“‘My dear Hallam, it was some good fairy sent you in my way assuredly this morning!’ I cried, grasping his arm in delight.
“I was highly elated, and took to the scheme with enthusiasm. We spent the afternoon discussing it. It was settled that the play should be The Taming of the Shrew; the part of Benedict would suit me to perfection, Hallam declared, and I was so subdued by the amount of worldly wisdom and general knowledge of life which he had displayed in his arguments about my change of profession that I yielded without difficulty, and consented to forego tragedy for the present.
“For the next week I was in a whirl of excitement. He took me to the Army and Navy Club, and introduced me to a number of swells, all military men, who were very agreeable and treated me with a soldier-like cordiality that charmed me. I fancied life must be a delightful thing in such pleasant, good-natured, well-bred company; that I was now in my proper sphere; and that I had been hitherto out of place amidst rusty lawyers and hard-working clerks, etc. In fact, I was a fool, and my head got turned. I spent all my time in the day lounging about with Hallam and his aristocratic captains and colonels, and the evenings I devoted to the business of rehearsal, which was carried on at Lady Arabella Daucer’s, the married daughter of the duchess at whose house the theatricals were to be performed. I had been very graciously received by her grace, and consequently all the lords and ladies who composed her court followed suit. I was made as much of as if I had been ‘one of them,’ and my acting soon established me as the leading star of the select company. I suppose Hallam was right in saying that more mature reading and so on had improved my dramatic talent; for certainly it came out with a brilliancy that surprised myself. The artistic, high-bred atmosphere that surrounded me seemed to infuse fresh vigor into me. I borrowed or revealed a power that even my vanity had never suspected. Hallam was enchanted, and as proud of my success as if it had been his own.
“‘I can fancy how your mother will enjoy this!’ he exclaimed one evening, as I walked home with him to his chambers in Piccadilly. ‘She will be beside herself with pride in you, old fellow. Fancy what it will be the night of your first public representation! I expect a seat in her box, mind!’
“It was just two days before the grand night, and we were having our last rehearsal—the final one—in the theatre at B—— House, which was lighted up and filled with a select few, in order to judge of the general effect for the following night. I was in great spirits, and acted better than I had done yet. The audience applauded warmly, the ladies clapping their white-kid hands and shaking their handkerchiefs, that filled the air with the perfumes of Arabia, while the gentlemen, more audible in their demonstrations, cheered loudly.
“When it was over, we sat down to supper, about a hundred, of us. I sat next the duchess, and my beautiful Katharina on the other side of me. She was a lovely girl of twenty, a cousin of the duchess. I had been struck by her beauty at the first, but the more I saw of her the less she pleased me; she was a vain, coquettish young lady, and only tolerated me because I was useful as a good set-off to her acting, which, to be just, was excellent. I never saw anything so good off the stage, and very seldom saw it equalled even there. Flushed with her recent triumph, which had borrowed additional lustre from mine she was more gracious and conversational than I had yet known her. I was flattered, though I knew perfectly how much the caprice was worth, and I exerted myself to the utmost to be agreeable. We were altogether a very merry party; the champagne flowed freely, and with it the spirits of the guests rose to sparkling point. As we rose from the table, some one called out for a dance before we broke up. The musicians had gone to have refreshments after the rehearsal, but they were still in the house. The duchess, a good-natured, easy-going person, who always agreed with everybody all round, at once ordered them in; people began to engage partners, and all was laughing confusion round the supper-table. I turned to my pretty neighbor, and asked if she was engaged; she replied, laughing, that being neither a sibyl nor a clairvoyant, she could not have known beforehand that there was to be dancing. ‘Then may I have the honor of claiming you for the first dance, whatever it may be?’ I said; and she replied that I might. I offered her my arm, and we took our way back into the theatre, which was still brilliantly illuminated. We were to dance on the stage. As we were pushing on with the crowd, I felt a strong hand laid on my arm, and, before I had time to prevent it, Lady Caroline’s hand was withdrawn, and the intruder stood between us. He was a square-built, distinguished-looking man, not very young, but handsome and with the beau stamped all over him.
“‘Excuse my want of ceremony,’ he said in an easy, supercilious tone to me. ‘I claim the first dance with Lady Caroline.’
“‘On what grounds?’ I demanded stiffly. We were still moving on, carried with the crowd, so it was impossible to make him stand aside or to regain my post next Lady Caroline.
“‘On the grounds of her promise,’ he replied haughtily.
“Lady Caroline uttered a laughing ‘O Lord George!’ but did not draw away the hand which he had so unceremoniously transferred from my arm to his.