Lament for a lost lover

She parried that thrust with the utmost ease. “Oh, yes, what a time that was. I was with the de la Boudons when these strolling players came to them. They played for us and I told them about my being with the players and they let me take part. Apparently they were quite pleased with me, and as one of their leading players had deserted them, they asked me if I would help them.” She paused then went on: “I will be honest ...”

How can you, Harriet? I thought. She must have seen the shocked look in my eyes, for she smiled secretively. She was more lovely when she was involved in mischief, and I knew they must all be thinking how enchanting she was.

“The de la Boudons had been very kind to me ... but life hem was so dull. I asked if they would allow me to go with the players just for an adventure. They understood that he had brought back memories to me. They were most sympathetic They were sure that I was a great actress, and when they heard that the company were going to Paris, they were eager for me to join them. So I did, and by great good fortune we came to Congreve. There I hurt my ankle and was forced to stay behind when the players left. I realized, of course, that I was not meant to be a strolling player, and when Arabella and dear Lucas implored me to stay, I agreed.”

“We are all very glad that you did,” said Edwin. “Otherwise we should have missed the pleasure of knowing you.”

“We might well have met when we all return to England.”

“Then the pleasure would have been too long delayed.” Harriet became animated. “You remember our play, Arabella ... Lucas? How like the hall at Congreve this one is. It has the dais ... it makes a good platform. What fun we had. We must tell them.”

“The play we did,” said Lucas. “Wasn’t it wonderful.? It was all due to Harriet, of course. We all took part and the Lambards-the nearby farmers-and the servants were our audience.”

“You enjoyed it, did you not, Lucas?” said Harriet. “You were very good in your part.”

“I was sorry for Arabella,” said Lucas. “She had to die at the end.”

“The reward for my ill-spent life,” I said.

‘Really?” Edwin was smiling at me. “I can’t believe that you We spent in any ways but worthily.” in the part I was the murderess. I prepared the poison draught tor Harriet and took it myself.”

“It was a French melodrama,” Harriet explained. Lady Eversleigh had grown rather pink. “Wouldn’t it be fun if , COUW do a little play? We have several guests coming and re are people around we could invite to see it. Do you think you could play the same thing again?”

“Are they English, your visitors?” asked Harriet.

“Yes ... all of them ... all exiles like ourselves.”

“Our melodrama was decidedly French ... all about love and passion.”

“A most interesting subject,” said Edwin.”

“Very French,” insisted Harriet.

Charles said: “Are you suggesting that these are subjects which don’t interest the English?”

“No, indeed. Many are interested in them but in secret.”

“How amusing,” said Edwin.

“Come,” Harriet parried, “you know this to be a fact.”

“In Puritan England, I daresay?”

“What I am suggesting,” said Harriet, “is that we should do a play which is entirely English. Shakespeare, for instance.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather beyond us?” asked Charlotte.

“I know some abridged versions which make it quite easy to stage.”

Charlotte said: “You must have done it in French.”

“Er ... yes, but I could do the translation. What do you say that we form our band of players... All of us will have a part.”

“You must not count me in,” said Lady Eversleigh. “I have the guests’ comfort to think of. We haven’t the servants here we had at home.”

“Then the rest of us,” said Harriet. “That makes a company of six. We can manage.

We might get someone else to join us for a walk-on part.” There was no doubt that they were all excited. Conversation was all about the entertainment we should give.

We sat long over the table, and as we left it Lady Eversleigh whispered to me: “How glad I am that you brought your friend.”

I was silent when we were in our room that night and it was Harriet who opened the subject as we lay in our beds. “Stop being so smug and self-righteous,” she said. “I have said nothing,” I replied. “No, but you look like a holy martyr. Don’t be so silly.”

‘Listen, Harriet,” I said, “I brought you here. If I went to Lady sleigh and told her that you came to us with the strolling that you pretended to hurt your ankle so that you could P and be our governess, what do you think she would say? “

“What a deceitful creature that Arabella Tolworthy is. She has fisted this adventuress on our house and deceived us all.” I couldn’t help laughing. It was so like Harriet to turn the tables.

She looked relieved.

“What harm is done?” she asked. “We are going to have a successful house party because of our play. You know how people love that sort of thing. Do you remember the Lambards ... even the Lambard men? ... They had never had such an evening’s entertainment in their lives.”

“But they were simple country folk.”