It was quite dark in the Room now, save for the flickering and ruddy firelight. So I went out and bade the Servant give me the candles. I came back with them myself and set them on the Desk. As I did so, I glanced at Mr. Betterton. He had once more taken up his listless Attitude; his Head was leaning against the back of his Chair, and I could not fail to note how pallid his Face looked and how drawn, and there was a frown between his Brows which denoted wearying and absorbing Thoughts. Wishing to distract him from his brooding Melancholy, I thought of reminding him of certain artistic and social Duties which were awaiting his Attention.
"Will you send an Answer, Sir," I asked him with well-assumed indifference, "to the Chancellor? It is on the Subject of the Benefit Performance in aid of the Indigent Poor of the City of Westminster. His Lordship again sent a messenger this afternoon."
"Yes!" Mr. Betterton replied readily enough, and sought amongst his Papers for a Letter which he had apparently written some time during the Day. "If His Lordship's Messenger calls again, let him have this Note. I must arrange for the Benefit Performance, of course. But I doubt if many members of the Company will care to give their Services."
"I think that Mr. Robert Noakes would be willing," I suggested. "Also Mr. Lilleston."
"Perhaps, perhaps!" he broke in listlessly. "But we must have Actresses too, and they——"
He shrugged his shoulders, and I rejoined with great alacrity:
"Oh! I feel sure that Mistress Saunderson would be ready to join in any benevolent Scheme for the betterment of the Poor."
"Ah! but she is an Angel!" Mr. Betterton exclaimed. And, believe me, dear Mistress, that those words came as if involuntarily to his Lips, out of the Fulness of his Heart. And even when he had spoken, a Look of infinite Sadness swept over his Face and he rested his Head against his Hand, shading his Eyes from the light of the Candles, lest I should read the Thoughts that were mirrored therein.
"There came a messenger, too, this afternoon," I reminded him, "from Paris, with an autograph Letter from His Majesty the King of France."
"Yes!" he replied, and nodded his Head, I thought, uncomprehendingly.