by Ngaio Marsh
Eleanor Prentice thought, “If I take care and manage this well it will look as if it’s Idris who is making all the trouble and he will think her uncharitable. Six parts and seven people. Idris is determined to stop that Ross woman at all costs. I can see one of Idris’s tantrums coming. That’s all to the good. I shall be forty-nine next month. Idris is more than forty-nine. Dinah should work in the parish. I wonder what goes on among actors and actresses. Dressing and undressing behind the scenes and travelling about together. If I could find out that Dinah had — If I married, Jocelyn would make me an allowance. To see that woman look at Templett like that and he at her! Dinah and Henry! I can’t bear it. I can’t endure it. Never show you’re hurt. I want to look at him, but I mustn’t. Henry might be watching. Henry knows. A parish priest should be married. His head is like an angel’s head. No. Not an angel’s. A Greek god. Prostrate before Thy throne to lie and gaze and gaze on Thee. Oh, God, let him love me!”
Henry thought, “To-morrow morning if it’s fine I shall meet Dinah above Cloudyfold and tell her that I love her. Why shouldn’t Templett have his Selia Ross in the play? Six parts and seven people to the devil! Let’s find a new play. I’m in love for the first time. I’ve crossed the border into a strange country and never again will there be a moment quite like this. To-morrow morning, if it’s fine, Dinah and I will meet up on Cloudyfold.”
Dinah thought, ‘To-morrow morning, if it’s fine, Henry will be waiting for me above Cloudyfold and I think he will tell me he loves me. There will be nobody in the whole wide world but Henry and me.”
Templett thought, “I’ll have to be careful. I suppose I was a fool to suggest her coming, but after she said she was so keen on acting it seemed the only thing to do. If those two starved spinsters get their teeth into us it’ll be all up with the practice. I wish to God I was made differently. I wish to God my wife wasn’t what she is. Perhaps it’d be all the same if she wasn’t. Selia’s got me. It’s like an infection. I’m eaten up with it.”
Selia Ross thought, “So far so good. I’ve got here. I can manage the squire easily enough, but he’s got his eye on me already. The boy’s in love with the girl, but he’s a man and I think he’ll be generous. He’s no fool, though, and I rather fancy he’s summed me up. Attractive, with those light grey eyes and black lashes. It might be amusing to take him from her. I doubt if I could. He’s past the age when they fall for women a good deal older than themselves. I feel equal to the whole lot of them. It was fun coming in with Billy and seeing those two frost-bitten old virgins with their eyes popping out of their heads. They know I’m too much for them with my good common streak of hard sense and determination. They’re both trying to see if Billy’s arm is touching my shoulders. The Campanula is staring quite openly and the Poor Relation’s looking out of the corner of her eyes. I’ll lean back a little. There! Now have a good look. It’s a bore about Billy’s professional reputation and having to be so careful. I want like hell to show them all he’s mine. I’ve never felt like this about any other man, never. It’s as if we’d engulfed each other. I suppose it’s love. I won’t have him in their bogus schoolroom play without me. He might have a love scene with the girl. I couldn’t stand that. Seven people and six parts. Now, then!”
And Idris Campanula thought, “If I could in decency lay my hands on that straw-coloured wanton I’d shake the very life out of her. The infamous brazen effrontery! To force her way into Pen Cuckoo, without an invitation, under the protection of that man! I always suspected Dr. Templett of that sort of thing. If Eleanor had the gumption of a rabbit she’d have forbidden them the house. Sitting on the arm of her chair! A fine excuse! He’s practically got his arm around her. I’ll look straight at them and let her see what I think of her. There! She’s smiling. She knows, and she doesn’t care. It amounts to living in open sin with him. The rector can’t let it pass. It’s an open insult to me, making me sit at the same table with them. Every hand against me. I’ve no friends. They only want my money. Eleanor’s as bad as the rest. She’s tried to poison the rector’s mind against me. She’s jealous of me. The play was my idea and now she’s talking as if it was hers. The rector must be warned. I’ll ask him to hear my confession on Friday. I’ll confess the unkind thoughts I’ve had of Eleanor Prentice and before he can stop me I’ll tell him what they were and then perhaps he’ll begin to see through Eleanor. Then I’ll say I’ve been uncharitable about Mrs. Ross and Dr. Templett. I’ll say I’m an outspoken woman and believe in looking facts in the face. He must prefer me to Eleanor. I ought to have married. With my ability and my money and my brains I’d make a success of it. I’d do the Rectory up and get rid of that impertinent old maid. Dinah could go back to the stage as soon as she liked, or if Eleanor’s gossip is true, she could marry Henry Jernigham. Eleanor wouldn’t care much for that. She’ll fight tooth and nail before she sees another chatelaine at Pen Cuckoo. I’ll back Eleanor up as far as Dr. Templett and his common little light-of-love are concerned, but if she tries to come between me and Walter Copeland she’ll regret it. Now then, I’ll speak.”
And bringing her large, ugly hand down sharply on the table she said:
“May I have a word?”
“Please do,” said Mr. Copeland nervously.
“As secretary,” began Miss Campanula loudly, “I have discussed this matter with the Y.P.F.C. members individually. They plan an entertainment of their own later on in the year and they are most anxious that this little affair should be arranged entirely by ourselves. Just five or six, they said, of the people who are really interested in the Circle. They mentioned you, of course, rector, and the squire, as patron, and you Eleanor, naturally, as president. They said they hoped Dinah would not feel that our humble efforts were beneath her dignity and that she would grace our little performance. And you, Henry, they particularly mentioned you.”
“Thank you,” said Henry solemnly. Miss Campanula darted a suspicious glance at him and went on:
“They seem to think they’d like to see me making an exhibition of myself with all the rest of you. Of course, I don’t pretend to histrionic talent — ”
“Of course you must have a part, Idris,” said Miss Prentice. “We depend upon you.”
“Thank you, Eleanor,” said Miss Campanula; and between the two ladies there flashed the signal of an alliance.
“That makes five, doesn’t it?” asked Miss Prentice sweetly.
“Five,” said Miss Campanula.
“Six, with Dr. Templett,” said Henry.
“We should be very glad to have Dr. Templett,” rejoined Miss Prentice, with so cunningly balanced an inflection that her rejection of Mrs. Ross was implicit in every syllable.
“Well, a G.P.’s an awkward sort of fellow when it comes to rehearsals,” said Dr. Templett. “Never know when an urgent case may not crop up. Still, if you don’t mind risking it I’d like to take a part.”
“We’ll certainly risk it,” said the rector. There was a murmur of assent followed by a deadly little silence. The rector drew in his breath, looked at his daughter who gave him a heartening nod, and said:
“Now, before we go any further with the number of performers, I think we should decide on the form of the entertainment. If it is going to be a play, so much will depend upon the piece chosen. Has anybody any suggestion?”
“I move,” said Miss Campanula, “that we do a play, and I suggest Simple Susan as a suitable piece.”
“I should like to second that,” said Miss Prentice.
“What sort of play is it?” asked Dr. Templett. “I haven’t heard of it. Is it new?”
“It’s a contemporary of East Lynne and The Silver King I should think,” said Dinah.
Henry and Dr. Templett laughed. Miss Campanula thrust out her bosom, turned scarlet in the face, and said:
“In my humble opinion, Dinah, it is none the worse for that.”
“It’s so amusing,” said Miss Prentice. “You remember it, Jocelyn, don’t you? There’s that little
bit where Lord Sylvester pretends to be his own tailor and proposes to Lady Maude, thinking she’s her own lady’s maid. Such an original notion and so ludicrous.”
“It has thrown generations of audiences into convulsions,” agreed Henry.
“Henry,” said the squire.
“Sorry, Father. But honestly, as a dramatic device — ”
“Simple Susan,” said Miss Campanula hotly, “may be old-fashioned in the sense that it contains no disgusting innuendoes. It does not depend on vulgarity for its fun, and that’s more than can be said for most of your modern comedies.”
“How far does Lord Sylvester go — ” began Dinah.
“Dinah!” said the rector quietly.
“All right, Daddy. Sorry. I only — ”
“How old is Lord Sylvester?” interrupted the squire suddenly.
“Oh, about forty-five or fifty,” murmured Miss Prentice.
“Why not do the Private Secretary?” inquired Henry.
“I never thought The Private Secretary a very nice play,” said Miss Prentice. “I expect I’m prejudiced.” And she gave the rector a reverent smile.
“I agree,” said Miss Campanula. “I always thought it in the worst of taste. I may be old-fashioned but I don’t like jokes about the cloth.”
“I don’t think The Private Secretary ever did us much harm,” said the rector mildly. “But aren’t we wandering from the point? Miss Campanula has moved that we do a play called Simple Susan. Miss Prentice has seconded her. Has anybody else a suggestion to make?”
“Yes,” said Selia Ross, “I have.”
CHAPTER THREE
They Choose a Play
i
If Mrs. Ross had taken a ticking bomb from her handbag and placed it on the table, the effect could have been scarcely more devastating. What she did produce was a small green book. Seven pairs of eyes followed the movements of her thin, scarlet-tipped hands. Seven pairs of eyes fastened, as if mesmerised, on the black letters of the book cover. Mrs. Ross folded her hands over the book and addressed the meeting.
“I do hope you’ll all forgive me for making my suggestion,” she said, “but it’s the result of a rather odd coincidence. I’d no idea of your meeting until Dr. Templett called in this afternoon, but I happened to be reading this play and when he appeared the first thing I said was, ‘Some time or other we simply must do this thing.’ Didn’t I, Billy? I mean, it’s absolutely marvellous. All the time I was reading it I kept thinking how perfect it would be for some of you to do it in aid of one of the local charities. There are two parts in it that would be simply ideal for Miss Prentice and Miss Campanula. The Duchess and her sister. The scene they have with General Talbot is one of the best in the play. It simply couldn’t be funnier and you’d be magnificent as the General, Mr. Jernigham.”
She paused composedly and looked sideways at the squire. Nobody spoke, though Miss Campanula wetted her lips. Selia Ross waited for a moment, smiling frankly, and then she said:
“Of course I didn’t realise you had already chosen a play. Naturally I wouldn’t have dreamt of coming if I had known. It’s all this man’s fault.” She gave Dr. Templett a sort of comradely jog with her elbow. “He bullied me into it. I ought to have apologised and crept away at once, but I just couldn’t resist telling you about my discovery.” She opened her eyes a little wider and turned them on the rector. “Perhaps if I left it with you, Mr. Copeland, the committee might just like to glance at it before they quite decide. Please don’t think I want a part in it or anything frightful like that. It’s just that it is so good, and I’d be delighted to lend it.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said the rector.
“It’s not a bit kind. I’m being thoroughly selfish. I just long to see you all doing it and I’m secretly hoping you won’t be able to resist it. It’s so difficult to find modern plays that aren’t offensive,” continued Mrs. Ross, with an air of great frankness, “but this really is charming.”
“But what is the play?” asked Henry, who had been craning his neck in a useless attempt to read the title.
“Shop Windows, by Jacob Hunt.”
“Good Lord!” ejaculated Dinah. “Of course! I never thought of it. It’s the very thing.”
“Have you read it?” asked Mrs. Ross, with a friendly glance at her.
“I saw the London production,” said Dinah. “You’re quite right, it would be grand. But what about the royalties? Hunt charges the earth for amateur rights, and anyway he’d probably refuse them to us.”
“I was coming to that,” said Mrs. Ross. “If you should decide to do it I’d like to stand the royalties if you’d let me.”
There was another silence, broken by the rector.
“Now, that’s very generous indeed,” he said.
“No, honestly it’s not. I’ve told you I’m longing to see it done.”
“How many characters are there?” asked the squire suddenly.
“Let me see, I think there are six.” She opened the play and counted prettily on her fingers.
“Five, six — no, there seem to be seven! Stupid of me.”
“Ha!” said Miss Campanula.
“But I’m sure you could find a seventh. What about the Moorton people?”
“What about you?” asked Dr. Templett.
“No, no!” said Mrs. Ross quickly. “I don’t come into the picture. Don’t be silly.”
“It’s a damn’ good play,” said Henry. “I saw the London show too, Dinah. D’you think we could do it?”
“I don’t see why not. The situations would carry it through. The three character parts are really the stars.”
“Which are they?” demanded the squire.
“The General and the Duchess and her sister,” said Mrs. Ross.
“They don’t come on till the second act,” continued Dinah, “but from then on they carry the show.”
“May I have a look at it?” asked the squire.
Mrs. Ross opened the book and passed it across to him.
“Do read the opening of the act,” she said, “and then go on to page forty-eight.”
“May I speak?” demanded Miss Campanula loudly.
“Please!” said the rector hurriedly. “Please do. Ah — order!”
ii
Miss Campanula gripped the edge of the table with her large hands and spoke at some length. She said that she didn’t know how everybody else was feeling but that she herself was somewhat bewildered. She was surprised to learn that such eminent authorities as Dinah and Henry and Mrs. Ross considered poor Pen Cuckoo capable of producing a modern play that met with their approval. She thought that perhaps this clever play might be a little too clever for poor Pen Cuckoo and the Young People’s Friendly Circle. She asked the meeting if it did not think it would make a great mistake if it was over-ambitious. “I must confess,” she said, with an angry laugh, “that I had a much simpler plan in mind. I did not propose to fly as high as West End successes and I don’t mind saying I think we would be in a fair way to making fools of ourselves. And that’s that.”
“But, Miss Campanula,” objected Dinah, “it’s such a mistake to think that because the cast is not very experienced it will be better in a bad play than in a good one.”
“I’m sorry you think Simple Susan a bad play, Dinah,” said Miss Prentice sweetly.
“Well, I think it’s very dated and I’m afraid I think it’s rather silly,” said Dinah doggedly.
Miss Prentice gave a silvery laugh in which Miss Campanula joined.
“I agree with Dinah,” said Henry quickly.
“Suppose we all read both plays,” suggested the rector.
“I have read Shop Windows,” said Dr. Templett. “I must say I don’t see how we could do better.”
“We seem to be at a disadvantage, Eleanor,” said Miss Campanula unpleasantly, and Miss Prentice laughed again. So, astonishingly, did the squire. He broke out in a loud choking snort. They all turned to look at him. Tears coursed each other do
wn his cheeks and he dabbed at them absent-mindedly with the back of his hand. His shoulders quivered, his brows were raised in an ecstasy of merriment, and his cheeks were purple. He was lost in the second act of Mrs. Ross’s play.
“Oh! Lord!” he said, “this is funny.”
“Jocelyn!” cried Miss Prentice.
“Eh?” said the squire, and he turned a page, read half-a-dozen lines, laid the book on the table and gave himself up to paroxysms of unbridled laughter.
“Jocelyn!” repeated Miss Prentice. “Really!”
“What?” gasped the squire. “Eh? All right, I’m quite willing. Damn’ good! When do we begin?”
“Hi!” said Henry. “Steady, Father! The meeting hasn’t decided on the play.”
“Well, we’d better decide on this,” said the squire, and he leant towards Selia Ross. “When he starts telling her he’s got the garter,” he said, “and she thinks he’s talking about the other affair! And then when she says she won’t take no for an answer. Oh, Lord!”
“It’s heavenly, isn’t it?” agreed Mrs. Ross, and she and Henry and Dinah suddenly burst out laughing at the recollection of this scene, and for a minute or two they all reminded each other of the exquisite facetiae in the second act of Shop Windows. The rector listened with a nervous smile; Miss Prentice and Miss Campanula with tightly-set lips. At last the squire looked round the table with brimming eyes and asked what they were all waiting for.