“This is vastly fine, ladies,” he remarked. “You have got rid of your bête-noire, Lady Susan; that, I say, is vastly fine, but where are you to find a bête-blanche to take his place?”
“Surely we can find some gentleman willing to act the part of Bellaire?” said Lady Sarah.
“Oh, there is not like to be a lack of young gentlemen willing to take the part, but we want not merely willingness, but competence as well; and the piece must be played on Wednesday, even though the part of Bellaire be left out,” said Sir Francis.
Lady Susan looked blankly at the floor. She seemed ready to renew the tears which she had wept on the shoulder of her friend a short time before.
“Have I been too hasty?” she said. “Alas! I fear that I have been selfish. I thought only of the poor figure that I should cut with such a lover—and with all the world looking on, too! I should have given more thought to your distress, Sir Francis.”
“Say no more, I pray of you; better have no play at all than one that all our kind friends will damn with the utmost cordiality and good breeding,” said Sir Francis.
“True, sir, but think of the ladies' dresses!” said Lady Sarah. “What the ladies say is, 'Better produce a play that will be cordially damned rather than deprive us of our chance of displaying our new dresses.'”
“Heavens!” cried Sir Francis, “I had not thought of the new dresses. Lady Susan, you will e'en have to face the anger of your sisters—'tis not I that will tarry for such an event. I mean to fly to Bath or Brighthelmstone, or perchance to Timbuctoo, until the storm be overpast.”
“Nay, nay, 'tis not a time for jesting, sir; let us not look at the matter from the standpoint of men, who do not stand but run away, let us be women for once, and scheme,” said Lady Susan.
“That is woman's special province,” said Sir Francis. “Pray begin, my lady—'twill be strange if your ladyship and Lady Sarah do not succeed in——”