Выбрать главу

"But that is very hard on Aunt Geoffrey," said Fred.

"Frightfully. Any one who was less selfish would have insisted on mamma's coming here, instead of which Aunt Susan only complains of her sister and brother, and everybody else, for going out of London, when she may be taken suddenly ill at any time. She is in such a nervous state that Mr. Peyton cannot tell what might be the consequence," said Beatrice, in an imitative tone, which made Fred laugh.

"I am sure I should leave her to take care of herself," said he.

"So do the whole family except ourselves; they are all worn out by her querulousness, and are not particularly given to patience or unselfishness either. But mamma is really fond of her, because she was kind to her when she came home from India, and she manages to keep her quiet better than anyone else can. She can very seldom resist mamma's cheerful voice, which drives off half her nerves at once. You cannot think how funny it is to see how Aunt Amelia always seems to stroke the cat the wrong way, and mamma to smooth her down the right."

A lull in the conversation left these last words audible, and Mr. Langford said, "What is that about stroking the cat, Queenie?"

"O you are telling it all-O don't, Bee!" cried Willy.

And with certain jokes about cats and bags, which seemed excessively to discomfit Willy, who protested the cat was not in the bag at all-it was the partridges-the conversation drifted away again from the younger party.

As soon as dinner was over, Beatrice again disappeared, after begging her grandmamma to allow the great Indian screen to remain as it at present stood, spread out so as to cut off one end of the room, where there was a door opening into the study. Behind this screen frequent rustlings were heard, with now and then a burst of laughing or whispering, and a sound of moving furniture, which so excited Mrs. Langford, that, starting up, she exclaimed that she must go and see what they were doing.

"We are taking great care, grandmamma," called Alexander. "We won't hurt it."

This, by showing so far that there was something to be hurt, was so far from reassuring her, that she would certainly have set out on a voyage of discovery, but for Mr. Langford, who professed himself convinced that all was right, and said he would not have the Busy Bee disturbed.

She came in to tea, bringing Alex and Willy with her-the latter, in a marvellous state of mystery and excitement, longing to tell all himself, and yet in great terror lest the others should tell.

As soon as the tea was despatched, the three actors departed, and presently there was a call from behind the screen, "Are you ready, good people?"

"Go it," answered Carey.

"Are the elders ready?" said Beatrice's voice.

"Papa, don't go on talking to Uncle Geoffrey!" cried Willy.

"Ay, ay, all attention," said grandpapa. "Now for it!"

The screen was folded back, and discovered Alex in a pasteboard crown, ermine tippet, and purple mantle, sitting enthroned with Beatrice (a tiara and feathers on her head) at his side, and kneeling before them a nondescript article, consisting chiefly of a fur cloak, a fur cap, adorned with a pair of grey squirrel cuffs, sewn ingeniously into the form of ears, a boa by way of tail, and an immense pair of boots. As Uncle Geoffrey said, the cat was certainly out of the bag, and it proceeded in due form to take two real partridges from the bag, and present them tot he king and princess in the name of the Marquis Carabbas.

The king and princess made some consultation as to who the marquis might be, the princess proposing to send for the Peerage, and the king cross-examining puss in an incredulous way which greatly puzzled him, until at last he bethought himself of exclaiming, in a fierce manner, "I've told you the truth, Mr. King, and if you won't believe me, I can't help it!" and walked off on his hind legs in as dignified and resentful a manner as his boots would let him; repairing to the drawing-room to have his accoutrements admired, while the screen was again spread in preparation for Scene II.

Scene II. presented but a half-length, a shawl being hung in front, so as to conceal certain incongruities. A great arm-chair was wheeled close to the table, on which stood an aged black jack out of the hall, a quart measure, and a silver tankard; while in the chair, a cushion on his head, and a great carving-knife held like a sceptre in his hand, reclined Alex, his bulk enlarged by at least two pillows, over which an old, long-breasted white satin waistcoat, embroidered with silver, had with some difficulty been brought to meet. Before him stood a little figure in a cloth cap, set jauntily on one side, decorated with a fox's brush, and with Mrs. Frederick Langford's three feathers, and a coat bearing marvellous resemblance to Beatrice's own black velvet spencer, crossed over one shoulder by a broad blue ribbon, which Henrietta knew full well. "Do thou stand for my father," began this droll little shape, "and examine me in the particulars of my life."

It was not badly caried out; Prince Henry, when he did not giggle, acted beautifully; and Falstaff really did very well, though his eyes were often directed downwards, and the curious, by standing on tiptoe, obtained not only a view of Prince Hal's pink petticoat, but of a great Shakespeare laid open on the floor; and a very low bow on the part of the heir apparent, when about to change places with his fat friend, was strongly suspected of being for the purpose of turning over a leaf. It was with great spirit that the parting appeal was given, "Banish fat Jack, and banish all the world!" And ther was great applause when fat Jack and Prince Hal jumped up and drew the screen forward again; though Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Mary were cruel enough to utter certain historical and antiquarian doubts as to whether the Prince of Wales was likely to wear the three feathers and ribbon of the garter in his haunts at Eastcheap.

In the concluding scene the deputy lieutenant's uniform made a great figure, with the addition of the long-breasted waistcoat, a white scarf, and the white cockade, adorning Alex, who, with a boot-jack under his arm, looked as tall and as rigid as he possibly could, with a very low bow, which was gracefully returned by a royal personage in a Scottish bonnet, also bearing the white cockade, a tartan scarf, and the blue ribbon. Altogether, Prince Charles Edward and the Baron of Bradwardine stood confessed; the character was solemnly read, and the shoe pulled off, or supposed to be, as the lower screen still remained to cut off the view; and then the Baron indulged in a lengthy yawn and stretch, while Prince Charlie, skipping into the midst of the audience, danced round Mr. Langford, asking if he had guessed it.

CHAPTER X.

BEATRICE had not judged amiss when she thought charade-acting an amusement likely to take the fancy of her cousins. The great success of her boot-jack inspired both Frederick and Henrietta with eagerness to imitate it; and nothing was talked of but what was practicable in the way of scenes, words, and decorations. The Sutton Leigh party were to dine at the Hall again on Thursday, and it was resolved that there should be a grand charade, with all the splendour that due preparation could bestow upon it. "It was such an amusement to grandpapa," as Beatrice told Henrietta, "and it occupied Fred so nicely," as she said to her father; both which observations being perfectly true, Mr. Geoffrey Langford was very willing to promote the sport, and to tranquillise his mother respecting the disarrangement of her furniture.