BETWEEN THE SCENES.
CHRONICLE OF EVENTS: PRESERVED IN CAPTAIN WRAGGE'S DISPATCH-BOX.
I.
_Chronicle for October, 1846._
I HAVE retired into the bosom of my family. We are residing in the
secluded village of Ruswarp, on the banks of the Esk, about two miles
inland from Whitby. Our lodgings are comfortable, and we possess the
additional blessing of a tidy landlady. Mrs. Wragge and Miss Vanstone
preceded me here, in accordance with the plan I laid down for effecting
our retreat from York. On the next day I followed them alone, with the
luggage. On leaving the terminus, I had the satisfaction of seeing the
lawyer's clerk in close confabulation with the detective officer whose
advent I had prophesied. I left him in peaceable possession of the city
of York, and the whole surrounding neighborhood. He has returned the
compliment, and has left us in peaceable possession of the valley of the
Esk, thirty miles away from him.
Remarkable results have followed my first efforts at the cultivation of
Miss Vanstone's dramatic abilities.
I have discovered that she possesses extraordinary talent as a mimic.
She has the flexible face, the manageable voice, and the dramatic knack
which fit a woman for character-parts and disguises on the stage. All
she now wants is teaching and practice, to make her sure of her own
resources. The experience of her, thus gained, has revived an idea in
my mind which originally occurred to me at one of the "At Homes" of the
late inimitable Charles Mathews, comedian. I was in the Wine Trade at
the time, I remember. We imitated the Vintage-processes of Nature in
a back-kitchen at Brompton, and produced a dinner-sherry, pale and
curious, tonic in character, round in the mouth, a favorite with
the Court of Spain, at nineteen-and-sixpence a dozen, bottles
included--_Vide_ Prospectus of the period. The profits of myself and
partners were small; we were in advance of the tastes of the age, and
in debt to the bottle merchant. Being at my wits' end for want of money,
and seeing what audiences Mathews drew, the idea occurred to me of
starting an imitation of the great Imitator himself, in the shape of an
"At Home," given by a woman. The one trifling obstacle in the way was
the difficulty of finding the woman. From that time to this, I have
hitherto failed to overcome it. I have conquered it at last; I have
found the woman now. Miss Vanstone possesses youth and beauty as well
as talent. Train her in the art of dramatic disguise; provide her
with appropriate dresses for different characters; develop her
accomplishments in singing and playing; give her plenty of smart talk
addressed to the audience; advertise her as a Young Lady at Home;
astonish the public by a dramatic entertainment which depends from
first to last on that young lady's own sole exertions; commit the entire
management of the t hing to my care--and what follows as a necessary
con sequence? Fame for my fair relative, and a fortune for myself.
I put these considerations, as frankly as usual, to Miss Vanstone;
offering to write the Entertainment, to manage all the business, and to
share the profits. I did not forget to strengthen my case by informing
her of the jealousies she would encounter, and the obstacles she would
meet, if she went on the stage. And I wound up by a neat reference to
the private inquiries which she is interested in making, and to the
personal independence which she is desirous of securing before she acts
on her information. "If you go on the stage," I said, "your services
will be bought by a manager, and he may insist on his claims just at the
time when you want to get free from him. If, on the contrary, you adopt
my views, you will be your own mistress and your own manager, and
you can settle your course just as you like." This last consideration
appeared to strike her. She took a day to consider it; and, when the day
was over, gave her consent.
I had the whole transaction down in black and white immediately. Our
arrangement is eminently satisfactory, except in one particular.
She shows a morbid distrust of writing her name at the bottom of any
document which I present to her, and roundly declares she will sign
nothing. As long as it is her interest to provide herself with pecuniary
resources for the future, she verbally engages to go on. When it ceases
to be her interest, she plainly threatens to leave off at a week's
notice. A difficult girl to deal with; she has found out her own value
to me already. One comfort is, I have the cooking of the accounts; and
my fair relative shall not fill her pockets too suddenly if I can help
it.
My exertions in training Miss Vanstone for the coming experiment have
been varied by the writing of two anonymous letters in that young lady's
interests. Finding her too fidgety about arranging matters with her
friends to pay proper attention to my instructions, I wrote anonymously
to the lawyer who is conducting the inquiry after her, recommending him,
in a friendly way, to give it up. The letter was inclosed to a friend
of mine in London, with instructions to post it at Charing Cross. A week
later I sent a second letter, through the same channel, requesting the
lawyer to inform me, in writing, whether he and his clients had or had
not decided on taking my advice. I directed him, with jocose reference
to the collision of interests between us, to address his letter: "Tit
for Tat, Post-office, West Strand."
In a few days the answer arrived--privately forwarded, of course, to
Post-office, Whitby, by arrangement with my friend in London.
The lawyer's reply was short and surly: "SIR--If my advice had been
followed, you and your anonymous letter would both be treated with the
contempt which they deserve. But the wishes of Miss Magdalen Vanstone's
eldest sister have claims on my consideration which I cannot dispute;
and at her entreaty I inform you that all further proceedings on my part
are withdrawn--on the express understanding that this concession is
to open facilities for written communication, at least, between the two
sisters. A letter from the elder Miss Vanstone is inclosed in this. If I
don't hear in a week's time that it has been received, I shall place the
matter once more in the hands of the police.--WILLIAM PENDRIL." A
sour man, this William Pendril. I can only say of him what an eminent
nobleman once said of his sulky servant--"I wouldn't have such a temper
as that fellow has got for any earthly consideration that could be
offered me!"
As a matter of course, I looked into the letter which the lawyer
inclosed, before delivering it. Miss Vanstone, the elder, described
herself as distracted at not hearing from her sister; as suited with a
governess's situation in a private family; as going into the situation
in a week's time; and as longing for a letter to comfort her, before
she faced the trial of undertaking her new duties. After closing
the envelope again, I accompanied the delivery of the letter to Miss
Vanstone, the younger, by a word of caution. "Are you more sure of your
own courage now," I said, "than you were when I met you?" She was ready
with her answer. "Captain Wragge, when you met me on the Walls of York I
had not gone too far to go back. I have gone too far now."
If she really feels this--and I think she does--her corresponding with
her sister can do no harm. She wrote at great length the same day;
cried profusely over her own epistolary composition; and was remarkably
ill-tempered and snappish toward me, when we met in the evening. She
wants experience, poor girl--she sadly wants experience of the world.
How consoling to know that I am just the man to give it her!