Slammerkin - Emma Donoghue [176]
'They're charming people, though,' said Mrs Farren with a foolish smile. 'How they dress and deport themselves, and how they converse...'
'And how they drink and gluttonise, and gamble their fortunes away,' added Eliza, grinning despite herself. 'But seriously, I admit all the charms of the well-born. Isn't it odd, though, with what relish they take the lowest roles?'
'That's right,' said her mother. 'Who'd have thought that stiff Mrs Bruce could stoop to play a saucy maid like Muslin?'
'She adores it! Whereas I've always played higher than myself at Drury Lane and even now I dread making an uncouth gesture or a slip of the tongue. Do you remember that cruel critic who said my laugh still smacked of the barnyard ?'
'Oh, my sweet, that must be seven years back, now,' protested her mother.
'I remember, I practised in the parlour,' said Eliza, 'laughing as musically as I could.'
'Until I begged you to stop, in case the neighbours thought we had a madwoman locked up in the house!'
Eliza let out a small sigh. 'I don't dislike the Richmond House Players, but I'm not at ease among them. Being their manager is the hardest part I've ever taken on and I'm not getting a shilling for it.'
Ah, but it's sure to pay off in the long run,' said her mother with a wink that screwed up half her face.
Eliza wished she wouldn't do that; it was like something out of a burletta or pantomime. 'You mean that with these new connections I'm on the brink of entering the World?'
'I mean, my dear child, that you're on the brink of becoming the next Countess of Derby!'
'Mother,' said Eliza, 'you mean to annoy me.'
'I don't—'
'We've agreed, haven't we, that such speculations are both pointless and tasteless as long as the person in question has a wife still living?'
Mrs Farren's mouth was sulky. 'She's said to be in very poor health. I see a lot, during rehearsals, over my sewing; his Lordship's showing you off to his old friends and they couldn't be more enchanted.'
Eliza got to her feet.
'Oh, won't you take some more ragout? Or a custard? Some nuts, to finish? You'll need your strength tonight for your Ben. You never seem to keep any fat on,' fretted her mother.
'I'm perfectly well,' said Eliza, giving her an exasperated half-smile.
LADY MARY was all blithe humour and never meddled with the preparations for the theatricals at Richmond House, Eliza noticed, but she never let them put her out either. One night, when the dining room was full of props and scenery, she went down to the steward's room quietly and ate her supper there. Eliza was studying the Duchess's serene self-containment; there was a trick Lady Mary had, of smiling beatifically as she said something critical, which Eliza was memorising to use on stage.
Mrs Damer couldn't have been more different from her sister. Well, they had different fathers, after all; Anne Damer was said to take after hers, the veteran soldier and politician Field Marshal Conway. She could be tactful, but also startlingly frank. The sculptor struck Eliza as a natural for tragedy, with her tireless vitality, her bony hands and long diamond-cut face. Unfortunately, The Way to Keep Him was a comedy.
'Say the line for me, would you, Miss Farren?' asked Mrs Damer.
Eliza hadn't got enough sleep after her Ben and her head was aching. There were still all the comic servant scenes to run through; Sir Harry and Mrs Bruce hadn't spoken a line yet today. She sat down at Mrs Lovemore's imaginary tea table, in the corner of the pink saloon, and began with a careless shrug. 'This trash of tea! I don't know why I drink so much of it. Heigho!' Major Arabin clapped; Eliza ignored him.
'Oh, I see,' said Mrs Damer. 'I never knew quite how to do the Heigho.'
Behind them, Dick Edgcumbe failed to suppress a yawn; Mrs Hobart was lecturing Mrs Blouse on hairstyles in a whisper.
'Lighter, simpler, that's what you must remember,' said Eliza. 'From the top—'