Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

Fi | | eee en em www ES Ssh State ees estes sent ie ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, “ Indeed!” I exclaimed in astonishment. wherefore that assumed flame P” * Because nothing English goes down with the English?’ replied Juliet. “You see, my dear Ellen, the English are constantly boasting of everything that is English: and yet they patro- nise everything that is foreign. ‘Tn the fashion- able world a gentleman must have his French valet and a lady her French maid; the cook must be French, and the dishes served upon the table must be French likewise. The hairdresser must be French; watches, lace, silks, perfumes, gloves, fashions, everything must be foreign. The gen- tleman will patronise a German tailor, and the lady a French milliner. Music must be foreign— singers and dancers must be foreign likewise. And then, don’t you see, my dear Ellen,” added Juliet, with another merry laugh, “I am not a dancer, nor an actress, nor anything at all with an English name IT am a figurante or an artiste.” “And Mr. and Mrs. Norman?” I said inquir- ingly. “Oh! they keep their right names,” exclaimed Juliet, “and are not compelled upon the stage to repudiate their own country and pass as the natives of another. They perform in English pieces though, by the bye, they are only called English pieces because they are rendered into the English language; for the fact is that they are in reality French. In a word, everything must be foreign, or have a foreign source, or be in some way con- nected with something that és foreign, to please the English fashionable world. But I was going to observe that my father and mother are really eminent in their profession, and can always com- mand good engagements—I mean when anything is doing in the theatrical world; because there is sometimes a lull, or a check, or @ stagnation there as well as in other things. For instance, the week before last the manager to whose company my father and mother belonged, suddenly closed his doors—put up a placard with something about ‘unavoidable circumstances’ in it—and then took a walk to Basinghall Street.” ‘And what did he do there?” I asked, quite innocently. “Went into the Bankruptcy Court,” replied Juliet, laughing at my ingenuous simplicity. “ But my father and mother will enter upon a new en- gagement elsewhere next Monday; and I have likewise an engagement at the same place. Our united salaries will amount to twenty-five guineas a week; and thus you see that we may always reckon upon earning sufficient to live in com- fort “ Tn luxury, I should say,” was my interjected _ observation. “Well, in luxury, if you like to call it so,” re- plied J uliet. “We keep a carriage—you have seen a little how we live—we give gay parties— and we visit a great deal. And then too we have acquaintances amongst the highest aristocracy—I mean of course the male portion of it: but my afather and mother are always very particular whom they suffer to approach me; and if they were not, it would be just the same—for I should be particular myself.— But really, my dear Ellen, I have been speaking so much of my own affairs * But that I have quite forgotten your’s. You last night told us exactly how you were situated; and after you had gone to bed, I sat up with my father and mother for two hours talking about you.” “It was indeed very kind,” I observed ; “ and I am most grateful for all the interest your parents and yourself are taking in me.” “My father said,” continued Juliet, “that it was avery great pity you should think of going out into the world as a governess—to occupy a false position, a little above that of the servants of the house, and infinitely below that of the master and mistress—to be incessantly at the mercy of the lady’ s caprices, and perhaps exposed to the gentle- man’s impudence—to have to deal with a parcel of children whose faults you have not sufficient authority to curb, whose love you cannot win, and whose ignorance perhaps you cannot overcome—to be miserably paid and worse treated - “Good heavens, Juliet !’ I exclaimed in con- sternation; “what picture is this which you are drawing P” “The picture of the life of a governess,” an- swered Miss Norman, with a mournful seriousness. * T am not speaking thus, my dear Ellen, to dis- hearten and render you wretched on the threshold of a profession which you have thought of adopt- ing; but in the most friendly spirit Tam preparing you for all you will have to encounter if you per- sist in entering it. Nay, more—I will candidly confess that I am endeavouring to dissuade you from it. A young lady with your sensitive feel- ings—with your kind and excellent disposition— would discover the life of a governess to be intol- erable !” “ But what am I to do?” I exclaimed, bursting into tears. “ Nothing shall induce me to return to my aunt, in order to be a burden upon her re- sources, No!” I added vehemently, at the same time brushing away those tears; “I will sooner enduré anything—encounter any wretched- ness e “Cheer up, my sweet friend,” interrupted Juliet, doing her best to console me. “Do you imagine that the profession of a governess is the only one in the world P” “No,” I responded : and then, as I in my art- less inexperience surveyed Juliet ‘almost enviously, I added, “ No—for I see that you yourself are pursuing one which is far more happy, lucrative, and agreeable.” & Coma: ” said Miss Norman, “we have talked sufficiently upon the subject this morning. My father’s house is your home for as long as you like to render it so; and we shall therefore find plenty of leisure to discuss plans for your future advan- tage. cee: I ought to do something speedily,” I said; “because I must write to my aunt, who will be anxious concerning me re “Write by all means,” interrupted Juliet : “ tell her how you have been treated in respect to the advertisement ——but tell her likewise that you have fallen in with friends who are proud and de- lighted to have you with them. Perhaps, how- ever, it would be just as well if you' were not to mention what profession we follow.” “ No—I will not mention it, my dear Juliet,” I answered : for methought that if was a request that was thus made rather than a recommendation which was given. i eee COnnicloool< ome ee SOLE A Tt Ns com