Melbourne House

by Susan Warner

CHAPTER XXXIII.

SATIN AND FEATHERS.

She was a little afraid of questions at the dinner-table; but it happened that the older people were interested about some matter of their own and she was not noticed at all. Except in a quiet way by Mr. Randolph, who picked out nuts for her; and Daisy took them and thought joyfully of carrying a Testament to Molly's cottage and teaching her to read it. If she could do but that Daisy thought she would be happy.

The evening was spent by her and Preston over engravings again. Some new ones were added to the stock already chosen for tableaux; and Preston debated with her very eagerly the various questions of characters and dresses. Daisy did not care how he arranged them, provided she only was not called upon to be Priscilla to Alexander Fish, or Esther to Hamilton Rush. "I will not, Preston " she insisted quietly; and Preston was in difficulty; for as he truly said, it would not do to give himself all the best pieces.

The next day, after luncheon, a general conclave assembled, of all the young people, to determine the respective parts and hold a little rehearsal by way of beginning. Mrs. Sandford was there too, but no other grown person was admitted. Preston had certainly a troublesome and delicate office in his capacity of manager.

"What are you going to give me, Preston?" said Mrs.
Stanfield's lively daughter, Theresa.

"You must be Portia."

"Portia? let me see Oh, that's lovely! How will you dress me, Mrs. Sandford? I must be very splendid I have just been married, and I am worth any amount of splendour. Who's to be Bassanio? "

"George Linwood, I think. He must have dark hair, you know."

"What are wigs good for?" said Theresa. "But he has nothing to do but to hold the letter and throw himself backward he's surprised, you know, and people don't stand straight when they are surprised. Only that, and to look at Portia. I guess he can do it. Once fix him and he'll stay that's one thing. How will you dress Portia, Mrs. Sandford? Ah, let me dress her!"

"Not at all; you must be amenable to authority, Miss
Stanfield, like everybody else."

"But what will you put on her, Mrs. Sandford? The dress is
Portia."

"No, by no means; you must look with a very delicate expression, Miss Theresa. Your face will be the picture."

"My face will depend on my dress, I know. What will it be,
Mrs. Sandford?"

"I will give you a very heavy and rich purple brocade."

"Jewels?"

"Of course. Mrs. Randolph lets us have whatever we want."

"That will do!" said Theresa, clapping her hands softly. "I am made up. What are you going to do with Frederica?"

"She has a great part. She must be Marie Antoinette going from the revolutionary tribunal."

"De la Roche's picture!" said Theresa.

"She's not dressed at all," remarked Frederica, coldly looking at the engraving.

"Marie Antoinette needed no dress, you know," Theresa answered.

"But she isn't handsome there."

"You will be standing for her," said Mrs. Sandford. "The attitude is very striking, in its proud, indignant impassiveness. You will do that well. I must dress your hair carefully, but you have just the right hair and plenty of it."

"Don't she flatter her!" whispered Theresa to Preston; then aloud, "How will you make up the rest of the tableau, Preston?"

"I am going to be that old cross-eyed woman Alexander will be one of the guards George Linwood another, I think. Hamilton Rush must shake his fist at the queen over my head; and Theresa, you must be this nice little French girl, looking at her unfortunate sovereign with weeping eyes. Can you get a tear on your cheek?"

"Might take an uncommon strong spoonful of mustard " said Theresa "I suppose that would do it. But you are not going to let the spectators come so near as to see drops of tears, I hope?"

"No matter your eyes and whole expression would be affected by the mustard; it would tell, even at a distance."

When they got through laughing, some one asked, "What is Daisy to be?"

"Oh, she is to be Priscilla here I thought nobody but Daisy would care about being a Puritan; but it is her chosen character."

"It'll be a pretty tableau," said Theresa.

"And what am I to be, Preston?" said Nora.

"You are to be several things. You and Ella must be the two young princes in the tower."

"What tower ?" said Nora.

There was another general laugh, and then Daisy, who was well at home in English history, pulled her little friend aside to whisper to her the story and show her the picture.

"What are those men going to do?" said Nora.

"They are going to kill the little princes. They have got a feather-bed or something there, and they are going to smother them while they are asleep."

"But I don't want the feather-bed on top of me!" said Nora.

"No, no, it is not to come down on you; but that is the picture; they will hold it just so; it will not come down."

"But suppose they should let it fall?"

"They will not let it fall. The picture is to have it held just so, as if they were going to smother the poor little princes the next minute."

"I think it is a horrid picture!" said Nora.

"But it will only last a little while. All you will have to do will be to make believe you are asleep."

"I don't want to make believe I am asleep. I would rather have my eyes open. What else am I going to be, Daisy?"

"Preston will tell. I believe you are to be one of Queen
Esther's women, to hold her up when she fainted, you know."

"Let me see. Where is it?"

Daisy obtained the picture. Nora examined it critically.

"I would like to be the king, he is so handsome. Who will be the queen?"

"I don't know yet," said Daisy.

"Are you going to have any part where you will be dressed up?"

"We shall have to be dressed for them all. We cannot wear our own dresses, you know; it would not be a picture."

"But, I mean, are you going to be dressed up with nice things? not like this."

"This will be dressed up," said Daisy; "she will be very nicely dressed to be one of the queen's ladies, you know."

"Daisy! Daisy! " was now called from the larger group of counsel-takers, Daisy and Nora having separated themselves for their private discourse. "Daisy! look here come here! see what you are to be. You are to be an angel."

"You are to be an angel, Daisy," Theresa repeated, "with wonderful wings made of gauze on a light frame of whalebone."

Daisy came near, looking very attentive; if she felt any more she did not show it in her face.

"Daisy, you will do it delightfully," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Come and look. It is this beautiful picture of the Game of
Life."

"What is it, ma'am?" said Daisy.

"These two figures, you see, are playing a game of chess. The stake they are playing for, is this young man's soul; he is one of the players, and this other player is the evil one. The arch-fiend thinks he has got a good move; the young man is very serious but perplexed; and there stands his guardian angel watching how the game will go."

Daisy looked at the picture in silence of astonishment. It seemed to her impossible that anybody could play at such a subject as that.

"Whom will you have for the fiend, Preston?" the lady went on.

"I will do it myself, ma'am, I think."

Daisy's "Oh, no, Preston!" brought down such a shower of laughter on all sides, that she retreated into herself a little further than ever. They pursued the subject for a while, discussing the parts and the making of the angels wings; deciding that Daisy would do excellently well for the angel and would look the part remarkably.

"She has a good deal that sort of expression in ordinary times," said Mrs. Sandford "without the sadness; and that she can assume, I day say."

"I would rather not do it " Daisy was heard to say, very gently but very soberly. There was another laugh.

"Do what, Daisy? assume a look of sadness?" said Preston.

"I would rather not be the angel."

"Nobody else could do it so well," said Mrs. Sandford. "You are the very one to do it. It will he admirable."

"I should like to be the angel " murmured Nora, low enough to have no one's attention but Daisy's. The rest were agreeing that the picture would be excellent and had just the right performers assigned to it. Daisy was puzzled. It seemed to her that Nora had a general desire for everything.

"Ella will be one of the princes in the tower," Preston went on. "Nora will be Red Riding-Hood."

"I won't be Red Riding-Hood " said Nora.

"Why not? Hoity, toity!"

"It isn't pretty. And it has no pretty dress."

"Why, it is beautiful," said Mrs. Sandford; "and the dress is to be made with an exquisite red cashmere cardinal of Mrs. Randolph's. You will make the best Red Riding-Hood here. Though Daisy would be more like the lamb the wolf was after," continued the lady, appealing to the manager; "and you might change. Who is to be queen Esther? Nora would do that well with her black eyes and hair she is more of a Jewess than any other of them."

"Esther is fainting," said Preston. "Daisy's paleness will suit that best. Nora could not look faint."

"Yes, I could," said that damsel, promptly.

"You shall blow the cakes that Alfred has let burn," said Preston. "Capital! Look here, Nora. You shall be that girl taking up the burnt cakes and blowing to cool them; and you may look as fierce as you like. You will get great applause if you do that part well. Eloise is going to be the scolding old woman. She and I divide the old women between us."

"Too bad, Preston!" said Mrs. Sandford, laughing. "What else are you going to be?"

"I am going to be one of those fellows coming to murder the little princes."

"Who is Bassanio?"

"Hamilton says he will undertake that. George declines."

"Suppose we do some work, instead of so much talking," said the former person; who had hitherto been a very quiet spectator and listener. "Let us have a little practice. We shall want a good deal before we get through."

All agreed; agreed also that something in the shape of artistic draperies was needed for the practice. "It helps," as Hamilton Rush remarked. So Daisy went to desire the attendance of June with all the scarfs, mantles and shawls which could be gathered together. As Daisy went, she thought that she did not wish Nora to be queen Esther; she was glad Preston was firm about that.

The practising of Bassanio and Portia was so very amusing that she fairly forgot herself in laughter. So did everybody else; except Mrs. Sandford, who was intent upon draperies, and Preston whose hands held a burden of responsibility. Hamilton was a quiet fellow enough in ordinary; but now nobody was more ready for all the life of the play. He threw himself back into an attitude of irresolution and perplexity, with the letter in his hand which had brought the fatal news; that is, it was the make-believe letter, though it was in reality only the New York Evening Post. And Daisy thought his attitude was very absurd; but they all declared it was admirable and exactly copied from the engraving. He threw himself into all this in a moment, and was Bassanio at once; but Theresa was much too well disposed to laugh to imitate his example. And then they all laughed at Theresa, who instead of looking grave and inquiring, as Portia should, at her lord's unusual action and appearance, flung herself into position and out of position with a mirthfulness of behaviour wholly inconsistent with the character she was to personify. How they all laughed!

"What is it, Daisy?" whispered Nora.

"Why, he has got a letter," said Daisy.

"Is that newspaper the letter?"

"Make believe it is," said Daisy.

"But what are they doing?"

"Why, this man, Bassanio, has just got a letter that says his dearest friend is going to be killed, because he owes money that he cannot pay; and as the money was borrowed for his own sake, of course he feels very badly about it."

"But people are not killed because they cannot pay money," said Nora. "I have seen people come to papa for money, and they didn't do anything to him because he hadn't it."

"No, but those were different times," said Daisy, "and Bassanio lived in a different country. His friend owed money to a dreadful man, who was going to cut out two pounds of his flesh to pay for it. So of course that would kill him."

"Oh, look at Theresa now!" said Nora.

The young lady had brought her muscles into order; and being clever enough in her merry way, she had taken the look of the character and was giving it admirably. It was hardly Theresa; her moveable face was composed to such an expression of simple inquiry and interest and affectionate concern. The spectators applauded eagerly; but Nora whispered, "What does she look like that, for?"

"Why, it's the picture," said Daisy.

"But what does she look so for?"

"She is Bassanio's wife they have just got married; and she looks so because he looks so, I suppose. She does not know what is in the letter."

"Is he going to tell her?"

"Not in the picture " said Daisy, feeling a little amused at
Nora's simplicity. "He did tell her in the story."

"But why don't we have all the story?" insisted Nora.

"Oh, these are only pictures, you know; that is all; people dressed up to look like pictures."

"They don't look like pictures a bit, I think," said Nora; "they look just like people."

Daisy thought so too, but had some faith in Preston's and Mrs. Sandford's powers of transforming and mystifying the present very natural appearance of the performers. ]However, she was beginning to be of the opinion that it was good fun even now.

"Now, Daisy, come, we must practise putting you in position," said Mrs. Sandford. "We will take something easy first what shall it be? Come! we will try Priscilla's courtship. Where is your John Alden, Preston?"

Preston quietly moved forward Alexander Fish and seated him.
Daisy began to grow warm with trepidation.

"You must let your hair grow, Sandie and comb out your long curls into your neck; so, do you see? And you will have to have a dress as much as Priscilla. This tableau will be all in the dress, Mrs. Sandford."

"We will have it. That is easy."

"Now, Alexander, look here, at the picture. Take that attitude as nearly as you can, and I will stroke you into order. That is pretty well, lean over a little more with that elbow on your knee, you must be very much in earnest."

"What am I doing?" said Alexander, breaking from his prescribed attitude to turn round and face the company.

"You are making love to Priscilla; but the joke is, you have been persuaded to do it for somebody else, when all the time you would like to do it for yourself."

"I wouldn't be such a gumph as that!" muttered Alexander, as he fell back into position. "Who am I, to begin with?"

"A highly respectable old Puritan. The lady was surprised at him and he came to his senses, but that is not in the picture. Now Daisy take that chair a little nearer you are to have your hand on your spinning wheel, you know; I have got a dear little old spinning wheel at home for you, that was used by my grandmother. You must look at Alexander a little severely, for he is doing what you did not expect of him, and you think he ought to know better. That attitude is very good. But you must look at him, Daisy! Don't let your eyes go down."

There was a decided disposition to laugh among the company looking on, which might have been fatal to the Puritan picture had not Preston and Mrs. Sandford energetically crushed it. Happily Daisy was too much occupied with the difficulty of her own immediate situation to discover how the bystanders were affected; she did not know what was the effect of her pink little cheeks and very demure downcast eyes. In fact Daisy had gone to take her place in the picture with something scarcely less than horror; only induced to do it, by her greater horror of making a fuss and so showing the feeling which she knew would be laughed at if shown. She showed it now, poor child; how could she help it? she showed it by her unusually tinged cheeks and by her persistent down-looking eyes. It was very difficult indeed to help it; for if she ventured to look at Alexander she caught impertinent little winks, most unlike John Alden or any Puritan, which he could execute with impunity because his face was mostly turned from the audience; but which Daisy took in full.

"Lift your eyes, Daisy! your eyes! Priscilla was too much astonished not to look at her lover. You may be even a little indignant, if you choose. I am certain she was."

Poor Daisy it was a piece of the fortitude that belonged to her thus urged, did raise her eyes and bent upon her winking coadjutor a look so severe in its childish distaste and disapproval that there was a unanimous shout of applause. "Capital, Daisy! capital!" cried Preston. "If you only look it like that, we shall do admirably. It will be a tableau indeed. There, get up you shall not practise any more just now."

"It will be very fine," said Mrs. Sandford.

"Daisy, I did not think you were such an actress," said Theresa. "It would have overset me, if I had been John Alden " remarked Hamilton Rush.

Daisy withdrew into the background as fast as possible, and as far as possible from Alexander.

"Do you like to do it, Daisy?" whispered Nora.

"No."

"Are you going to have a handsome dress for that?"

"No."

"What sort, then?"

"Like the picture."

"Well what is that?"

"Brown, with a white vandyke."

"Vandyke? what is a vandyke?"

"Hush," said Daisy; "let us look."

Frederica Fish was to personify Lady Jane Grey, at the moment when the nobles of her family and party knelt before her to offer her the crown. As Frederica was a, fair, handsome girl, without much animation, this part suited her; she had only to be dressed and sit still. Mrs. Sandford threw some rich draperies round her figure, and twisted a silk scarf about the back of her head; and the children exclaimed at the effect produced. That was to be a rich picture, for of course the kneeling nobles were to be in costly and picturesque attire; and a crown was to be borne on a cushion before them. A book did duty for it just now, on a couch pillow.

"That is what I should like " said Nora. "I want to be dressed and look so."

"You will be dressed to be one of the queen's women in Esther and Ahasuerus, you know."

"But the queen will be dressed more won't she?"

"Yes, I suppose she will."

"I should like to be the queen; that is what I should like to be."

Daisy made no answer. She thought she would rather Nora should not be the queen.

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" Nora went on, referring again to
Frederica.

Which Frederica did. The tableau was quite pretty, even partially dressed and in this off-hand way as it was.

Next Mrs. Sandford insisted on dressing Daisy as Fortitude. She had seen, perhaps, a little of the child's discomposure, and wished to make her forget it. In this tableau Daisy would be quite alone; so she was not displeased to let the lady do what she chose with her. She stood patiently, while Mrs. Sandford wound a long shawl skilfully around her, bringing it into beautiful folds like those in Sir Joshua Reynolds' painting; then she put a boy's cap, turned the wrong way, on her head, to do duty for a helmet, and fixed a nodding plume of feathers in it. Daisy then was placed in the attitude of the picture, and the whole little assembly shouted with delight.

"It will do, Mrs. Sandford," said Preston.

"Isn't it pretty?" said the lady.

"And Daisy does it admirably," said Theresa. "You are a fairy at dressing, Mrs. Sandford; your fingers are better than a fairy's wand. I wish you were my godmother; I shouldn't despair to ride yet in a coach and six. There are plenty of pumpkins in a field near our house, and plenty of rats in the house itself. Oh, Mrs. Sandford! let us have Cinderella!"

"What, for a tableau?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You must ask the manager. I do not know anything about that."

Preston and Theresa and Hamilton and Alexander now went into an eager discussion of this question, and before it was settled the party discovered that it was time to break up.