"And pray what are they, then-when you dress yourselves up, and speak the speeches out as boldly as Mrs. Siddons, or any of them?"
"You pay us a great compliment," said Beatrice, who could sometimes be pert when alone with grandmamma; and she then went on with her explanation of how very far this was from anything that could be called theatrical; it was the guessing the word, not their acting, that was the important point. The distinction was too fine for grandmamma; it was play-acting, and that was enough for her, and she would not have it done. "But grandpapa liked it, and had given full consent." This was a powerful piece of ordnance which Beatrice had kept in reserve, but at the first moment the shot did not tell.
"Ladies were the best judges in such a case as this," said Mrs. Langford, "and let who would consent, she would never have her granddaughters standing up, speaking speeches out of Shakespeare, before a whole room full of company."
"Well, then, grandmamma, I'll tell you what: to oblige you, we will not have one single scene out of Shakespeare-not one. Won't that do?"
"You will go to some other play-book, and that is worse," said Mrs. Langford.
"No, no, we will not: we will do every bit out of our own heads, and it shall be almost all Fred and Alex; Henrietta and I will scarcely come in at all. And it will so shorten the evening, and amuse every one so nicely! and grandpapa has said we may."
Mrs. Langford gave a sort of sigh. "Ah, well! you always will have your own way, and I suppose you must; but I never thought to see such things in my house. In my day, young people thought no more of a scheme when their elders had once said, 'No.'"
"Yes, only you must not say so, grandmamma. I am sure we would give it up if you did; but pray do not-we will manage very well."
"And put the whole house in a mess, as you did last time; turn everything upside down. I tell you, Beatrice, I can't have it done. I shall want the study to put out the supper in."
"We can dress in our own rooms, then," said Beatrice, "never mind that."
"Well, then, if you will make merry-andrews of yourselves, and your fathers and mothers like to let you, I can't help it-that's all I have to say," said Mrs. Langford, walking out of the room; while Fred entered from the other side a moment after. "Victory, victory, my dear Fred!" cried Beatrice, darting to meet him in an ecstasy. "I have prevailed: you find me in the hour of victory. The Assassin for ever! announced for Monday night, before a select audience!"
"Well, you are an irresistible Queen Bee," said Fred; "why Alex has just been telling me ever so much that his mother told him about grandmamma's dislike to it. I thought the whole concern a gone 'coon, as they say in America."
"I got grandpapa first," said Beatrice, "and then I persuaded her; she told me it would lead to all sorts of mischief, and gave me a long lecture which had nothing to do with it. But I found out at last that the chief points which alarmed her were poor Shakespeare and the confusion in the study; so by giving up those two I gained everything."
"You don't mean that you gave up bully Bottom?"
"Yes, I do; but you need not resign your asses' ears. You shall wear them in the character of King Midas."
"I think," said the ungrateful Fred, "that you might as well have given it all up together as Bottom."
"No, no; just think what capabilities there are in Midas. We will decidedly make him King of California, and I'll be the priestess of Apollo; there is an old three-legged epergne-stand that will make a most excellent tripod. And only think of the whispering into the reeds, 'King Midas has the ears of an ass.' I would have made more of a fight for Bottom, if that had not come into my head."
"But you will have nothing to do."
"That helped to conciliate. I promised we girls should appear very little, and for the sake of effect, I had rather Henrietta broke on the world in all her beauty at the end. I do look forward to seeing her as Queen Eleanor; she will look so regal."
Fred smiled, for he delighted in his sister's praises. "You are a wondrous damsel, busy one," said he, "to be content to play second fiddle."
"Second fiddle! As if I were not the great moving spring! Trust me, you would never write yourself down an ass but for the Queen Bee. How shall we ever get your ears from Allonfield? Saturday night, and only till Monday evening to do everything in!"
"Oh, you will do it," said Fred. "I wonder what you and Henrietta cannot do between you! Oh, there is Uncle Geoffrey come in," he exclaimed, as he heard the front door open.
"And I must go and dress," said Beatrice, seized with a sudden haste, which did not speak well for the state of her conscience.
Uncle Geoffrey was in the hall, taking off his mud-bespattered gaiters. "So you are entered with the vermin, Fred," called he, as the two came out of the drawing-room.
"O how we wished for you, Uncle Geoffrey! but how did you hear it?"
"I met Alex just now. Capital sport you must have had. Are you only just come in?"
"No, we were having a consultation about the charades," said Fred; "the higher powers consent to our having them on Monday."
"Grandmamma approving?" asked Uncle Geoffrey.
"O yes," said Fred, in all honesty, "she only objected to our taking a regular scene in a play, and 'coming it as strong' as we did the other night; so it is to be all extemporary, and it will do famously."
Beatrice, who had been waiting in the dark at the top of the stairs, listening, was infinitely rejoiced that her project had been explained so plausibly, and yet in such perfect good faith, and she flew off to dress in high spirits. Had she mentioned it to her father, he would have doubted, taken it as her scheme, and perhaps put a stop to it: but hearing of it from Frederick, whose pleasures were so often thwarted, was likely to make him far more unwilling to object. For its own sake, she knew he had no objection to the sport; it was only for that of his mother; and since he had heard of her as consenting, all was right. No, could Beatrice actually say so to her own secret soul?
She could not; but she could smother the still small voice that checked her, in a multitude of plans, and projects, and criticisms, and airy castles, and, above all, the pleasure of triumph and dominion, and the resolution not to yield, and the delight of leading.
CHAPTER XII.
"OUR hearts and all our members, being mortified from all worldly and carnal lusts:" so speaks the collect with which we begin the new year-such the prayer to which the lips of the young Langfords said, "Amen:" but what was its application to them? What did they do with the wicked world in their own guarded homes? There was Uncle Geoffrey, he was in the world. It might be for him to pray for that spirit which enabled him to pass unscathed through the perils of his profession, neither tempted to grasp at the honours nor the wealth which lay in his way, unhardened and unsoured by the contact of the sin and selfishness on every side. This might indeed be the world. There was Jessie Carey, with her love of dress, and admiration, and pleasure; she should surely pray that she might live less to the vanities of the world; there were others, whose worn countenances spoke of hearts devoted to the cares of the world; but to those fair, fresh, happy young things, early taught how to prize vain pomp and glory, their minds as yet free from anxiety, looking from a safe distance on the busy field of trial and temptation; were not they truly kept from that world which they had renounced?
Alas! that they did not lay to heart that the world is everywhere; that if education had placed them above being tempted by the poorer, cheaper, and more ordinary attractions, yet allurements there were for them also. A pleasure pursued with headlong vehemence because it was of their own devising, love of rule, the spirit of rivalry, the want of submission; these were of the world. Other temptations had not yet reached them, but if they gave way to those which assailed them in their early youth, how could they expect to have strength to bear up against the darker and stronger ones which would meet their riper years?
Even before daylight had fully found its way into Knight Sutton Hall, there was many a note of preparation, and none clearer or
louder than those of the charade actors. Beatrice was up long before light, in the midst of her preparations, and it was not long after, as, lamp in hand, she whisked through the passages, Frederick's voice was heard demanding whether the Busy Bee had turned into a firefly, and if the paste was made wherewith Midas was to have his crown stuck with gold paper. Zealous indeed were the workers, and heartily did old Judith wish them anywhere else, as she drove them, their lamps, their paste, and newspaper, from one corner of the study to the other, and at last fairly out into the hall, threatening them with what Missus would say to them. At last grandmamma came down with a party of neat little notes in her hand, to be immediately sent off by Martin and the cart to Allonfield, and Martin came to the door leading to the kitchen regions to receive his directions.
"O how lucky!" cried Queen Bee, springing up. "The cotton velvet for the ears! I'll write a note in a second!" Then she paused. "But I can't do it without Henrietta, I don't know how much she wants. Half a yard must do, I suppose; but then, how to describe it? Half a yard of donkey-coloured velvet! It will never do; I must see Henrietta first!"
"Have not you heard her bell?" said Fred.
"No, shall I go and knock at the door? She must be up by this time."
"You had better ask Bennet," said Fred; "she sometimes gets up quietly, and dresses herself without Bennet, if mamma is asleep, because it gives her a palpitation to be disturbed in the morning."
Bennet was shouted for, and proved not to have been into her mistress's room. The charade mania was not strong enough to make them venture upon disturbing Mrs. Frederick Langford, and to their great vexation, Martin departed bearing no commission for the asinine decorations.
About half an hour after, Henrietta made her appearance, as sorry as any one that the opportunity had been lost, more especially as mamma had been broad awake all the time, and the only reason she had not rung the bell was, that she was not ready for Bennet.
As usual, she was called an incorrigible dawdle, and made humble confession of the same, offering to do all in her power to make up for the morning's laziness. But what would Midas be without his ears?
The best plan that Queen Bee could devise, was, that, whilst Henrietta was engaged with the other preparations, she should walk to Sutton Leigh with Frederick, to despatch Alexander to Allonfield. No sooner said than done, and off they set, but neither was this plan fated to meet with success, for just as they came in sight of Sutton Leigh, they were hailed by the loud hearty voice of Roger, and beheld him at the head of four brothers, marching off to pay his respects to his Aunt Carey, some three miles off. Alex came to hold council at Queen Bee's summons, but he could do nothing for her, for he had that morning been taken to task for not having made a visit to Mrs. Carey, since he came home, and especially ordered off to call upon her, before meeting her at the party that evening.
"How abominably provoking!" cried Beatrice; "just as if it signified. If I had but a fairy!"
"Carey!" called Alex, "here! Bee wants to send over to Allonfield: won't you take Dumple and go?"
"Not I," responded Carey; "I want to walk with Roger. But there's Dumple, let her go herself."
"What, ride him?" asked Beatrice, "thank you, Carey."
"Fred might drive you," said Carey; "O no, poor fellow, I suppose he does not know how."
Fred coloured with anger. "I do," said he; "I have often driven our own horses."
"Ay," said Beatrice, "with the coachman sitting by you, and Aunt Mary little guessing what you were doing."
"I assure you, Queen," said Fred, very earnestly, "I do really know how to drive, and if we may have the gig, and you will trust yourself with me, I will bring you home quite safe."
"I know you can have the gig," said Carey, "for papa offered it to Roger and Alex this morning; only we chose all to walk together. To think of doubting whether to drive old Dumple!"
"I don't question," said Fred; "I only want to know if Busy Bee will go. I won't break your neck, I promise you."
Beatrice was slightly mistrustful, and had some doubts about Aunt Mary, but poor Alex did much to decide her, though intending quite the reverse.
"I don't advise you, Bee," said he.
"O, as to that," said she, pleased to see that he disliked the plan, "I have great faith in Dumple's experience, and I can sit tight in a chay, as the boy said to grandpapa when he asked him if he could ride. My chief doubt is about Aunt Mary."
Fred's successful disobedience in the matter of skating had decidedly made him less scrupulous about showing open disregard of his mother's desires, and he answered in a certain superior patronizing manner, "O, you know I only give way sometimes, because she does make herself so intensely miserable about me; but as she will be spared all that now, by knowing nothing about it, I don't think it need be considered."
Beatrice recollected what her father had said, but eluded it the next moment, by replying to herself, that no commands had been given in this case.
Alex stood fumbling with the button of his great coat, looking much annoyed, and saying nothing; Roger called out to him that they could not wait all day, and he exerted himself to take Beatrice by the arm, and say, "Bee, I wish you would not, I am sure there will be a blow up about it at home."
"O, you think nobody can or may drive me but yourself, Master Alex," said Beatrice, laughing. "No, no, I know very well that nobody will care when it is done, and there are no commands one way or the other. I love my own neck, I assure you, Alex, and will not get that into a scrape. Come, if that will put you into a better humour, I'll dance with you first to-night." Alex turned away, muttering, "I don't like it-I'd go myself, but-Well, I shall speak to Fred."
Beatrice smiled with triumph at the jealousy which she thought she had excited, and watched to see the effect of the remonstrance.
"You are sure now," said he, "that you can drive safely? Remember it would be a tolerable piece of work if you were to damage that little Bee."
This eloquent expostulation might have had some weight, if it had come from any one else; but Fred was too much annoyed at the superiority of his rival to listen with any patience, and he replied rather sullenly, that he could take as good care of her as Alex himself, and he only wished that their own horses were come from Rocksand.
"Well, I have no more to say," said Alex, "only please to mind this, Langford junior, you may do just as you please with our horse, drive him to Jericho for what I care. It was for your own sake and Beatrice's that I spoke."
"Much obliged, Langford senior," replied Fred, making himself as tall as he could, and turning round to Carey with a very different tone, "Now, Carey, we won't stop you any longer, if you'll only just be so good as to tell your man to get out the gig."
Carey did so, and Beatrice and Frederick were left alone, but not long, for Uncle Roger presently came into the yard with Willy and Arthur running after him. To take possession of his horse and carriage, in his very sight, without permission, was quite impossible, and, besides, Beatrice knew full well that her dexterity could obtain a sanction from him which might be made to parry all blame. So tripping up to him, she explained in a droll manner the distress in which the charade actors stood, and how the boys had said that they might have Dumple to drive to Allonfield. Good natured Uncle Roger, who did not see why Fred should not drive as well as Alex or any of his other boys, knew little or nothing of his sister-in-law's fears, and would, perhaps, have taken Fred's side of the question if he had, did exactly as she intended, declared them perfectly welcome to the use of Dumple, and sent Willy into the house for the driving whip. Thus authorized, Beatrice did not fear even her father, who was not likely to allow in words what a nonentity the authority of Uncle Roger might really be esteemed.
Willy came back with a shilling in his hand, and an entreaty that he might go with Queen Bee and Fred to buy a cannon for the little ships, of which Roger's return always produced a whole fleet at Sutton Leigh. His cousins were in a triumphant temper of good nature, and willingly consenti
ng, he was perched between them, but for one moment Beatrice's complacency was diminished as Uncle Roger called out, "Ha! Fred take care! What are you doing?-you'll be against the gate-post-don't bring his head so short round. If you don't take more care, you'll certainly come to a smash before you get home."
If honour and credit had not been concerned, both Beatrice and Frederick would probably have been much better satisfied to have given up their bold design after this debut, but they were far too much bent on their own way to yield, and Fred's pride would never have allowed him to acknowledge that he felt himself unequal to the task he had so rashly undertaken. Uncle Roger, believing it to be only carelessness instead of ignorance, and too much used to dangerous undertakings of his own boys to have many anxieties on their account, let them go on without further question, and turned off to visit his young wheat without the smallest uneasiness respecting the smash he had predicted, as he had done, by way of warning, at least twenty times before.
Busy Bee was in that stage of girlhood which is very sensible on some points, in the midst of great folly upon others, and she was quite wise enough to let Fred alone, to give full attention to his driving all the way to Allonfield. Dumple knew perfectly well what was required of him, and went on at a very steady well-behaved pace, up the hill, across the common, and into the town, where, leaving him at the inn, they walked into the street, and Beatrice, after an infinity of searching, succeeded in obtaining certain grey cotton velvet, which, though Fred asserted that donkeys had a tinge of lilac, was certainly not unfit to represent their colour. As Fred's finances were in a much more flourishing state since New Year's day, he proceeded to delight the very heart of Willy by a present of a pair of little brass cannon, on which his longing eyes had often before been fixed, and they then returned to the carriage, in some dismay on perceiving that it was nearly one o'clock.
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