The Actress in High Life: An Episode in Winter QuartersBowen, Sue Petigru
General
The Actress in High Life: An Episode in Winter Quarters
Bowen, Sue Petigru
Fiction
Lord Strathern returned the next day to Elvas, and found his daughter
very desolate, and full of more than filial anxiety to see him. She
was alone, for the Commissary had, the day before, sent off his heavy
baggage toward Lisbon. Lady Mabel would, at any time, have grieved at
parting with a true-hearted friend like Mrs. Shortridge; but now other
troubles weighed heavy on her, and so aggravated her obvious grief,
while the chief cause was hidden, that her kind friend was deeply
moved and greatly flattered at perceiving it. Had she staid longer in
Elvas, Lady Mabel would have confided her troubles to her, knowing
that, though she might not think wisely, she could feel rightly, and
give both advice and sympathy. But after a struggle of hesitation, she
let Mrs. Shortridge depart in ignorance, receiving from her many kind
messages and adieus for L'Isle.
Perhaps it was best that it should be so; for, had the good lady
learned the usage her favorite had met with, she might, for once in
her life, have boiled over with indignation.
"Well, _Ma Belle_," said Lord Strathern, as soon as he was alone with
his daughter, "so that fellow, L'Isle, beat us, after all, at our own
game. I did expect that your woman's wit would have carried it through
successfully."
"Would to Heavens, papa, my woman's wit, as you call it, had been
sufficient to keep me out of it altogether. How could you think of
putting such a part upon me? I never would have dreamed of it, if you
had not urged--insisted on my detaining him here. What is Colonel
L'Isle to me, that I should manoeuvre to keep him in Elvas, when Sir
Rowland Hill expects him in Alcantara? And as for my resenting your
quarrels with him, there is an impropriety in it, and yet more in the
mode you made me adopt. I am ashamed of myself--I am ashamed of you,
papa, for conceiving it."
"And to fail, after all," said Lord Strathern. "And yet, by L'Isle's
own account, you played your part well."
"His account!" exclaimed Lady Mabel. "To whom?"
"To us all--Sir Rowland, Bradshawe, Conway, and myself. He was
disposed to be sulky and silent, at first; but, with Sir Rowland's
help, we drew it all out of him."
"Drew it all out of him!" said Lady Mabel, in a faltering tone. She
gasped for breath, and her cheek grew pale. But the next moment the
blood rushed into her face, and she exclaimed: "What! Did Colonel
L'Isle give you a full account of the party--of all that occurred that
evening?"
"Full and minute. He was very reluctant to tell, as we were all
laughing at him; but Sir Rowland is a good inquisitor, and made him
speak out, and at length. I did not know he had so good a memory, or
you so much wit."
"For Heaven's sake, papa, what did he tell you?" Lady Mabel sat
watching her father with eager eyes, her hands firmly clasped, and her
heel impatiently tapping the floor, while she strove to master her
almost uncontrollable confusion and anxiety.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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