay my curiosity.
'You shall know all at the proper time,' she said; 'in the mean time
you can help me if you like.'
'Of course I will. What is that paper in your hand?'
'This is one of my characters, Chris. See here. Pauline--I'm to play
Pauline. And here's another--Mrs. Letitia Lullaby--that's me again. I
must learn every word of the parts, and you can help me in them.'
'I know what you want, Jessie; I've heard Turk go through some of his
parts.'
Thus it fell to my lot to hear Jessie repeat from memory all that
Pauline and Mrs. Letitia Lullaby have to say, giving her the cues, and
correcting her until she was, as she said, 'letter perfect.' But as
she continued to tease me, and would not let me into the secret of all
this preparation, I applied to Josey West for information. The
good-natured creature seldom refused me anything.
'We are going to have a grand dress performance, my dear,' she said,
'and Jessie will play the principal characters in two pieces.'
'In dress?' I asked, in some amazement.
'In dress, my dear. The pieces are _Delicate Ground_, and _A Conjugal
Lesson_; three characters in the first, and two in the second. Gus
will play Mr. Simon Lullaby, Jessie's husband, in one piece, and
Citizen Sangfroid, Jessie's husband, in the other. Brinsley, who is
out of an engagement, has condescended--that is the word, my
dear--condescended to play Alphonse de Grandier in _Delicate Ground_
for one night only, by special request of a lady.'
'Jessie?' I said.
'She is the lady referred to; the part is far beneath him, of
course--these parts always are, my dear, unless they are the principal
parts--but he'll play it very well; I shouldn't wonder if he doesn't
try to cut Gus out, so that we are sure to have some good acting.
Between the pieces there will be some dancing by Sophy, and Florry,
and Matty, and Rosy, and Nelly--it's good practice for them--and as
there's a change of performance at the Royal Columbia, Turk hopes to
be able to get away in time to see the last piece, and to recite "The
Dream of Eugene Aram." He wished very much to recite another piece, as
he was sick of committing murders, he said; but he does Eugene Aram
also by special request of a lady. He does it very finely too; one
night at a benefit two ladies went into hysterics in the middle of it,
and had to be carried out of the theatre. There was a paragraph in the
_Era_ about it, and it was put in some country papers as well. Turk is
very proud of that; he often speaks of it as a triumph of art. I ought
to play something as well, oughtn't I, my dear, on Jessie's night? But
I shall have enough to do as acting-manager.'
'Why do you call it Jessie's night?'
'Because it's the first time she ever dressed to act. Why, Turk has
got some bills printed!--he's a good-natured fellow, is Turk, the best
in the whole bunch, my dear! Here's one; but you mustn't say you've
seen it. Jessie doesn't know anything about it yet.' And Josey West
produced a printed bill, which read as follows:
Theatre Royal, Paradise Row.
Lessee: Miss Josey West.
****
_ENORMOUS ATTRACTION FOR
THIS NIGHT ONLY_.
FULL DRESS REHEARSAL,
FOR THE BENEFIT OF
MISS JESSIE TRIM,
Who will make her First Appearance on any stage,
Supported by those eminent Tragedians and Comedians,
MR. AUGUSTUS WEST
AND
MR. BRINSLEY WEST.
****
On this occasion will be presented the comic drama of
Citizen Sangfroid Mr. AUGUSTUS WEST.
Alphonse de Grandier Mr. BRINSLEY WEST
Pauline Miss JESSIE TRIM.
_To be followed by a_
GRAND BALLET
AND
TERPSICHOREAN REVEL,
In which Mdlles. Sophy, Florry, Matty,
Rosy, and Nelly will appear.
_After which_ (_by special request_).
The Eminent Mr. Turk West (the Original Thug)
will give his celebrated Recitation of
THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM.
_The whole to conclude with the comedietta
entitled_,
A CONJUGAL LESSON.
Mr. Simon Lullaby Mr. Augustus West.
Mrs. Simon Lullaby Miss Jessie Trim.
Stage Manager, Mr. Augustus West.
Acting Manager, Miss Josey West.
_Free List suspended. Press excepted_.
******
In consequence of the great attraction, the
entire Theatre has been converted into
Stalls, the price of which will be One Guinea,
or by special order, to be obtained of the
Acting Manager. On this occasion babies
in arms will be admitted, on the condition
that their mothers accompany them, and
that the baby-bottles are fully charged.
Josey West drew my particular attention to various parts of the
programme, such as the price of the stalls. 'In a fashionable theatre,
my dear, such as this is,' she said, with a whimsical look,' you
can't make the stalls too high;' and the notice about babies in
arms--'You know what a famous family we are for babies, my dear;'
especially to the words, 'Free list suspended, press excepted.'
'But you don't expect the press,' I said.
'Not exactly the press; but somebody of as much importance as a critic
may honour us with his company. But never mind him just now. Isn't the
programme splendid? It was Turk's idea, and he drew it up, and had it
printed, all out of his own pocket. No one knows anything of it but
you and me and him, so you must keep it quiet--we want to surprise
Jessie with it when the night comes. Turk says that when Jessie is a
famous actress this playbill will be a great curiosity.'
'When Jessie becomes a famous actress!' I repeated, with a sinking
heart.
'Yes, my dear; and she will be if she likes. Do you know, Chris, that
if I were you--I really think if I were you'--and she paused, and
looked at me kindly and shrewdly--'that I would buy two of the nicest
bouquets I can see to throw to Jessie when she is called on at the end
of the pieces. We'll manage between us, you and me, that no one shall
see them until the proper moment; you buy them, and give them to me on
the sly before the audience arrives, and I'll place them under your
seat, so that no one shall know. And now, my dear, I want you to tell
me something. If you don't like to, don't; and if I am asking any
thing that I oughtn't to ask, all you've got to do is to tell me of
it, and I'll drop it at once. Is Jessie comfortable at home? Ah, you
hesitate and turn colour; if you speak, you'll stammer. Don't say a
word; I'll drop the subject.'
'No, why should you?' I said. 'You are a good friend, and you have a
reason for asking.'
'I am as good a friend, my dear, to you and Jessie as you'll find in
all your knockings about in the world. Mind that! Don't you forget it,
or you'll hurt my feelings, as the Kinchin says. You've only got one
better friend, and that's that dear mother of yours, that I'd like to
throw my arms round the neck of this minute, and hug.'
'Why, you've never spoken to her, Josey!'
'What of that? I've heard of her, and that's enough for Josey West.
And a good mother makes a good son. I like you first for yourself, and
I like you second for your mother (_not_ out of a riddlebook, my dear,
though it sounds like it)! As for my reasons, why, yes, I have my
reasons for asking, or I shouldn't ask.'
'Jessie does not make a confidant of any one but you, I suppose,
Josey.'
'Of no one but me, my dear, and I know what I know, and suspect a
great deal more.'
'If Jessie confides in you, I may. She is not so happy at home as she
might be and as she deserves to be.'
'Thank you, my dear; I only wanted to make sure. Now we'll drop the
subject.' She went through some comical pantomime, as though she were
sewing up her lips. 'Stop and see the girls go through their ballet.
Come along, Sophy and Florry and all of you; the bell has rung for the
curtain.' And she began to sing, first, however, whispering to me that
we should have real music on _the_ night. 'No expense, my dear; it's
all ready to hand in the family.'
Then the children arranged their figures and positions to Josey West's
singing, and rehearsed the ballet with the seriousness of grown-up
people.
Neither uncle Bryan nor my mother knew anything of Jessie's passion
for acting. Jessie held me to my promise of not saying anything about
it at home; and on occasions when I urged her to let my mother know of
it, she refused in the most decided manner, and said she had her
reasons for keeping it a secret.
As for myself, I found myself in a labyrinth. So conflicting were the
influences around me, that I scarcely dared to think of the plans I
had cherished but a little while since, and hoped to see fulfilled. I
could only hope and wait.