“Psha! there is but one man in England who could play the part of Bellaire on Wednesday,” cried Lady Sarah. “Ay, sir, and he is the only one in England capable of playing it.”
“Then we shall have him on our stage if I should have to pay a thousand pounds for his services,” said Sir Francis. “But where is he to be found?”
“Cannot you guess, sir?” asked Lady Sarah, smiling.
Sir Francis looked puzzled, but Lady Sue started and caught her friend by the wrist.
“You do not mean——” she began.
“Lud! these girls! Here's a scheme if you will!” muttered Sir Francis.
“Ay, if you will, Sir Francis. You know that I mean Mr. O'Brien himself and none other,” cried Lady Sarah.
“Impossible!” cried Lady Susan. “My father would never consent to my acting in a play with a real actor—no, not even if he were Mr. Garrick himself. How could you suggest such a thing, Sarah?”
“What, do you mean to tell me that you would refuse to act with Mr. O'Brien?” asked Lady Sarah.
“Oh, hear the child!” cried Lady Susan. “She asks me a question to which she knows only one answer is possible, and looks all the time as though she expected just the opposite answer!”