Mr. and Mrs. Cooke, young Timmy, Jenny, Susan, and Betsy arrived in a four-wheeler, all dressed in their Sunday best. Jenny, to my eyes, stood out from both of the other maids. Mr. Stoker was already familiar with everyone, since he was a frequent visitor to Mr. Irving’s residence, but I made a point of introducing Jenny to him.
“Mr. Stoker, permit me to present to you Miss Jenny Cartwright.”
“Delighted, Miss Cartwright,” said my boss. “I understand that we are beholden to you in the matter of certain correspondence.”
Jenny looked at me, her eyes wide.
“The letters,” I muttered.
“Oh yes. Yes, sir. Of course. It was my pleasure, sir,” she said, bobbing a curtsey.
“Nonetheless, our thanks. And if I may be so bold, I believe young Harry here to be extremely fortunate to have made the acquaintance of a young lady such as yourself.”
Jenny’s face turned red and she looked down at her feet. For myself, I was brimming over with happiness. I offered my arm, which Jenny quickly took, and we all moved off into the theatre.
Shortly thereafter we were all seated in the Royal Box, on the gilt chairs with velvet upholstery on seat and back. I was at one end. Beside me, her eyes wide as she looked all about her, sat Jenny. We awaited the start of Hamlet. Mr. and Mrs. Henry Cooke sat in the center of the box with the other two maids and young Timmy on their far side. I looked over the front of the box, down at the pit and the stalls below me and then up at the tiers rising above. It was another full house. The Lyceum was back to normal.
As the house lights dimmed and the curtain rose on the scene “A Platform before Elsinore Castle,” Jenny leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. I was very happy.
Cursed in the Act Page 28
