Jane And The Man Of The Cloth Part 21

"Her brother is beside the d.u.c.h.ess."

I turned to look for Her Grace.

"The Harlequin?"

"Henry the Eighth."

"So that that is the famous Hugh Conyngham! I wonder I did not observe it before! Who can see his present self, and fail to trace his tragic Hamlet? His murderous Macbeth? His pathetic Gamester? The n.o.bility of suffering is writ in every line of his countenance!" is the famous Hugh Conyngham! I wonder I did not observe it before! Who can see his present self, and fail to trace his tragic Hamlet? His murderous Macbeth? His pathetic Gamester? The n.o.bility of suffering is writ in every line of his countenance!"

"With charcoal, if not by nature," the gentleman observed.

"And are you then a player, sir? Claim you some acquaintance with the pair?" It was absurd in me, I own, to cry such admiration at Conyngham's discovery, but so much of my meagre purse has gone to furnish his, his, in supplying the coveted seat in a box for the actor's performance, that I may be excused my excesses of enthusiasm. I have invested as much in Conyngham as Henry in all his four percents. in supplying the coveted seat in a box for the actor's performance, that I may be excused my excesses of enthusiasm. I have invested as much in Conyngham as Henry in all his four percents.8 "I have not that distinction," the Knight replied with an inclination of the head. "I may claim the accomplishment of dancing only, and that with indifferent skill. But I must beg for the indulgence of your hand, fair Shepherdess, or suffer the charge of impertinence, in having monopolised your attention too long."

I hesitated, with thoughts of Lord Harold, and the necessities of duty; but a glance at the floor revealed the Lady Desdemona, all smiles and animation, going down the dance with her partner opposite. The White Harlequin, it seemed, had prevailed in his suit; his appearance of attention to the Dowager had been rewarded with the hand of her granddaughter. Lady Desdemona's eyes were bright, and her complexion brilliant; but how, I thought with vexation, was I to report her partner's name? For a masquerade is ill-suited to espionage; conjecture only might supply the place of the man; and I should be reduced to outright eavesdropping, if I were to learn anything to Lord Harold's purpose. To the dance floor, then, with the greatest despatch.

I bowed, my own mask held high, and took my suitor's proffered arm; and found to my relief that armour may be formed of cloth, however shot through with silver, and pose no impediment to a country dance, though it reveal nothing of the Knight within.

A FULL HALF-HOUR OF HEATED EXERCISE PROVED INSUFFICIENT TO THE fulfilment of my schemes, however; it was impossible to over-listen anything to Lord Harold's purpose in so great a throng; and so, with a civility on either side, I abandoned my partner for a comfortable seat in the supper-room near Henry and Eliza. I had divined only that the White Harlequin made a shapely leg and was a proficient in the dance, with a vigorous step and a palm decidedly moist, as he handed Lady Desdemona along the line of couples. She seemed happy in her choice of partner, and moved in a fine flow of spirits; he he was a spare, neat figure possessed of a hearty laugh and a general conviviality, who comported himself as a gentleman; and what was visible of his hair was brown. There my researches ended. was a spare, neat figure possessed of a hearty laugh and a general conviviality, who comported himself as a gentleman; and what was visible of his hair was brown. There my researches ended.

The delights of cold fowl and b.u.t.tered prawns, white soup and ratafia cakes, were all but consumed, and Henry had embarked upon the errand of refilling our cups of punch, when I began to consider of Madam Lefroy. Anne Lefroy has long been our neighbour in Steventon, being established in the rectory at Ashe these two decades at least; and though she is full five-and-twenty years my senior, she remains my dearest friend in the world. The claims of friends.h.i.+p had recently drawn her to Bath-her acquaintance with the Dowager being of several decades' standing-and the previous fortnight spent in her company had been one of the most delightful I could recall. Our tastes are peculiarly suited the one to the other, and there is no one's society I should more eagerly claim in good times or in bad.

It was Madam who refined my taste in poetry, who improved my ear for music, who taught me that cleverness is far more than mere surface wit. From Madam, too, I learned that even ladies ladies might converse about the nation's affairs- for as Madam feelingly says, when so great a figure as Mr. Sheridan confuses a parliamentary bench for Drury Lane, how can might converse about the nation's affairs- for as Madam feelingly says, when so great a figure as Mr. Sheridan confuses a parliamentary bench for Drury Lane, how can we we be expected to respect the difference? be expected to respect the difference?9 Anne Lefroy was to leave us on the morrow-but we had intended a meeting in Laura Place. The crush of bodies and the bewildering array of fancy dress had quite disguised her from my sight. I craned about in search of her glorious hair-when a m.u.f.fled e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n from the direction of the fire demanded my attention.

Two men-the White Harlequin and my unknown Knight-were arranged in an att.i.tude of belligerence, although the effect was rendered somewhat ridiculous by the incongruity of their costumes. The Knight had removed his helmet, revealing a fair head and a sharp-featured face that must must be vaguely familiar; and he now glared boldly at his masked opponent. be vaguely familiar; and he now glared boldly at his masked opponent.

"You are a blackguard, sir, and a liar!" he cried.

The Harlequin swayed as he stood, as though influenced by unconquerable pa.s.sion, or an excess of spirits. And at that moment, Lady Desdemona intervened.

"Kinny! You will apologise at once! Mr. Portal meant nothing by his words, I am certain of it. I will not have you come to blows!"

"I'd sooner fell upon my sword than beg pardon of such a rogue," my Knight exclaimed; and as if in answer, the Harlequin thrust Lady Desdemona roughly aside. She cried out; it was enough. The Knight rushed swiftly at his opponent.

A scuffle, an outburst of oaths-and the two were parted by the actor Hugh Conyngham and the stern-looking Moor.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" Mr. Conyngham exclaimed.

"You will look to your conduct, I beg! This is hardly what is due to the d.u.c.h.ess!"

My Knight, his countenance working, drew off a silver glove, and dashed it to the floor. The White Harlequin struggled in the Moor's arms, determined to pick it up.

But it was Hugh Conyngham who bent to retrieve the glove. He tucked it deftly into his Elizabethan doublet. "No challenge, my lord, 1beg," he muttered, with a look for Lady Desdemona.

Eliza craned on tiptoe for a clearer view of the scene.

"But how droll!" she whispered. "An affair of honour! And can the lady be the cause?"

Lord Harold's niece turned and quitted the supper-room in considerable haste, her eyes overflowing with tears. As if released at a command, the scandalised guests sent up a buzz of conversation; and the d.u.c.h.ess moved to follow her.

"Stay, Grandmere," called my Knight; "I shall go to Mona. Have Jenkins show this blackguard the door." And with a look of contempt for the White Harlequin, who sat slumped in a chair, he sped swiftly in Lady Desdemona's train.

My knight, the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess's grandson? Then was he, in fact, Lady Desdemona's brother, and the heir to the Wilborough dukedom? There was a something of Eugenie's sharpness in his features, and I could imagine him as almost his uncle's twin in another twenty years.

The d.u.c.h.ess halted in her path, leaning heavily upon her cane, and glanced around the supper-room. "Jenkins!" she called, her voice low and clear. "Send round the wine, if you please. I shall attend to Mr. Portal." And grasping her cane with one hand and the White Harlequin with the other, she led him unprotestingly away.

"I might almost think it a set-piece of the stage," said a wry voice at my back, "did not my familiarity with a lady's tears argue its sincerity. What think you, Jane? A lovers' quarrel? Or something deeper?"

"Madam Lefroy!" I turned in delight, and held out my hands. "Do my eyes misgive me? Or is the magnificent Elizabeth reborn in the form of Ashe?"

The masked figure of Queen Elizabeth, whom I had observed earlier in conversation with the Red Harlequin, seized my fingers and laughed.

"As you find me, my dear Miss Austen!-My dear Mrs. Henry! And how do you like the d.u.c.h.ess's party?"

"I may forgive her the disadvantage of a large acquaintance, however much it ensures I shall be crushed, now that there is a touch of scandal to the evening," Eliza declared mischievously. "Of what else might I speak in the Pump Room tomorrow?"10 "Eugenie should never forgo a chance to set the town to talking-but I wonder if the Lady Desdemona is quite of her way of thinking? She seemed much distressed."

All discussion of the interesting episode was forestalled, however, by my brother's return. Henry carried a chair with effort in one hand, and a gla.s.s of punch in the other; and the result of his exertions, in having raised a fine dew along his forehead, did little for his Richard.

"My poor Henry," I exclaimed. "Your benevolence for naught. I have secured my dear Madam Lefroy, as you see, and will leave you to your lovely Antoinette, and the comforts of iced custard."

1 In Austen's day, it was the custom to travel about the streets of Bath and other major cities in hired sedan chairs carried by a man fore and aft.- In Austen's day, it was the custom to travel about the streets of Bath and other major cities in hired sedan chairs carried by a man fore and aft.-Editor's note.2 Eliza de Feuillide was both Jane Austen's cousin and the wife of her brother, Henry, but Jane usually refers to Eliza simply as her Eliza de Feuillide was both Jane Austen's cousin and the wife of her brother, Henry, but Jane usually refers to Eliza simply as her sister. sister. It was a convention of the time to address relatives acquired through marriage in the same manner as blood relations. It was a convention of the time to address relatives acquired through marriage in the same manner as blood relations. -Editor's note. -Editor's note.3 Sarah Siddons (1755-1831) was the foremost tragic actress of Austen's day. With her brother, John Philip Kemble, Siddons dominated the London stage at this time, where it is probable Jane had seen her perform.- Sarah Siddons (1755-1831) was the foremost tragic actress of Austen's day. With her brother, John Philip Kemble, Siddons dominated the London stage at this time, where it is probable Jane had seen her perform.-Editor's note.4 Robert Adam's renovation of Old Drury Lane Theatre in 1775 featured pale green and pink paint with bronze detailing-which the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess apparently emulated. Old Drury was pulled down and replaced by a newer building in 1794. This building burned to the ground in 1809.- Robert Adam's renovation of Old Drury Lane Theatre in 1775 featured pale green and pink paint with bronze detailing-which the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess apparently emulated. Old Drury was pulled down and replaced by a newer building in 1794. This building burned to the ground in 1809.-Editor's note.5 This was the original Bath theater on Orchard Street, where Jane was a frequent patron. Its company divided performances between Bath and Bristol, playing houses in each city on alternate nights- Tuesday, Thursday, and Sat.u.r.day in Bath; Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in Bristol.- This was the original Bath theater on Orchard Street, where Jane was a frequent patron. Its company divided performances between Bath and Bristol, playing houses in each city on alternate nights- Tuesday, Thursday, and Sat.u.r.day in Bath; Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in Bristol.-Edilm's note.6 Elizabeth Farren was a member of the Drury Lane company during the 1780s and the recognized mistress of the Earl of Derby, who made her his second countess at his first wife's death in 1797.- Elizabeth Farren was a member of the Drury Lane company during the 1780s and the recognized mistress of the Earl of Derby, who made her his second countess at his first wife's death in 1797.-Editor" note.7 James Gtllray (1757-1815) was the foremost caricaturist in aquatint engravings, which began to make their appearance in the London newspapers in the 1780s. The engravings generally made sport of fas.h.i.+onable scandals or political missteps, much as do present-day political cartoons. Lord Moira and Charles James Fox were noted Whig politicians; Countess Frances Jersey, although a grandmother in her fifties, was a scheming and unscrupulous woman who had served briefly as the Prince of Walcs's mistress in the 1790s. She had displaced the Catholic and twice-widowed Maria Fitzherbert, whom the Prince secredy and illegally married in 1786, but by 1804, Mrs. Fitzherbert was once more the Prince's companion of choice.- James Gtllray (1757-1815) was the foremost caricaturist in aquatint engravings, which began to make their appearance in the London newspapers in the 1780s. The engravings generally made sport of fas.h.i.+onable scandals or political missteps, much as do present-day political cartoons. Lord Moira and Charles James Fox were noted Whig politicians; Countess Frances Jersey, although a grandmother in her fifties, was a scheming and unscrupulous woman who had served briefly as the Prince of Walcs's mistress in the 1790s. She had displaced the Catholic and twice-widowed Maria Fitzherbert, whom the Prince secredy and illegally married in 1786, but by 1804, Mrs. Fitzherbert was once more the Prince's companion of choice.-Editor's note.8 These were the government's public funds, one of the few reliable investments in Austen's day, which generally yielded annuities of four percent per annum.- These were the government's public funds, one of the few reliable investments in Austen's day, which generally yielded annuities of four percent per annum.-hAitor's mite.9 Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the noted Georgian playwright of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the noted Georgian playwright of The School for Scandal The School for Scandal and owner of the Drury Lane Theatre, was also a member of Parliament. Sheridan first came to Jane's notice in 1787, when he made a four-day speech against her family's friend Warren Hastings, the former Governor-General of Bengal, during Has-tings's seven-year parliamentary trial for impeachment.- and owner of the Drury Lane Theatre, was also a member of Parliament. Sheridan first came to Jane's notice in 1787, when he made a four-day speech against her family's friend Warren Hastings, the former Governor-General of Bengal, during Has-tings's seven-year parliamentary trial for impeachment.-Editor's note.10 The Pump Room was one of the social centers of Bath. It adjoined the King's Baths, near the Abbey and Colonnade in the heart of the city, and was frequented by the fas.h.i.+onable every afternoon. There they would congregate to drink a gla.s.s of medicinal spring water presented by liveried pump attendants; to promenade among their acquaintance; and to peruse the calf-bound volume in which recent arrivals to the city inscribed their names and local addresses. Austen describes the Pump Room to perfection in The Pump Room was one of the social centers of Bath. It adjoined the King's Baths, near the Abbey and Colonnade in the heart of the city, and was frequented by the fas.h.i.+onable every afternoon. There they would congregate to drink a gla.s.s of medicinal spring water presented by liveried pump attendants; to promenade among their acquaintance; and to peruse the calf-bound volume in which recent arrivals to the city inscribed their names and local addresses. Austen describes the Pump Room to perfection in Northanger Abbey, Northanger Abbey, in which Catherine Morland and Isabella Thorpe make the place their second home.- in which Catherine Morland and Isabella Thorpe make the place their second home.-Editor's note.

NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN OMITTED.

JANE AND THE MAN OF THE CLOTH.

A Bantam Book All rights reserved.

Copyright 1997 by Stephanie Barron.