‘Then your face belies your words,’ was the cold reply. ‘Why did you not tell me yesterday that you were going to meet that woman at Drury Lane this morning?’
‘There were two of them,’ said William Henry eagerly, urged, as he felt, by some fortunate inspiration to tell the whole truth.
‘Oh, there were two, were there?’ Though she strove to keep her tone the same, there was a relaxation in her severity that did not escape him; the reflection that there was safety in numbers had no doubt occurred to her. ‘You omitted that circumstance, sir, in your previous narrative, with, no doubt, many others.’
‘Indeed, Margaret, I have told you all; that is, all that I thought could have any interest for you. I ought to have said, of course, that the invitation to the theatre came from both the ladies; they wanted to have some alteration made in the play for them (which of course was out of the question). Mrs. Powell was very angry about it; I should think that she had a temper of her own.’
‘I don’t want to hear about Mrs. Powell.’
There was once a young gentleman who was endeavouring to make himself agreeable as a raconteur in the presence of Royalty. When he had done his story the Royal lips let fall these terrible words: ‘We are not amused.’ Poor William Henry found himself in much the same position. His reminiscences of Mrs. Powell were, as it were, cut off at the main. Margaret’s instinct had eliminated that factor from the sum of the matter as insignificant; there was another person to talk about, it was true, but he was averse to enter upon that subject. Unhappily it was suggested to him as a topic.
‘Who, may I ask, is this Mrs. Jordan?’
‘Well, she was the other lady, of course, who called here,’ said William Henry (he felt that he was turning a lively red, and it was so important to him that he should keep his colour). ‘She is to perform Flavia in the play.’
‘The person in man’s clothes?’ observed Margaret icily.
‘Well, she plays the Page; you can hardly expect her to play him in petticoats. It was not a dress rehearsal,’ stammered the young man, ‘if you mean that. They simply asked me—both of them—to step round to the theatre this morning and render them some professional assistance, which, as it happened, I am unable to do. I cannot for the life of me see what harm there was in that.’