Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 122: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE somewhat full, had the luscious hue of the cherry rather than the vivid redness of the coral. Her neck was long, arching proudly, and carrying superbly rather than gracefully the head which was poised upon it. Her figure was well formed— sufficiently slender as yet for her youthful ase— but giving promise of expanding into ampler pro- portions with the growth of womanhood. The arms were superbly modelled; and the dress of dark purple velvet which she wore, seemed admir- ably suited for her peculiar style of beauty. No— it was not béauty that invested her: for the term “beauty ” irresistibly associates itself in the mind with all that is soft and charming and fascinating in woman, especially when allied with youthful- ness: but this lady was haughtily handsome—and there was something in her which overawed rather than attracted, and which instead of winning the heart of an observer, repelled and made it afraid. ; When peeping from behind the scenes, I could not help suffering my gaze to linger upon this lady whom I have just been describing, until I felt the thought stealing in unto my mind that if I happened to become acquainted with her I could not possibly like her. Casting my looks slowly over the assembled audience to the farther extre- mity of the room, I was dazzled by the brilliant scene. The ladies were all dressed with either richness or elegance, and in very many instances with both combined; for this is not always the case with female toilets in England, even in the highest sphere of society. I was astonished at the splendid galaxy of beauty which thus greeted my vision: for it cannot be denied that the British aristocracy boasts the most remarkable specimens of feminine loveliness which the civilized world can produce. Lady Lilla Essendine was not present: I have already said that she lived in comparative seclusion, and mixed but little in that society which, by her rank at least, she was entitled to frequent. | The performances commenced; and in due course I appeared in the character of Queen Cathe- rine. As in respect to other dramatic personifi- cations, I had made this character my own; and though I had carefully studied numerous critiques upon the style in which Mrs. Siddons had repre- sented it, yet I had done this more for the purpose of instruction by comparison than for actual imi- tation. It was my ambition to be an original actress, if I may use the term. The costume which I wore was however so far like that in which Mrs. Siddons was wont to appear that it most appro- priately suited the fashion of the period in which the incidents of the drama were cast. There is not generally much applause at private theatricals in high life: but when I made my appearance I was received with an amount of enthusiasm which could not be otherwise than highly flattering. A glance however at the front seats showed me that Lady Mangold was lolling back with an air of af- fected indifference, and fanning herself with an assumed listlessness, as if nothing extraordinary nor interesting was taking place: while that proud dark-eyed lady whom I have described, seemed to be regarding me with a cold haughty disdain. The Duchess favoured me with an affable smile of cor- dial approbation; and just as the applause was dying away, I distinctly heard the Duke say to the ~~ ~ = MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS 109 toad-eating hanger-on, “ What a pity it is, Peaseblossom, that you refused to be Henry the Highth !” I was predetermined to throw all my energies into the part which I had to perform, and to exer- cise all my abilities. I cared nothing for the superciliousness of Lady Mangold nor for the cold disdain of the haughty dark-eyed lady. As on former occasions, I identified myself with the cha. racter which I was representing; and I was sufli- ciently carried away by the enthusiasm of my own feelings to give effect to the various phases of the personification, without violating the truth of na- ture. My success was therefore complete. The Marquis of Dalrymple performed as an amateur in the same piece; and I could not help observing that he surveyed me with unmistakable admiration. This was not however visible to the spectators: but it was remarked by some of those who performed with me; for during an interval between the Acts, Mrs. Norman laughingly whis- pered that I had evidently won the young Mar. quis’s heart; and another professional actress said to me, with a gay sly look, “I think, Miss Traf- ford, there was even more admiration in a certain quarter upon the stage than there was amongst the audience—though even that was great.” “Indeed!” I observed, choosing to appear as if ~ I did not understand the allusion. “Oh, yes!” replied the actress, who was a good-natured young woman, of a cheerful dispo- sition, and by no means mischievously inclined: “the Marquis never once took his eyes off you. Pray take care—or Lady Cecilia Urban will bo- come terribly jealous !” “Lady Cecilia Urban?” I said, now suddenly recollecting that ~ had once before heard that name mentioned, on the occasion when I was for a few moments an unwilling listener to the dis- course of the Duchess and her son. “Yes, to be sure!’ responded the actress. ** Have you not heard it rumoured that the Mar- quis of Dalrymple is to marry Lady Cecilia? Come here, and take a peep. You see that dark- eyed girl, with the pale complexion and a cold proud expression of countenance—but with the large eyes that seem to burn 4 “ Yes,” L answered. “ And that is Lady Cecilia Urban P” Here our colloquy was cut short by the ringing of the bell for the drawing up of the curtain on the final Act. When it was concluded, and the curtain had again fallen, I heard the Duke’s voice vociferously shouting my name; and it was echoed by that of Mr. Peaseblossom. The cry uow be- came almost general; and the young Marquis hastened to accost me in the adjoining apartment which had served as the green-room. | * Will you permit me to lead you forward, Miss Trafford ?” he said, proffering his hand. “T think, my lord,” I answered, with a smile, “that it ought to be Mr. Norman, as he has per- formed the part of the King.” “ No—suffer his lordship to have that honour,” interjected Mr. Norman—thus, though quite in- nocently, throwing me into the very situation that I was endeavouring to avoid. “Come, Miss Trafford!” said the Marquis, seizing my hand, while his countenance was glow- ing with admiration and delight. “Do you not —_—_—_—> CORNIELOO® 6S Com