Edmund Bertram's Diary

Julia and Maria agreed eagerly, whilst Miss Crawford turned a dazzling countenance on him and told him it was an excellent idea. I was in favor of it, too. Fanny had never been to a ball, and I was pleased that her first experience of such an entertainment would take place at Mansfield, where her shyness would be no handicap and where she would be sure of partners. I secured her hand for the first two dances and made sure Tom would ask her later on. I knew I could rely on Crawford to act the gentleman and ask her as well, and so he did. Miss Crawford and I danced together, and though we danced ’till late, I would have been happy for the ball to have gone on ’til dawn.

Thursday 22 September

‘By Jove! we are a happy party,’ said Yates at breakfast. ‘Even happier than the party in Cornwal, or at least happier than we were before Ravenshaw suggested we all perform a play. Ecclesford is one of the best houses in England for doing such a thing. What a time we had of it!

The rehearsals were going along splendidly...’ he said, with a sigh and a shake of the head.

‘It was a hard case, upon my word,’ said Tom.

‘I do think you are very much to be pitied,’ said Maria.

‘The play we were to have performed was Lovers’ Vows, and I was to have been Count Cassel. A trifling part, and not at all to my taste, and such a one as I certainly would not accept again; but I was determined to make no difficulties. Lord Ravenshaw and the duke had appropriated the only two characters worth playing before I reached Ecclesford; and though Lord Ravenshaw offered to resign his to me, it was impossible to take it, you know. Our Agatha was inimitable, and the duke was thought very great by many. And upon the whole, it would certainly have gone off wonderful y. It is not worth complaining about; but to be sure the poor old dowager could not have died at a worse time; and it is impossible to help wishing that the news could have been suppressed for just the three days we wanted. It was but three days; and being only a grandmother, and all happening two hundred miles off, I think there would have been no great harm, and it was suggested, I know; but Lord Ravenshaw, who I suppose is one of the most correct men in England, would not hear of it.’

‘An afterpiece instead of a comedy,’ said Tom. ‘Lovers’ Vows were at an end, and Lord and Lady Ravenshaw left to act My Grandmother by themselves. To make you amends, Yates, I think we must raise a little theatre at Mansfield, and ask you to be our manager.’

The idea seized the party.

‘Let us be doing something,’ said Crawford. ‘Be it only half a play, an act, a scene; what should prevent us? And for a theatre, what signifies a theatre? We shall be only amusing ourselves. Any room in this house might suffice.’

‘We must have a curtain,’ said Tom. ‘A few yards of green baize for a curtain, and perhaps that may be enough.’

‘Oh, quite enough,’ cried Yates, ‘with only just a side wing or two run up, doors in flat, and three or four scenes to be let down; nothing more would be necessary on such a plan as this. For mere amusement among ourselves we should want nothing more.’

I was startled, for such an undertaking would involve a great deal of expense at a time when the estate could little afford it, besides taking the carpenter from his regular duties at a time when he could not be spared. But Tom waved my doubts aside and was soon pressing the merits of a comedy, whilst my sisters and Crawford preferred a tragedy.

There was so much argument I began to breathe easily again, for I thought they would argue so much over the play that nothing would come of it after all. But in this I was mistaken, for when we were in the billiard room this evening, Tom declared it to be the very size and shape for a theatre.

‘If we move the bookcase away from the door in my father’s room, it can be made to open, and as it will then communicate with our theatre in the billiard room we can use it as a greenroom.’

‘You are not serious?’ I asked him.

‘Not serious! Never more so, I assure you. What is there to surprise you in it?’

‘We cannot make free with my father’s room,’ I objected.

‘Why not? What does it matter, when he is not here to see it?’

My thoughts ran to wine stains on the carpet, white rings on the desk — for I believed Yates to be capable of putting a hot cup down on the polished wood — and all the attendant evils of carelessness, but Tom would not listen.