Old Friends and New Fancies (23 page)

"Mine? Oh, dear, no," said Georgiana, looking up at him, and down again with a bright blush. "I think it is rather interesting to speculate upon other people's motives and to wonder what hidden impulses make them do certain things which seem hard to account for; but as to myself--oh, no, I never understand my own motives--I do not always know what they are. Do you understand yours?"
"Well, yes, I think so; not that I have ever troubled much about it, but on general principals, I think I always do things, or try to do them, either because I want to very much, or because it is a matter of professional duty."
"Then you are decidedly to be congratulated, Mr. Price," said Georgiana, smiling. "I should--I mean, most people would think themselves fortunate if they had two such burning lights to guide them. I suppose the way is so clear that you do not need to seek any further motives, as to why you want to do the thing so much, for instance?"
"Of course not," promptly replied William, "that would be looking back. How would one ever steer a ship, unless one kept one's eyes fixed on the course ahead? If you suspect there are rocks, you must avoid them, but it would be a waste of time wondering how you came to be where you are. You see that, too, do you not?"
"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Georgiana, "but I am afraid I have not learnt to steer my ship quite so well, or perhaps I have too many lights, and they are confusing."
William began to reply, but was interrupted by Kitty, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. "Mr. Price, do you know what you have done? refused the lobster sauce! What can you be thinking of? your turbot will not be half so nice without it!"
William made proper apologies to the bearer of the lobster sauce, who returned it at Kitty's summons, and she was pacified by Mr. Price's applying himself to his dinner, and entering heartily into a reminiscence of hers at a dinner-party at Mrs. Knightley's, when they had met for the first time, and when there had also--strange coincidence--been turbot for dinner.
Georgiana was glad to sit for a while in silent thought. Mr. Price's suggestion, that her life was governed by a distinct purpose, appeared sadly wide of the mark. Did not the mistakes she had made in the past show that she was merely drifting, lamentably weak, and having no sound judgment of her own? Whereas people like Kitty, who had given themselves up to the guidance of a definite aspiration, and Mr. Price, too, who had owned what lights he was steering by, would they not soon be in safe harbour? It seemed so, and Georgiana almost envied them of that delightful security, for of late she had allowed herself to wonder if such heights of happiness would ever be attainable by herself, and a longing had sometimes crept over her, since she had known and liked Mr. Price, that she might meet someone who could be to her what he was to Kitty.
Throughout the remainder of dinner she did not have any further conversation with William Price, though occasionally appealed to by one or other of them to give an opinion upon some point at issue, generally connected with the charades. With Mrs. Ferrars, who sat on her other side, she enjoyed a quiet little talk, and before they left the table Elinor inquired casually whether Mr. Bertram was nice--whether they had found him pleasant.
"Yes, I think so--I think we all like him very much," replied Georgiana, who until that moment had not formed any estimate of him. "He is very lively--and he has taken an immense deal of trouble about the charades--and Mr. Bingley, I know, considers him an excellent shot."
"That is quite an adequate description of him in a few words," said Elinor. "I wondered what you all thought of him, as I know you had not met before. He is not much like his cousin, is he?"
"No, indeed," responded Georgiana, speaking with more animation. "Could you imagine a greater contrast? One can see at a glance how different their lives and professions have been, and how different their characters must be."
"I should be interested to hear," said Elinor in a low tone, and with a smile, "what you take to be the chief points of unlikeness in their characters, if you were not sitting too near to one of them to tell me."
Georgiana smiled and shook her head. "I could not very well, and I am sure you can read faces as well as anybody."
"I understand," said Elinor, "that the one we mentioned first is heir to a title and a large estate."
"I believe so," replied Georgiana, "but the other is fortunate in needing neither titles nor large estates to recommend him."
Elinor needed nothing further to convince her that Mrs. Jennings's suspicions, as far as Georgiana was concerned, were perfectly groundless; what the Bingleys might be desiring of her, or Mr. Bertram aiming at, was another matter. Certainly an onlooker could hardly help thinking of the probabilities of the match, with a handsome and wealthy young man on the one side, and a girl of Georgiana's beauty, accomplishments and high birth on the other.

ALL WENT WELL; THE dinner came to an end; the actors retired to dress, and the six members of the audience disposed themselves in armchairs in front of the curtain, and prepared to be mystified. The performance commenced after no longer delay than is usual on occasions of this kind, and opened with a duel scene, in which Bingley and Tom Bertram aimed pistols at one another in a most realistic manner, but failed to kill each other, owing to one weapon missing fire, and the ball of the other not penetrating a vital part. Two of the ladies rushed in and made demonstrations of relief at finding the wounded hero able to walk off the field. The next scene represented a card-room, with a party of players, and Bingley as the inveterate gambler staking higher and higher, until all was lost on turning up of a fatal four of hearts. Next was seen William Price as Richard I, in prison, aroused from despair at the sound of Blondel's harp, and the vision at the barred window of the minstrel, impersonated by Miss Bingley, cloaked and hooded and playing on a zither. The whole word gave a fine opportunity to Tom Bertram to exhibit his comedy powers in the part of a gentleman whose pocket is picked of a purse of money, his lamentations to his family, his efforts to recover it, and the final restoration of the purse, by then totally empty.

Much laughter and applause followed this conclusion, and though the word "misfortune" was presently discovered by the audience without any further help, they were delighted with the spirited and vigorous quality of the acting, which had conveyed so much to them in dumb show, not a word being spoken on the stage. Darcy's only adverse criticism was that so far there had not been enough for the ladies to do; but this defect was remedied in the next word, which consisted of only three scenes. In the first, Miss Bingley made a very tolerable Lady Macbeth, striving to cleanse her hands of blood while she walks in her sleep, and is observed by her gentlewoman and doctor; the second showed Joan of Arc, in the person of Kitty, led to the stake, while the others grouped themselves round and endeavoured to look as numerous as possible, in the parts of the judges, soldiers and executioners. Poor Kitty's slight figure, and insignificant presence, made it difficult for the character to be well realized in her; and Mr. Bertram's frown as he looked at her was not an assumed one, for he had originally cast Miss Darcy for the part, and had expostulated vehemently when she had insisted on yielding to the broadly-hinted-at wishes of her friend. Finally, Mrs. Bingley, as Cleopatra, looked exceedingly handsome in a robe as Egyptian as it could be made on short notice, and received the asp from a basket held by Georgiana, while Miss Bingley represented her other "handmaid."

This word was not so easily guessed as the other, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam were the first to arrive at it, while Elizabeth had to attend to the panegyrics of Mrs. Jennings and the more quietly expressed admiration of Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars. The former had indeed forgotten that there was anything to guess, so enchanted was she with the whole proceeding, so convinced that Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy were two of the most beautiful and gifted beings who had ever appeared on any stage, and it was only by making really meritorious effort at self-control, that she refrained from descanting on the good fortune of the two young men whom she supposed to be their respective admirers. She was still talking eagerly about the dresses, and the snake, and the pile of wood that looked so terribly real, and Mr. Bertram's being so clever and funny when he pretended to be angry, when the curtain rose on a new scene, and the spectators found themselves in another period of the past. Miss Bingley, an unmistakable Queen Elizabeth, graciously received a folio from Shakespeare, handed a ring to Essex, and on departing, stepped on a cloak laid down for her by Raleigh. In spite of this astonishing disregard for chronology, the scene was greatly enjoyed, as was also the next, which with the aid of a great deal of imagination, represented the deck of a ship. Here William Price had the leading part; he received a party of ladies on board, showed them all round the vessel, in such a lively manner that the deficiencies in the setting of the stage were hardly observed, gave orders to his sailors, and finally took an affectionate farewell of his friends, with much waving of handkerchiefs as the ship was supposed to sail away, and Kitty wept real tears of nervousness and excitement. The audience had had time to put the first and second syllables together while the ship was being cleared away, and they were in a measure prepared for the subject of the last scene, which reflected great credit on the stage-manager. It was a very pretty adaptation of
The Taming of the Shrew,
and showed the young girls in the characters of Bianca and Katharina, Kitty, of course, taking that of her namesake, in an episode of her stormy wooing by Petruchio, while Georgiana, as Bianca, submitted to a gentler form of love-making over a music lesson. The curtain was lowered for a moment before the sequel was given, wherein the two husbands, enacted by Tom Bertram and William Price, wager of their wives' obedience, and the conduct of the sisters proved how far marriage had altered them. To Mrs. Jennings's extreme delight, the part of Petruchio was taken by William Price, and this seemed to her to settle the whole manner finally, a view which was confirmed when she heard the word "courtship" passed from one to another of her companions.

"What do you think of that now, my dear?" she whispered loudly into the ear of Mrs. Ferrars. "What have I been telling you all along? Nothing could be clearer. A very pretty way of showing their friends, I say. 'Courtship,' you see, my dear. Ha ha! very pretty indeed. No, no, trust me. I shall not say a word until I am told. I know better than that. And the other one, too. It all points the same way, does it not? Well, I declare, I have not seen anything to please me so much this long time."

The actors presently reappeared, when they had resumed ordinary dress, all a good deal fatigued, but in high spirits and much gratified by the unstinted congratulations of their friends. Mrs. Bingley and Miss Darcy, indeed, shrank from praise, for to Georgiana it had all been rather an ordeal when the time came, and she had been conscious of doing her part stiffly and without natural ease, and Jane declared she had not acted at all, for she would not have known how to do it; she had simply stood about, under Mr. Bertram's directions, and worn the clothes that had been contrived for her. But the others were not so diffident, for Bingley and William Price had enjoyed the whole thing heartily, and appreciated the joke of throwing themselves into an imaginary character. Kitty had enjoyed the acting and the applause, the pleasure of being with William Price had been quite intoxicating, and not being altogether without aptitude, she had really acquitted herself with some spirit, particularly in the scenes from
The Taming of the Shrew.
But it was to Miss Bingley and Mr. Bertram, in their own estimation, that the honours of the evening belonged. They received all compliments with the utmost complacency, and Caroline was heard explaining to Mr. Ferrars and Colonel Fitzwilliam, as they all moved towards the dining-room for supper, that she had modelled her conception of Lady Macbeth on that of Mrs. Siddons, which she had seen so frequently and studied so closely as to be quite at home in the portrayal of it. The lady might perhaps have selected other listeners had she known the associations which one of them had with that play.

"It does you great credit, Miss Bingley," said Darcy, who had been listening to her. "It has been an evening of surprises, has it not, Elizabeth? I could not have believed that there was so much hidden talent among us, which would never have been unburied but for the happy idea of these charades."

"It is always so, I can assure you, Mr. Darcy," said Tom Bertram. "Once you decide to act, you can always discover talent in any collection of people, ample for your needs. Of course, one or two will always stand out, by reason of greater ability; but you must know how to select your players, so that everyone has a part worthy of him."

"I am afraid some of us had parts we were not worthy of, to-night," cried William. "I never felt such a fool as when I was playing Petruchio, and nothing but the kindness of Miss Bennet could have pulled me through. It needs a fellow about six feet high; I always said you ought to have done it yourself, Tom."