Part 21

“I felt certain that it could bear but a meagre resemblance to Mr. O'Brien if all that I hear of the man be true,” said Lady Susan. “His lordship swears that there has never been so great an actor in England, and I should like to give him a surprise by presenting to him a miniature portrait of his favourite, done by the cunning pencil of Miss Read, on his birthday. I protest that 'tis a vast kindness you are doing me in undertaking such a thing. But mind, I would urge of you to keep the affair a profound secret. I wish it as a surprise to my father, and its effect would be spoilt were it to become known to any of his friends that I had this intention.”

“Your ladyship may rest assured that no living creature will hear of the affair through me,” said the painteress. “But I heartily wish that your ladyship could procure for me a better copy than this print from which to work,” she added.

“I fear that I cannot promise you that; I found two other prints of the same person, but they are worse even than this,” said Lady Susan. “You must do your best with the material at your disposal.”

“Your ladyship may depend on my doing my best,” replied Miss Read. “When does his lordship's birthday take place?”

Her ladyship was somewhat taken aback by the sudden question. It took her some time to recollect that her father's birthday was to be within a month. She felt that she could not live for longer than another month without a portrait of the man whom she loved.

While she was going home in her chair she could not but feel that she had hitherto been an undutiful daughter, never having taken any interest in her father's birthday, and being quite unacquainted with its date. She hoped fervently that Miss Read would not put herself to the trouble to find out exactly on what day of what month it took place. The result of such an investigation might be a little awkward.

It so happened that Miss Read took no trouble in this direction. All her attention was turned upon the task of making a presentable miniature out of the indifferent material with which she had been supplied for this purpose. She began wondering if it might not be possible to get O'Brien to sit to her half a dozen times in order to give her a chance of doing credit to herself and to the gentleman's fine features.

She was still pondering over this question when her attendant entered with a card, saying that a gentleman had come to wait on her.

She read the name on the card, and uttered an exclamation of surprise, for the name was that of the man of whom she was thinking--Mr. O'Brien, of Drury Lane Theatre.

She had wholly failed to recover herself before he entered the studio, and advanced to her, making his most respectful bow. He politely ignored her flutter-ings--he was used to see her sex overwhelmed when he appeared.

“Madam, I beg that you will pardon this intrusion,” he said. “I have taken the liberty of waiting upon you, knowing of your great capacity as an artist.”

“Oh, sir!” cried the fluttered little lady, making her courtesy.

“Nay, madam, I have no intention of flattering one to whom compliments must be as customary as they are well deserved,” said the actor. “I come not to confer a favour, madam, but to entreat one. In short, Miss Read, I am desirous of presenting a valued friend of mine with the portrait of a lady for whom he entertains a sincere devotion. For certain reasons, which I need not specify, the lady cannot sit to you; but I have here a picture of her poorly done in chalks, from which I hope it may be in your power to make a good--a good---- Good heavens! what do I behold? 'Tis she--she--Lady Susan herself!”

He had glanced round the studio in the course of his speech, and his eyes had alighted upon the newly-begun portrait of Lady Susan. It represented only a few days' work, but the likeness to the original had been ably caught, and no one could fail to recognise the features.

He took a hurried step to the easel, and the air made by his motion dislodged a print which the artist had laid on the little ledge that supported the stretcher of the canvas. The print fluttered to the floor; he picked it up, and gave another exclamation on recognising his own portrait in the mezzotint.

Looking from the print to the picture and then at Miss Read, he said in a low voice, after a pause--“Madam, I am bewildered. Unless you come to my assistance I protest I shall feel that I am dreaming and asleep. Pray, madam, enlighten me--for Heaven's sake tell me how this”--he held up the print--“came into such close juxtaposition with that”--he pointed to the portrait on the easel.

“'Tis easily told, sir,” said Miss Read, smiling archly. “But I must leave it to your sense of honour to keep the matter a profound secret.”

“Madam,” said Mr. O'Brien with dignity, “Madam, I am an Irishman.”

“That is enough, sir; I know that I can trust you. The truth is, Mr. O'Brien, that Lady Susan is sitting to me for her portrait--that portrait. 'Twas marvellous that you should recognise it so soon. I have not worked at it for many hours.”

“Madam, your art is beyond that of the magician. 'Tis well known that every form depicted by Miss Read not only breathes but speaks.”

“Oh, sir, I vow that you are a flatterer; still, you did recognise the portrait--'tis to be presented to Lady Sarah Bunbury.”

“Her ladyship will be the most fortunate of womankind.”

“Which ladyship, sir--Lady Susan or Lady Sarah?”

“Both, madam.” The Irishman was bowing with his hand on his heart. “But the print--my poor likeness?”

“That is the secret, sir; but you will not betray it when I tell you that Lady Susan entrusted that print to me in order that I might make a copy in miniature for her to present to her father, Lord Ilchester. You are his favourite actor, Mr. O'Brien, as no doubt you are aware.”

“'Tis the first I heard of it, madam.” There was a suggestion of mortification in the actor's tone.

“Ah, 'twould be impossible for Mr. O'Brien to keep an account of all his conquests. But now you can understand how it is that her ladyship wishes her intention to be kept a secret: she means to add to the acceptability of her gift by presenting it as a surprise. But her secret is safe in your keeping, sir?”

“I swear to it, madam.” Mr. O'Brien spoke mechanically. His hand was on his chin: he was clearly musing upon some question that perplexed him. He took a turn up and down the studio, and then said:

“Madam, it has just occurred to me that you, as a great artist----”

“Nay, sir,” interposed the blushing painteress.

“I will not take back a word, madam,” said the actor, holding up one inexorable hand. “I say that surely so great an artist as you should disdain to do the work of a mere copyist. Why should not you confer upon me the honour of sitting to you for the miniature portrait?”

“Oh, sir, that is the one favour which I meant to ask of you, if my courage had not failed me.”

“Madam, you will confer immortality upon a simple man through that magic wand which you wield.” He swept his hand with inimitable grace over the mahl-stick which lay against the easel. “I am all impatient to begin my sitting, Miss Read. Pray let me come to-morrow.”

“Her ladyship comes to-morrow.”

“I shall precede her ladyship. Name the hour, madam.”

Without the least demur Miss Read named an hour which could enable him to be far away from the studio before Lady Susan's arrival.

And yet the next day Lady Susan entered the studio quite half an hour before Mr. O'Brien had left it. Of course she was surprised. Had not Miss Read received a letter, making her aware of the fact that she, Lady Susan, would be forced, owing to circumstances over which she had no control, to sit for her portrait an hour earlier than that of her appointment?

When Miss Read said she had received no such letter, Lady Susan said some very severe things about her maid. Miss Read was greatly fluttered, but she explained in as few words as possible how it was that Mr. O'Brien had come forward in the cause of art, and was sitting for the miniature. Lady Susan quickly got over her surprise. (Had Miss Read seen the letter which her ladyship had received the previous evening from Mr. O'Brien she would not have marvelled as she did at the rapidity with which her ladyship recovered her self-possession.) Her ladyship was quite friendly with the actor, and thanked him for his courtesy in offering to give up so much of his time solely for the sake of increasing the value of her gift to her father.

A few minutes later, while they were discussing some point in the design of the picture, Miss Read was called out of the studio, and in a second Lady Susan was in his arms.

“Fate is on our side, darling girl!” he whispered.

“I could not live without you, my charmer. But I was bold! I took my fate in both hands when I wrote you that letter.”

“Dear one, 'twas the instinct of true love that made you guess the truth--that I wanted the portrait because I loved the original. Oh, dear one, what have I not suffered during the year that has parted us!” said Lady Susan, with her head upon his shoulder.

The Irishman found it necessary to fall back upon the seductive tongue of his country for words of endearment to bestow upon her. He called her “Sheila,” “a cushla machree,” “mavourneen,” and also “aroon.” But when Miss Read returned to the studio they were still discussing a purely artistic point in connection with the portrait.

Of course now that O'Brien knew the secret of the miniature there was no reason that Miss Read could see why he and Lady Susan should not meet at her studio. To do her justice, neither could her ladyship perceive why they should not come together at this place. They came every day, and every day Lady Susan begged that Miss Read would allow her to rest in her ante-room after the fatigue of the sitting. She rested in that room, and in the company of O'Brien, until at last Miss Read became frightened; and one day told her friend Lord Cathcart something of her fears. Lord Cathcart, in his turn, told Lord Ilchester. His lordship was furious, but cautious.

He wanted evidence of his daughter's infatuation. He got it the next morning, for he insisted on seeing a letter which arrived for Lady Susan, addressed in the handwriting of Lady Sarah. This letter turned out to be from O'Brien, and Susan confessed that her father's surmise was correct--all the letters which she had recently received in Lady Sarah's hand had come from O'Brien.

Her father was foolish enough to grant her permission to say farewell to her lover, and thus the two were allowed to come together once more. They had a long talk, in the course of which O'Brien communicated to her a secret of the theatre, which was that Mr. Garrick and Mr. Colman were engaged in the construction of a comedy to be called _The Clandestine Marriage_, and that Mr. Garrick told him that he, O'Brien, was to play the part of the lover--the gentleman who had married the lady in secret.

Lady Susan parted from her lover, not in tears, but in laughter.

The conclusion of the story is told by Horace Walpole, writing to Lord Hertford.

“You will have heard of the sad misfortune that has happened to Lord Ilchester by his daughter's marriage with O'Brien, the actor,” wrote Walpole; and then went on to tell how Lady Susan had made her confession to her father, vowing to have nothing more to do with her lover if she were but permitted to bid him good-bye. “You will be amazed,” continued Walpole, “even this was granted. The parting scene happened the beginning of the week. On Friday she came of age, and on Saturday morning--instead of being under lock and key in the country--walked downstairs, took her footman, said she was going to breakfast with Lady Sarah, but would call at Miss Read's; in the street pretended to recollect a particular cap in which she was to be drawn, sent the footman back for it, whipped into a hackney chair, was married at Covent Garden Church, and set out for Mr. O'Brien's villa at Dunstable.”

Unlike many other alliances of a similar type, this marriage turned out a happy one. O'Brien was induced to leave the stage and to depart with his wife for America. He obtained a grant of some forty thousand acres in the province of New York, and had he retained this property and taken the right side during the Revolution his descendants would to-day be the richest people in the world. A few years later he was given a good appointment in Bermuda; and finally, in 1770, he was made Receiver-General of the County of Dorset, and became popular as a country squire. He died in 1815, and Lady Susan survived him by twelve years.

It was Lady Sarah who had made the imprudent marriage. She submitted to the cruelties of her husband for fourteen years, and on her leaving his roof he obtained a divorce.

In 1781, nineteen years after her first marriage, she wedded the Hon. George Napier, and became the mother of three of the greatest Englishmen of the nineteenth century. She lived until she was eighty. Her friend Lady Susan followed her to the grave a year later, at the age of eighty-four.

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's A Georgian Pageant, by Frank Frankfort Moore