‘Beyond Cloudyfold?’ asked Miss Prentice sweetly. Henry saw her exchange a glance with Miss Campanula.
‘Mrs Ross doesn’t have tea till five,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘which I consider a silly ostentation. We certainly will not wait for Dr Templett. Ha!’
‘Templett didn’t say anything about going to Mrs Ross’s,’ said the rector, innocently, ‘though to be sure it is on his way.’
‘My dear good man,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘if you weren’t a saint – however! I only hope he doesn’t try and get her into our play.’
‘Idris dear,’ said Miss Prentice. ‘May I?’
She collected their attention and then said very quietly:
‘I think we are all agreed, aren’t we, that this little experiment is to be just among ourselves? I have got several little plays here for five and six people and I fancy Dinah has found some too.’
‘Six,’ said Miss Campanula very firmly. ‘Five characters won’t do, Eleanor. We’ve three ladies and three men. And if the rector –’
‘No,’ said the rector, ‘I shall not appear. If there’s any help I can give behind the scenes, I shall be only too delighted, but I really don’t want to appear.’
‘Three ladies and three men, then,’ said Miss Campanula. ‘Six.’
‘Certainly no more,’ said Miss Prentice.
‘Well,’ said the squire, ‘if Mrs Ross is very good at acting, and I must say she’s an uncommonly attractive little thing –’
‘No, Jocelyn,’ said Miss Prentice.
‘She is very attractive,’ said Henry.
‘She’s got a good figure,’ said Dinah. ‘Has she had any experience?’
‘My dear child,’ said Miss Campanula loudly, ‘she’s as common as dirt and we certainly don’t want her. I may say that I myself have seen Eleanor’s plays and I fully approve of Simple Susan. There are six characters: three men and three ladies. There is no change of scene, and the theme is suitable.’
‘It’s rather old,’ said Dinah dubiously.
‘My dear child,’ repeated Miss Campanula, ‘if you think we’re going to do one of your modern questionable problem-plays you’re very greatly mistaken.’
‘I think some of the modern pieces are really not quite suitable,’ agreed Miss Prentice gently.
Henry and Dinah smiled.
‘And as for Miss Selia Ross,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘I believe in calling a spade a spade and I have no hesitation in saying I think we’ll be doing a Christian service to poor Mrs Templett, who we all know is too much an invalid to look after herself, if we give Dr Templett something to think about besides –’
‘Come,’ said the rector desperately, ‘aren’t we jumping our fences before we meet them? We haven’t appointed a chairman yet and so far nobody has suggested that Mrs Ross be asked to take part.’
‘They’d better not,’ said Miss Campanula.
The door was thrown open by Taylor, who announced:
‘Mrs Ross and Dr Templett, sir.’
‘What!’ exclaimed the squire involuntarily.
An extremely well-dressed woman and a short rubicund man walked into the room.
‘Hullo! Hullo!’ shouted Dr Templett. ‘I’ve brought Mrs Ross along by sheer force. She’s a perfectly magnificent actress and I tell her she’s got to come off her high horse and show us all how to set about it. I know you’ll be delighted.’
CHAPTER 2 Six Parts and Seven Actors
It was Henry who rescued the situation when it was on the verge of becoming a scene. Neither Miss Campanula nor Miss Prentice made the slightest attempt at cordiality. The squire uttered incoherent noises, shouted ‘What!’ and broke out into uncomfortable social laughter. Dinah greeted Mrs Ross with nervous civility. The rector blinked and followed his daughter’s example. But on Henry the presence of Dinah acted like a particularly strong stimulant and filled him with a vague desire to be nice to the entire population of the world. He shook Mrs Ross warmly by the hand, complimented Dr Templett on his side, and suggested, with a beaming smile, that they should at once elect a chairman and decide on a play.
The squire, Dinah, and the rector confusedly supported Henry. Miss Campanula gave a ringing sniff. Miss Prentice, smiling a little more widely than usual, said:
‘I’m afraid we are short of one chair. We expected to be only seven. Henry dear, you will have to get one from the dining-room. I’m so sorry to bother you.’
‘I’ll share Dinah’s chair,’ said Henry happily.
‘Please don’t get one for me,’ said Mrs Ross. ‘Billy can perch on my arm.’
She settled herself composedly in a chair on the rector’s left and Dr Templett at once sat on the arm. Miss Prentice had already made sure of her place on the rector’s right hand and Miss Campanula, defeated, uttered a short laugh and marched to the far end of the table.
‘I don’t know whether this is where I am bidden, Eleanor,’ she said, ‘but the meeting seems to be delightfully informal, so this is where I shall sit. Ha!’
Henry, his father, and Dinah took the remaining chairs.
From the old chandelier a strong light was cast down on the eight faces round the table; on the squire, pink with embarrassment; on Miss Prentice, smiling; on Miss Campanula, like an angry mare, breathing hard through her nostrils; on Henry’s dark Jernigham features; on Dinah’s crisp and vivid beauty; on the rector’s coin-sharp priestliness and on Dr Templett’s hearty undistinguished normality. It shone on Selia Ross. She was a straw-coloured woman of perhaps thirty-eight. She was not beautiful but she was exquisitely neat. Her hair curved back from her forehead in pale waves. The thick white skin of her face was beautifully made-up and her clothes were admirable. There was a kind of sharpness about her so that she nearly looked haggard. Her eyes were pale and you would have guessed that the lashes were white when left to themselves. Almost every human being bears some sort of resemblance to an animal and Mrs Ross was a little like a ferret. But for all that she had a quality that arrested the attention of many woman and most men. She had a trick of widening her eyes, and looking slant ways. Though she gave the impression of fineness she was in reality so determined that any sensibilities she possessed were held in the vice of her will. She was a coarse-grained woman but she seemed fragile. Her manner was gay and good natured, but though she went out of her way to do kindnesses, her tongue was quietly malicious. It was clear to all women who met her that her chief interest was men. Dinah watched her now and could not help admiring the cool assurance with which she met her frigid reception. It was impossible to guess whether Mrs Ross was determined not to show her hurts or was merely so insensitive that she felt none. ‘She has got a cheek,’ thought Dinah. She looked at Henry and saw her own thoughts reflected in his face. Henry’s rather startlingly fierce eyes were fixed on Mrs Ross and in them Dinah read both awareness and appraisal. He turned his head, met Dinah’s glance, and at once his expression changed into one of such vivid tenderness that her heart turned over. She was drowned in a wave of emotion and was brought back to the world by the sound of Miss Prentice’s voice.
‘– to elect a chairman for our little meeting. I should like