CHAPTER X

The Incognita continued to devote herself to needle-work till the

morning of the next rehearsal. She was then again called to the double

task of prompting, and of reading the part of Lady Townly, Miss Arbe

having, unceremoniously, announced, that as she had already performed

that character three several times, and to the most brilliant audiences,

though at private theatres, any further practice for herself would be a

work of supererogation; and if the company, she added, would but be so

good as to remember her directions, she need only attend personally at

the final rehearsal.

The whole party was much offended by this insinuation of its

inferiority, as well as by so contemptuous an indifference to the

prosperity of the enterprize. Nor was this the only difficulty caused by

the breach of attendance in Miss Arbe. The entertainment was to conclude

with a cotillon, of which Ireton had brought the newest steps and method

from France, but which, through this unexpected failure, the sett was

incomplete for practising. Elinor was persuaded, that in keeping the

whole group thus imperfect, both in the play and in the dance, it was

the design of Miss Arbe to expose them all to ridicule, that her own

fine acting and fine steps might be contrasted to the greater advantage.

To obviate, as much as possible, this suspected malice, the stranger was

now requested to stand up with them; for as she was so lately come from

abroad, they concluded that she might know something of the matter.

They were not mistaken: the steps, the figure, the time, all were

familiar to her; and she taught the young Selina, dropt hints to Elinor,

endeavoured to set Miss Bydel right, and gave a general, though

unpremeditated lesson to every one, by the measured grace and lightness

of her motions, which, little as her attire was adapted to such a

purpose, were equally striking for elegance and for modesty.

Harleigh, however, alone perceived her excellence: the rest had so much

to learn, or were so anxious to shine, that if occasionally they

remarked her, it was rather to be diverted by seeing any one dance so

ill equipped, than to be struck with the elevated carriage which no such

disadvantage could conceal.

Early on the morning preceding the intended representation, the stranger

was summoned to the destined theatre, where, while she was aiding the

general preparations, of dresses, decorations, and scenery, previous to

the last grand rehearsal, which, in order to try the effect of the

illuminations, was fixed to take place in the evening, Mrs Maple, with

derision marked in every feature of her face, stalked into the room, to

announce to her niece, with unbridled satisfaction, that all her fine

vagaries would now end in nothing, as Miss Arbe, at last, had the good

sense to refuse affording them her countenance.

Elinor, though too much enraged to inquire what this meant, soon,

perforce, learnt, that an old gentleman, a cousin of Miss Arbe's, had

ridden over with an apology, importing, that the most momentous reasons,

yet such as could not be divulged, obliged his relation to decline the

pleasure of belonging to their dramatic party.

The offence given by this abrupt renunciation was so general, though

Elinor, alone, allowed it free utterance, that Mr Giles Arbe, the bearer

of these evil tidings, conceived it to be more advisable to own the

plump truth, he said, at once, than to see them all so affronted without

knowing what for; though he begged them not to mention it, his cousin

having peremptorily charged him not to speak out: but the fact was, that

she had repented her engagement ever since the first rehearsal; for

though she should always be ready to act with the Miss Joddrels, who

were nieces to a baronet, and Mr Harleigh, who was nephew to a peer, and

Mr Ireton, who was heir to a large entailed estate; she was yet

apprehensive that it might let her down, in the opinion of the noble

theatrical society to which she belonged, if she were seen exhibiting

with such common persons as farmers and domestics; whom, however, for

all his cousin's nicety, Mr Giles said he thought to be full as good men

as any other; and, sometimes, considerably better.

Mrs Maple was elevated into the highest triumph by this explanation. 'I

told you how it would be!' she cried. 'Young ladies acting with mere

mob! I am truly rejoiced that Miss Arbe has given you the slip.'

Elinor heard this with a resentment, that determined her, more

vehemently than ever, not to abandon her project; she proudly,

therefore, returned thanks, by Mr Giles, for the restoration of the

part, which she had resigned in mere complaisance, as there was nothing

in the world she so much desired as to act it herself, even though it

must be now learnt in the course of a day; and she begged leave, as a

mark that she was not offended at the desertion, to borrow the dress of

the character, which she knew to be ready, and with which she would

adorn herself the following night, at the performance.

This last clause, she was well aware, would prove the most provoking

that she could devise, to Miss Arbe, who was renowned for being

finically tenacious of her attire; but Elinor would neither add a word

to her message, nor suffer one to be taken from it; and when Mr Giles

Arbe, frightened at the ill success of his confidence, would have

offered some apology, she drove him from the house, directing a trusty

person in the neighbourhood, to accompany him back, with positive orders

not to return without the dress.

She then told the stranger to study the part of Lady Wronghead, to fill

up the chasm.

The stranger began some earnest excuses, but they were lost in the

louder exclamations of Mrs Maple, whose disappointment in finding the

scheme still supported, was aggravated into rage, by the unexpected

proposition of admitting the stranger into the sett.

'What, Miss Joddrel!' she cried, 'is it not enough that you have made us

a by-word in the neighbourhood, by wanting to act with farmers and

servants? Must you also bring a foundling girl into your sett? an

illegitimate stroller, who does not so much as know her own name?'

The stranger, deeply reddening, gravely answered, 'Far from wishing to

enter into any plan of amusement, I could not have given my consent to

it, even if solicited.'

'Nobody asks what you could have done, I hope!' Mrs Maple began, when

Elinor, pushing the stranger into a large light closet, and throwing the

part after her, shut the door, charging her not to lose a moment, in

getting ready for the final rehearsal that very evening.

The Incognita, fixed not to look at the manuscript, now heard, perforce,

a violent quarrel between the aunt and the niece, the former protesting

that she would never agree to such a disgrace, as suffering a poor

straggling pauper to mix herself publicly with their society; and the

latter threatening, that, if forced to grant such a triumph to Miss

Arbe, as that of tamely relinquishing the undertaking, she would leave

the country and settle at once in France, and in the house of

Robespierre himself.

Harleigh, who, in a hasty and dashing, but masterly manner, was

colouring some scenery; had hitherto been silent; but now, advancing, he

proposed, as a compromise, that the performance should be deferred for a

week, in which time Miss Sycamore, a young lady at Brighthelmstone, whom

they all knew, would learn, he doubted not, the part, and supply, with

pleasure, the vacant place.

To this Mrs Maple, finding no hope remained that she could abolish the

whole project, was sullenly assenting, when Elinor reproachfully

exclaimed, 'What, Don Quixote! is your spirit of chivalry thus cooled?

and are you, too, for rejecting, with all this scorn, the fellow-voyager

you were so strenuous to support?'

'Scorn?' repeated Harleigh, 'No! I regard her, rather, with reverence.

'Tis she herself that has declined the part, and with a dignity that

does her honour. All she suffers to be discerned of her, announces

distinguished merit; and yet, highly as I have conceived of her

character, she is unknown to us; except by her distresses; and these,

though they call loudly for our sympathy and assistance, and, through

the propriety of her conduct, lay claim to our respect, may be thought

insufficient by the world, to justify Mrs Maple, who has two young

ladies so immediately under her care, for engaging a perfect stranger,

in a scheme which has no reference to humanity, or good offices.'

'Ah ha, Mr Harleigh!' cried Ireton, shaking his head, 'you are afraid of

what she may turn out! You think no better of her, at last, than I do.'

'I think, on the contrary, so well of her,' answered Harleigh, 'that I

am sincerely sorry to see her thus haughtily distanced. I often wish

these ladies would as generously, as I doubt not that they might safely,

invite her into their private society. Kindness such as that might

produce a confidence, which revolts from public and abrupt enquiry; and

which, I would nearly engage my life, would prove her innocence and

worth, and vindicate every trust.'

He then begged them to consider, that, should their curiosity and

suspicions work upon her spirits, till she were urged to reveal,

prematurely, the secret of her situation, they would themselves be the

first to condemn her for folly and imprudence, if breaking up the

mystery of her silence should affect either her happiness or her safety.

Mrs Maple would have been inconsolable at a defence against which she

had nothing positive to object, had she not reaped some comfort from

finding that even Harleigh opposed including the stranger in the acting

circle.

The delay of the performance, and an application to Miss Sycamore,

seemed now settled, when Mrs Fenn, the housekeeper, who was also aiding

in the room, lamented the trouble to be renewed for the

supper-preparations, as neither the fish, nor the pastry, nor sundry

other articles, could keep.

This was a complaint to which Mrs Maple was by no means deaf. The

invitations, also, were made; the drawing-room was given up for the

theatre; another apartment was appropriated for a green-room; and there

was not any chance that the house could be restored to order, nor the

maids to their usual occupations, till this business were finally over.

Her rancour now suddenly relented, with regard to the stranger, and, to

the astonishment of every one, she stopt Harleigh from riding over to

Brighthelmstone, to apply to Miss Sycamore, by concedingly saying, that,

since Mr Harleigh had really so good an opinion of the young woman who

came from France, she must confess that she had herself, of late, taken

a much better notion of her, by finding that she was so excellent a

needle-woman; and, therefore, she did not see why they should send for

so finical a person as Miss Sycamore, who was full of airs and

extravagance, to begin all over again, and disappoint so much company,

when they had a body in the house who might do one of the parts, so as

to pass amongst the rest, without being found out for what she was.

Harleigh expressed his doubts whether the young person herself, who was

obviously in very unpleasant circumstances, might chuse to be brought

forward in so public an amusement.

The gentleness of Mrs Maple was now converted into choler; and she

desired to know, whether a poor wretch such as that, who had her meat,

drink, and lodging for nothing, should be allowed to chuse any thing for

herself one way or another.

Elinor, dropping, though not quite distinctly, some sarcastical

reflections upon the persistence of Harleigh in preferring Miss Sycamore

to his Dulcinea, retired to her room to study the part of Lady Townly;

saying that she should leave them full powers, to wrangle amongst

themselves, for that of Lady Wronghead.

Harleigh, who had not seen the stranger turned into the closet, now

entered it, in search of a pencil. Not a little was then his surprize to

find her sketching, upon the back of a letter, a view of the hills,

downs, cottages, and cattle, which formed the prospect from the window.

It was beautifully executed, and undoubtedly from nature. Harleigh, with

mingled astonishment and admiration, clasped his hands, and

energetically exclaimed, 'Accomplished creature! who ... and what are

you?'

Confused, she blushed, and folded up her little drawing. He seemed

almost equally embarrassed himself, at the expression and the question

which had escaped him. Mrs Maple, following, paradingly told the

stranger, that, as she had hemmed the last cambric-handkerchiefs so

neatly, she might act, upon this particular occasion, with the Miss

Joddrels; only first premising, that she must not own to a living soul

her being such a poor forlorn creature; as the only way to avoid

disgrace to themselves, amongst their acquaintance, for admitting her,

would be to say that she was a young lady of family, who came over with

them from France.

To the last clause, the stranger calmly answered that she could offer no

objection, in a manner which, to the attentive Harleigh, clearly

indicated that it was true; but that, with respect to performing, she

was in a situation too melancholy, if not disastrous, to be capable of

making any such attempt.

Mrs Maple was so angry at this presumption, that she replied, 'Do as you

are ordered, or leave my house directly!' and then walked, in high

wrath, away.

The stranger appeared confounded: she felt an almost resistless impulse

to depart immediately; but something stronger than resentment told her

to stay: it was distress! She paused a moment, and then, with a sigh,

took up the part, and, without looking at Harleigh, who was too much

shocked to offer any palliation for this grossness, walked pensively to

her chamber.

She was soon joined by Elinor, who, in extreme ill humour, complained

that that odious Lady Townly was so intolerably prolix, that there was

no getting her endless babbling by heart, at such short notice: and

that, but for the triumph which it would afford to Miss Arbe, to find

out their embarrassment, and the spite that it would gratify in Aunt

Maple, the whole business should be thrown up at once. Sooner, however,

than be conquered, either by such impertinence, or such malignity, she

would abandon Lady Townly to the prompter, whom Miss Arbe might have the

surprise and amusement to dizen out in her fine attire.

Then, declaring that she hated and would not act with Miss Sycamore, who

was a creature of insolence and conceit, she flung the part of Lady

Townly to the Incognita, saying, that she must abide herself by that of

Lady Wronghead; a name which she well merited to keep for the rest of

her life, from her inconceivable mismanagement of the whole affair.

The stranger earnestly entreated exemption from the undertaking, and

solicited the intercession of Elinor with Mrs Maple, to soften the hard

sentence denounced against her refusal. To act such a character as that

of Lady Townly, she should have thought formidable, if not impossible,

even in her gayest moments: but now, in a situation the most helpless,

and with every reason to wish for obscurity, the exertion would be the

most cruel that could be exacted.

Elinor, however, listened only to herself: Miss Arbe must be mortified;

Mrs Maple must be thwarted; and Miss Sycamore must be omitted: these

three things, she declared, were indispensable, and could only be

accomplished by defying all obstacles, and performing the comedy upon

the appointed day.

The stranger now saw no alternative between obsequiously submitting, or

immediately relinquishing her asylum.

How might she find another? she knew not where even to seek her friend,

and no letter was arrived from abroad.

There was no resource! She decided upon studying the part.

This was not difficult: she had read it at three rehearsals, and had

carefully copied it; but she acquired it mechanically because

unwillingly, and while she got the words by rote, scarcely took their

meaning into consideration.

When called down, at night, to the grand final rehearsal, she gave equal

surprise to Harleigh, from finding her already perfect in so long a

part, and from hearing her repeat it with a tameness almost lifeless.

At the scene of the reconciliation, in the last act, he took her hand,

and slightly kissed the glove. Ireton called out, 'Embrace!

embrace!--the peace-making is always decided, at the theatre, by an

embrace. You must throw your arms lovingly over one another's

shoulders.'

Harleigh did not advance, but he looked at the stranger, and the blush

upon her cheeks shewed her wholly unaccustomed even to the mention of

any personal liberty; Ireton, however, still insisting, he laughingly

excused himself, by declaring, that he must do by Lord Townly as he

would do by himself; and he never meant, should he marry, to be tender

to his wife before company.

Mrs Maple now, extremely anxious for her own credit, told all the

servants, that she had just discovered, that the stranger who came from

France, was a young lady of consequence, and she desired that they would

make a report to that effect throughout the neighbourhood; and, in the

new play-bills which were now written, she suffered to see inserted,

Lady Townly by Miss Ellis.

Harleigh was the first to address the stranger by this name, previously

taking an opportunity, with an air of friendly regard, to advise that

she would adopt it, till she thought right to declare her own. She

thanked him gratefully for his counsel, confessing, that she had long

felt the absurdity of seeming nameless; and adding, 'but I had made no

preparation for what I so little expected, as the length of time in

which I have been kept in this almost unheard of situation! and the

hourly hope of seeing it end, made me decide to spare myself, at least

by silence, from deceit.'

The look of Harleigh shewed his approbation of her motive, while his

words strengthened her conviction, that it must now give way to the

necessity of some denomination. 'Be it Ellis, then,' said she, smiling,

'though evasion may, perhaps, be yet meaner than falsehood!

Nevertheless, I am rather more contented to make use of this name, which

accident has bestowed upon me, than positively to invent one for

myself.'

Ellis, therefore, which appellation, now, will be substituted for that

of the Incognita, seeing no possibility of escaping this exhibition,

comforted herself, that, however repugnant it might be to her

inclinations and her sense of propriety, it gave her, at least, some

chance, during the remainder of her stay at Lewes, of being treated with

less indignity.

The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 1 of 5) · 第 10 / 16 章