The south front of Brandon Hall was reddened by the last rays of sunset
when Lord Brandon summoned the servants to bring wine and glasses. For
the five people seated on the grassy terrace before the old Manor House
it had been an afternoon of interest and deep significance. Absorbed in
the reading of Richard Sheridan’s latest play, time’s passing had been
forgotten, but now the appearance of footmen bearing laden trays was
welcomed by all.
“A call from labor to refreshment,” cried William Woodward, rising with
alacrity. “Speaking for myself, never was it more opportune. My mouth’s
as dry as a lime pit. You’re the host, Charlie, so give us a toast,
with no long speech to usher it in, an’ you love me.”
Brandon sprang to his feet and held aloft a brimming glass.
“The shortest possible, Will; a quartette of words: Here’s to ‘The
Rivals’!”
“Coupled with the name of him who is without a rival–Dick Sheridan,”
put in the elder of the two ladies present.
“No, Mrs. Lessingham, I beg of you,” protested Sheridan. “I also am a
Sahara of thirst. I cannot drink to myself, so, here’s to the play!”
“‘The Rivals’! ‘The Rivals’!” cried each one, rising.
“And may the verdict of London be as favorable as our own!” added
Brandon, amid the clinking of glasses that preceded the drinking of the
toast.
“Indeed, Dick,” spoke Mrs. Lessingham, as glasses were refilled, “you
deserve a double portion of wine, for while we enacted one character
apiece you played a dozen in reading the parts we had no actors to
speak.”
“I should have acquitted myself better under the inspiration of two such
pairs of eyes,” said Sheridan, gallantly.
“The play will take London by storm,” declared Woodward. “It was ‘The
Rivals’ in a double sense; Mrs. Lessingham, Miss Barsanti, and myself
from Drury Lane rivaling you and Sheridan from Covent Garden.”
“‘Tis not rivalry, Will, but coöperation,” corrected Brandon. “An
alliance, not competition, for next week Richard Brinsley Sheridan is
lessee of Drury Lane.”
“Ah, I guessed that was in the wind, Charlie, from what you said in the
lawyer’s office.”
“Are we then at your mercy, Dick?” exclaimed the younger lady,
beseechingly. “I trust I pleased you in my portrayal of your heroine
this afternoon.”
“I fell in love with her impersonation, Miss Barsanti,” Sheridan assured
her, bowing.
“Does Garrick retire, then?” she asked, curiously. “He has threatened to
for years.”
“Garrick retires,” answered Brandon. “So here’s to the setting sun!” He
raised his glass. “To Garrick, the noblest Roman of them all!”
“We come from London to learn the news that most concerns us,” cried
Mrs. Lessingham. “Let’s make the most of our opportunity, Kate, and
curry favor. Dick, we’re making eyes at you. Away with the setting sun;
it’s gone. My toast is to the rising sun!”
“Zounds, Mrs. Lessingham,” protested Lord Brandon, “although the
material sun has set, you may be too hasty in dismissing the setting sun
from the stage. I heard just now the impatient jangle of a bell that may
mean Garrick himself. I asked him here to-day, and although he answered
neither yes nor no, I expect to see him.”
“Gracious, Charlie, you should have given us warning!” exclaimed Miss
Barsanti. “Should one of his ill-tempers possess him, which is likely
enough after such a journey, what will he say when he finds three
members of his company in the very stronghold of the enemy?”
“Have no fear, lady. Garrick and Sheridan are friends, not rivals, and I
shall never be called upon to enact the part of Sir Lucius O’Trigger
between them.”
“Garrick is my friend,” assented Sheridan, “and we are in the midst of
amicable negotiations, resulting, we hope, in greatly augmenting
Garrick’s wealth and Sheridan’s fame.”
“Each to his humor, and both will be pleased!” cried Mrs. Lessingham.
“We have drunk to Mammon, and now I give you Ambition as a toast. Here’s
to the rising sun that will eclipse all others! Dick, I adore you!”
Sheridan threw back his head, and laughed in delight at the lady’s
eulogy, but his merriment ceased with startling abruptness as a footman
appeared, and made the very distinct announcement:
“Mrs. Sheridan!”
Sheridan turned quickly to face the hooded and cloaked figure following
the servant, and the other men stood up more slowly. Miss Barsanti
remained seated, while Mrs. Lessingham slowly lowered her glass to the
table before her, and stood with eyes downcast and lips compressed.
“So, Mr. Sheridan,” said the newcomer, bitterly and deliberately, “I
find you rioting here, wine-swilling, rousing the echoes with drunken
laughter, while ruin has fallen on us in London.”
“My dear, my dear!” implored Sheridan, endeavoring to take her hand, but
she struck his aside, clenching and unclenching her own.
“You said you’d be gone a day,” she continued, “and a week has passed,
with no word from you, while I, striving to save your credit and your
honor, am insulted by the lowest in London. The writs are upon us, and
your creditors in possession of your house, while you roar with drunken
laughter at the flattery of brazen women.”
“You are beside yourself, my dear. The journey has exhausted you. I have
been away but three days. My stay here has been imperative and
important; important not only to me, but to my creditors. We partake of
but a parting glass on the eve of my return to London.”
“A parting glass! Your return to London! Your return to London will be
speedy enough, for you will go back with me within the hour. Am I to
battle alone with the results of your spendthrift folly?”
She pointed dramatically to Mrs. Lessingham.
“Who is this creature that cries to all the world that she adores you?”
“My dear, my dear, I implore you,” murmured Sheridan, helplessly, but
Brandon, stepping forward, intervened with a smile.
“Mrs. Sheridan, I am the culprit. These ladies and this gentleman are my
guests, as Mr. Sheridan is; as I hope you will consent to be. Mrs.
Lessingham but expressed her admiration, not of your husband, but of his
genius in writing a play that will make the broker’s men vanish as
though a wand from the Arabian Nights were flourished over them.”
“So you are Mrs. Lessingham,” said Mrs. Sheridan, looking her scornfully
up and down. “And pray, is there no _Mr._ Lessingham to be the recipient
of your admiration?”
“Madam,” responded the other, suavely, “’tis not the fashion to adore our
husbands, and I see you are well acquainted with the mode.”
“Dear Mrs. Sheridan, permit me a word or two,” begged her host. “We have
good news for you, if you will but do me the honor to listen. We have
been rehearsing your husband’s play, which promises great success.
These, the actors in it, are my guests: Mrs. Lessingham, Miss Barsanti,
and Will Woodward, all of Drury Lane Theater, who, at this moment,
expect their chief, David Garrick. Indeed, we mistook your ring at the
gate for his, and Garrick’s presence would cast a mantle of
respectability over even the inmates of Brandon Hall.”
“And where, sir, are the ladies of your family?” asked Mrs. Sheridan.
“Why do they not contribute the virtue of their presence, pending the
arrival of the reputable Mr. Garrick?”
“My dear Elizabeth,” urged Sheridan, “I beseech you to remember what we
owe Lord Brandon at this crisis. Through his generosity any action of
our creditors is nullified.”
“You told me, Richard, that Lord Brandon had an aunt and a cousin, who
did the honors of his house. I see neither one nor the other in this
company.”
“Madam,” said Brandon, courteously, “my aunt and cousin differ from
myself in this respect; they are not interested in the drama, and it
sometimes happens that a man has not that influence with the sex to
which he feels his merit entitles him.”
Sheridan’s manifest embarrassment had communicated itself to the other
members of the little party, and at this juncture Woodward interposed,
saying:
“Mr. Sheridan, we should sketch over that last act again before dinner.
Have we your permission to retire, Lord Brandon?”
“Ah, yes,” agreed Brandon, gratefully accepting the timely suggestion.
“Many of the lines require more study than we were able to give them
this afternoon. I will see you later, and may perhaps throw in a
suggestion or two.”
He bowed to Mrs. Lessingham and Miss Barsanti, who curtsied, and retired
in the wake of Woodward. Sheridan walked restlessly to and fro, while
Mrs. Sheridan gazed after the retreating trio, and then turned with some
apprehension from her husband to Lord Brandon.
“Lord Brandon, you have no conception of what I have had to endure these
three days,” she said, more meekly than she had hitherto spoken.
“I am sure you endured it nobly, Mrs. Sheridan, and, indeed, you have my
deepest sympathy. Who has been more tracked down by creditors than I?
And if I have escaped prison, it was not through plenitude of money, but
by amazing good luck, and some knack in the art of swift disappearance.
All that is happily past, thank fortune, for both of us, Mrs. Sheridan.”
“Our house in Orchard Street is like a raided den of thieves. An
execution has been issued, and they are taking an inventory of
everything we possess. I have been the victim of ribaldry and laughter,
enduring insult and scorn from the bailiff’s lowest minions. And to find
my husband laughing and drinking with these painted Jezebels–“
She broke down with a sob, but Brandon patted her soothingly on the
shoulder, his paternal attitude contrasting ludicrously with his boyish
face.
“There, there, Mrs. Sheridan. We men are brutes at best, but your
husband is blameless. Only an hour ago, during the play, he was wishing
you were here, that he might benefit from your counsel and sympathy.”
“I have no desire to be harsh, or unjust–“
“Indeed, madam, you are neither. It is the anxiety of these last days
that has overset you, and the tiring journey from London. Let me offer
you a glass of wine.”
She sipped the wine he poured for her, dabbing her eyes meanwhile with a
handkerchief.
“I try to be scrupulously fair and just to every one,” she murmured,
“and certainly not less so to my husband, whom I love dearly in spite
of–“
“Ah, madam, what would we wretched men be, lacking the forgiveness of
your angelic sex? We need it constantly–need it as much as we deserve
it little. Your husband is as one apart. His thoughts are of you alone,
and who should know him better than I? Would that I profited more by his
example. And now, Mrs. Sheridan, may I conduct you to your room? I am
giving a little dinner to-night in honor of Dick’s superb play, and your
presence will render the feast the more enjoyable.”
“No, no; I must return to-night. Richard, you will come with me?”
“As you please, Elizabeth.”
“But surely you will not leave Brandon Hall this evening,” urged the
young lord. “You are most welcome here.”
“I would rather go, Charlie,” said Sheridan, with some decision. “I have
done here all that is possible, and considering the state of matters in
London, my place is there until the house is cleared. Garrick is not
likely to come; possibly he cannot get away. I will see him in town.”
“Well, Dick, I shall not press you. You know that both Mrs. Sheridan and
yourself are welcome to what my house contains. Old Sharp’s assistant is
coming with documents for me to sign. He should have been here now, but
he is not a valiant horseman, and has doubtless taken his time upon the
way. However, if you are determined to go, you must have some
refreshment before you depart. Pardon me, madam. Dick, I leave you for
a few minutes, and hope you will use the time in persuading Mrs.
Sheridan to postpone the journey until to-morrow,” and going up the
steps from the terrace, Lord Brandon disappeared through the great
entrance door of the Hall.
Mrs. Sheridan turned to her husband, who stopped his pacing of the
terrace, and gazed gloomily at her.
“Richard, I see you are displeased with me, but what was I to do with
those horrible men in the house, and the knowledge that at last we were
paupers?”
“I am not censuring you, Betty, but our affairs are much less dismal
than you suppose.”
“How can they be worse? The bills are enormous, and we haven’t a penny
to pay them. We are in the gutter, and extravagance has done it. How
often have I warned you?”
“Yes, yes, my dear; there is little use in talking of that.”
“We are in the very deeps of poverty, Richard, yet I am not dismayed. I
will economize and work my fingers to the bone for you.”
“No need for that, I think,” returned her husband, coldly. “How came you
here? By stage coach?”
Mrs. Sheridan drew herself up haughtily.
“No; we are not down to that, yet. I should think, Richard, you would
not wish your wife to travel like a bagman.”
“I merely asked how you came.”
“I ordered a chaise, and, as I have often heard you say that time is
money, I had two postilions, and four horses.”
“Yes, time is money, when you have to pay for it,” said Sheridan,
laughing grimly.
“There, I see you grudge me the right even to travel in comfort!”
The lady put her handkerchief to her eyes.
“Not at all; I was about to suggest half a dozen outriders. A coach and
four is an admirable start for an economical life.”
“You always doled out silver if it was for me, but scattered gold where
your own pleasures were concerned,” she said, in muffled tones. “Here
are you in this luxurious mansion, while I am left in a hired house–“
“Tut-tut, Betty. Our house is more luxurious than Brandon Hall.”
“You desert me for these painted creatures!”
“They are not painted, but are capable, hard-working, kind-hearted
women; neither were you deserted. Lord Brandon asked you to come with
me, but you refused to leave London.”
“How could I know that disaster was impending?”
“Very well, Elizabeth; let us agree to say no more about it.”
“The return journey costs but half as much as coming here, so, if you
look at it the right way, it was economical, for you will return with
me. I thought of that. If you but gave thought to the future as I do, we
would not now be involved in disaster.”
“There is no disaster, my dear. I’ve a thousand pounds in my pocket at
this moment.”
“Why, where did you get it, Richard? You had nothing when you left
London!” And the lady dropped her handkerchief and hands to her lap.
“No matter for that. It is borrowed money, but we have to-day rehearsed
a play that will refund it, and next week I shall be lessee of Drury
Lane Theater. So cheer up, my girl. Instead of being at the end, we are
at the beginning of prosperity. Lord Brandon has lent me the money, and
will lend twenty thousand more before many days are past.”
“Richard, I will stop here a week if you like.” And Mrs. Sheridan rose,
and crossed to her husband.
“No; we go at once to London,” said Sheridan, firmly. “Here comes
Brandon,” he added hastily, as the young man ran lightly down the steps.
“Dick,” he cried, “I hope you set forth in glowing language the
excellences of this inn under its new management, and have praised the
landlord as the best of hosts.”
“You were always one of Betty’s favorites, Charlie, so it was
unnecessary for me to paint the lily. But we must get back to London at
once. Our house will need fumigating, and luckily I have the sulphur. I
hope you’ll have a jolly dinner to-night, and we’re both sorry to
leave.”
“Then come in with me, and partake a foretaste of the feast.”
Mrs. Sheridan took his arm, and the three entered the house together.
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