Chapter XVIII

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."

"My dear William, we have been through all this before. You know, I should have liked nothing better, but I decided, after due consideration, that I could not do justice to the principal part, when I had to be directing the full company, all on stage at once. You hardly realize my responsibility. But, rest assured, you did not do it so badly."

"I think you managed most wonderfully, Mr. Bertram," said Mrs. Ferrars. "To have to arrange the scenes, drill the other performers, and appear in every scene yourself! It was a task few people could have undertaken." Mr. Bertram bowed, as if there were a foregone conclusion.

"Mr. Bertram has had a good deal of experience in private theatricals," said Georgiana.

"I have, indeed," said that gentlemen. "Few men in England have had more, I should say, and anyone who is known to be fairly well up in these things, is naturally in request whenever they are going forward. And I have been lucky, too, in my companies. I do not think I have ever known a real failure, except perhaps once--"

Mrs. Ferrars's attention was just then called off, and he turned to Georgiana. "Did I ever tell you, Miss Darcy, about that one time when we attempted to do a little acting at my father's house--at Mansfield Park?"

"No, I do not think you did."

"Well, it is a long story; it might not wholly interest you--thank you, yes, some cold chicken--but the substance of it was that we had decided to act a play, amongst ourselves, you know; a pleasant party--divided among the two households, as this might be; just the very people for acting; free to rehearse--it is true my brother had made some difficulties; but all was going smoothly and our friends seemed to be then all one could wish. I am not sure that Miss Crawford had much idea of acting; but still, she might have improved."

"Miss Crawford!" exclaimed Georgiana, and involuntarily glanced round to make sure that Colonel Fitzwilliam had not overheard her. Seeing him occupied in talking to William Price, she continued in a lower tone: "I did not know that you knew Miss Crawford, and I am so much interested. Have you heard anything of her lately?"

Mr. Bertram could hardly believe his ears. He looked at Miss Darcy in the greatest astonishment. "Certainly I know, or used to know, Miss Crawford, but, naturally, I have not heard anything of her for several years."

Georgiana was puzzled by his manner, and felt that in some strange way she had made a mistake; so after a moment's pause she said: "It was stupid of me not to recollect that you must be acquainted with Miss Crawford too, as I was already aware that Mr. Price was. I suppose it was at the same time you were speaking of--at your father's house--that he met her."

Mr. Bertram had by this time partly recovered from the shock of finding there was anyone who did not know of the Rushworth-Crawford case, and said: "I beg your pardon, Miss Darcy, but your question was a surprise to me. No, I have quite lost sight of Miss Crawford, and I daresay you know more of her now than I do. You are a friend of hers, I assume."

"No," returned Georgiana, beginning to regret having pursued the subject, "I have only met her once, for a few minutes, but my brother and sister knew her fairly well in Bath."

"In Bath? Ah, yes, I heard that they had settled there."

Georgiana now wished nothing better than to find a new topic or a new companion without delay; but Mr. Bertram, having rapidly disposed of his cold chicken, began again: "You must not mistake me, Miss Darcy. I should be very glad to hear good news of Miss Crawford once more. It is a long time since our families held any intercourse, for--without going into details, her brother behaved like--indeed, is--an intolerable scoundrel; but as to his sister, she had nothing to do with that. She enjoyed amusing herself, I fancy, as much as most people do, but there was really no harm in it, as events proved. We all thought her a very bright, pretty, accomplished girl. But one thing followed another, and, of course, people are bound to hold by their relations, are they not?"

"Yes, indeed," assented Georgiana warmly, who had listened with the deepest interest to this recital, which, fragmentary though it was, seemed to agree with that strange rumour which Lady Catherine had written about from Bath. She pondered over it, and though reluctant to be indebted to Mr. Bertram for further information, she could not help wanting to have her own opinion once more confirmed.

"I am glad to hear you say that, Mr. Bertram. I thought Miss Crawford charming, and I heard the same from everyone who met her; but I think she may have been misjudged--blamed, perhaps, some time or other, for the faults of those who belonged to her."

"Quite true, Miss Darcy; I have no doubt you have hit upon the secret. Indeed, my brother-in-law, Yates, used to say much the same. She was certainly a very handsome girl, and it was a thousand pities she never had the chance to play Amelia. I did not finish telling you about our play: the parts were all cast, the stage was prepared, the rehearsals in full progress. Yates was, after myself, the leading spirit--I think you said you had met my friend Yates, Miss Darcy--"

He was fairly started, and Georgiana had time to grow weary of the history of _Lovers' Vows_ and its ultimate conclusion, before the announcement was made of "Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars's carriage," which broke up the party. Everyone moved towards the hall, and cloaks were fetched while Mrs. Jennings loudly uttered her good-nights interspersed with many complimentary remarks to the actors. William Price had hurried back to the room they had called the green room, to search for a cherished ornament of Kitty's which she had mislaid, so he escaped from congratulations to which, in his case, Mrs. Jennings would have given a double edge, and Kitty contrived to avert her share by murmuring as she embraced her guest: "I shall come and see you to-morrow." Nevertheless, Mrs. Jennings was not to be entirely baulked of her intention, and the long conversation between Mr. Bertram and Miss Darcy had attracted her notice; so in wishing Tom Bertram good-night, she managed to add a few words, felicitating him upon his success in another field besides that of the drama. Laughing heartily at his look of blank astonishment, she passed on, and as she never felt quite as well able to approach Miss Darcy on these subjects as other people, she contented herself with a sly glance, remarking: "Well, Miss Darcy, and what a delightful evening it has been! We have not heard the last of these charades yet, for many a long day, have we? Why, all the pleasantest part of them is still to come, I fancy."

Georgiana succeeded in avoiding a reply; she supposed the allusion was to Kitty, but she always preferred _not_ to understand Mrs. Jennings whenever possible. The visitors directly afterwards went away, and the ladies retired, the gentlemen sitting up for some time longer.