Penny Dreadfuls, 1856 · page 91 of 399
Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 91: what you’re looking at
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78 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. nn UTE rnnnnnenenennememnmmmeemesemmm teense me: therefore, on presenting himself in Great Ormond Street according to my summons, he was very far from entertaining the slightest apprehen- sion that he was about to lose my services. I re- ceived him alone in the drawing-room ; and after the exchange of a fow observations on general topics, I said, “ Mr. Richards, it would be unhand- some on my part to keep you any longer in the dark in reference to my future intentions. There- fore I must at once inform you of my determina- tion to withdraw from the stage.” He literally bounded upon his chair: for a few moments he surveyed me with a look of silent consternation; and then he exclaimed, “ No, Miss Trafford! it is impossible! ‘Let me hope that you cannot be serious e “Tt is my purpose, Mr. Richards,” I said, “ to deal with you frankly. I have accepted no en- gagement from any rival house—I am not seek- ing by means of a subterfuge for an increase of emoluments from your treasury: I am incapable of behaving in an underhand manner towards ou 2? ‘ “TI know it, Miss Trafford—I know it!” said the lessee, who was much affected: “ but the ioss of your services comes upon me with the violence of a blow! Is there no inducement I can hold out? I hopefully anticipated a renewal of your engagement, under which circumstances it was my intention to offer of my own accord a considerable increase of salary a “J was about to inform you,” I said, “that the sudden accession of some little amount of fortune, totally unexpected by me a few weeks back, has led me to the resolve which I am now communi- cating to you. To be frank, I find myself inde- pendent of the stage ; and to be still more com- pletely candid with you, Mr. Richards indeed, that there may not be the slightest mistake as to my position I may add that in a short time I shall perhaps be altogether settled in life.” “T assuredly wish you all happiness, Miss Traf:- ford! But the intelligence of your withdrawal from the stage is, I repeat, a sad blow for me. First of all I lost that young French lady whose debut was so brilliant—now I am to lose you < * But Miss Glentworth remains,” I interjected : “her success is already immense—she is devoted to the profession which she has embraced—and there is no chance of your losing her services for the presert.” ‘This is at least a consolation,” said Mr. Rich- ards: then after a few moments’ reflection, he added, “You do not purpose, I hope, to leave London immediately P” * By no means,” I rejoined. “ Might I request,’ proceeded the lessee, “ that you will favour me with your presence at the theatre for a single hour the day after to-morrow ? —let us say at noon precisely. Ina word, Miss Trafford, I am sure that you will afford the ladies and gentlemen of my company that opportunity of expressing their friendship towards you, their regret at the severance of your professional alli- ance with them, and their sincere wishes for your prosperity and welfare.” “Not for an instant, Mr. Richards,” I an- swered, “can I hesitate to accept an invitation which is every way so flattering to myself! I will meet you, and the ladies and gentlemen of me _ your company, at noon precisely the day after to. morrow.” “There is one more topic on which I ought to touch,” said Mr, Richards. ‘“ During the two years which your professional career has lasted, you have always refused to avail yourself of the privilege of a Benefit. Would it be indiscreet on my part to offer you such an opportunity of bid- ding farewell to the public ?” “While thanking you for the generosity of your proposal,” I answered, “permit me to decline it. I am possessed of pecuniary resources ample enough to render such a proceeding unnecessary ; and though I will candidly admit that I have had my pride and my ambition in pursuing my pro- fessional career, yet I do not wish to quit the stage with the eclat of aformal announcement. I would rather disappear from it privately, so to speak: my withdrawal need not be at once generally made known—it will be time enough for it to transpire at the opening of the next season, when you put forward your usual announcements.” Mr. Richards took his leave of me, deeply re- gretting the loss of my services. I had already spoken seriously to Mary Glentworth in respect to her own interests: I had assured her that if she would leave the stage and continue to live with me as my friend and sister—the welcome partaker of my riches—I should be only too much delighted by such a decision on her part; and at the same time I gave her to understand that if she preferred to remain upon the stage, such a resolve need not make the slightest difference in any other respect ; for that she must live with me as heretofore—and indeed it would grieve me infinitely if through my own altered circumstances she were to dream of a separation. Her decision was quickly made known; she was determined to pursue the dramatic career on which she had so hopefully entered; but she would never separate from me so long as I chose that we should dwell together as bosom-friends or sisters. Although now possessed of a large fortune, and thus enabled to live in a style far superior to that which I had hitherto maintained, i nevertheless determined to make no alteration in this respect. The time was close at hand when my cousin Henry would return to his native shores; and I knew, or at least hoped that nothing need prevent the con- summation of our happiness by the solemnization of our nuptials. It would then be time sufficient to decide upon our future course of life—the quar- ter of the metropolis in which we might choose to fix our residence—and the degree of style which we should keep up. Therefore I determined for the present to make no change in my establish- ment, nor for any such purpose to avail myself of the riches that had come into my possession. Precisely at the hour of noon on the appointed day I proceeded with Mary Glentworth to the theatre. Having received a hint to the effect that a collation was to be served in Mr. Richards’ pri- vate apartment, we first of all repaired to the dressing-room which for two years had been mine, but which was now my friend Mary’s only. Here we took off our bonnets and scarfs; and thence we proceeded to the lessee’s room. An elegant lun- cheon was prepared; and when the repast was concluded, Mr. Richards requested that I would step to the Green Room as the most appropriate Gomicboo a