In the shrubbery there was a spot which I called the Dell. I had been attracted to it from the first. It was a little square shut in by the bushes. A gap in them made an entrance and was not very noticeable unless one knew where it was. There was an aura of privacy which appealed to me. I often sat there, for there was a convenient overturned treetrunk which served well as a seat.

One day, when I was speeding past the Dell, to my surprise I heard someone there speaking. I could not hear what was said, so I paused. It must, I supposed, be some of the guests. I did not want to be seen, for I had a notion that if my presence was commented on I might be prevented from coming. I listened.

To my surprise, it seemed that there was only one voice ... a very musical one. I could not hear exactly what was being said, but it sounded as though this voice was reciting poetry. I crept closer. I was very near to the entrance of the Dell.

It was one of the softest and most mellow voices that I had ever heard.

What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet ...

The voice stopped suddenly.

"Who's there?" it asked.

I stood very still. My impulse was to run, to hide if I could, but the owner of the voice would see me sprinting across the lawn and there was no place to hide.

She came out of the Dell and saw me. I looked at her in amazement. She was the woman I had gazed at from the house. She looked more beautiful than when I had first seen her. Her hair fell loose about her shoulders, and her face was flushed.

She said: "Who are you? You are not the daughter ..."

"No," I said. "I am Sarah Standish. I was coming to see Maria."

She started to laugh. She said accusingly: "You were listening."

"It was lovely," I told her. "I knew it. We did Romeo and Juliet the year before Miss Grey went. It did not sound quite like that when we read it ... though the words were the same."

That made her laugh again. She was very friendly and not in the least upset because I had eavesdropped.

"I was perusing my lines," she said. "I am an actress, Kitty Carslake. I shall be on the stage in three days' time."

"How very exciting that must be."

"Do you think so?"

"I think it must be one of the most wonderful things in the world to be an actress."

"Stagestruck, are you?"

I looked at her in puzzlement.

She went on: "You'd be surprised how many people are, especially now that the theaters are flourishing again and for the first time women are allowed to appear on the stage. It is not always easy, you know. But one has one's moments. I tell you, I'm in a state of panic already, and it will be worse when the time comes nearer."

"You mean about playing the part? You seemed to be doing it beautifully."

"Others might not be as kind as you are."

"I wasn't thinking of being kind. I was only saying what I thought."

She smiled at me, then she laughed again.

"You must have wondered what sort of person you would find talking to herself and hiding herself away to do it."

"I thought there was someone with you, and that I should have to be careful lest I was seen."

"Should you not have been seen?"

"Well, I suppose it does not matter very much, but I always wonder whether I should be here. I am not one of them, you know. My father manages the estate."

"I see. And you are a friend of Maria's?"

"Yes. We did share a governess, but now that Maria is seventeen the governess has gone. But we are still friends."

"Is she expecting you now?"

"No. I just go to the schoolroom when I like. And if she is there we talk, and if not I watch the people from the schoolroom window."

I found I was telling her a great deal about myself. It was so easy to talk to her. I explained how I liked to see the people and how it had all changed.

She listened gravely, then she said: "Have you ever been to the theater?"

"No. I should love to go ... more than anything."

"Perhaps you will come and see me one day."

"How I should love to see you as Juliet!"

"I believe you fancy yourself as an actress."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"I'll tell you what we will do. I should be practicing my lines. It is not easy without your fellow actors." She took a paper from her pocket. "Can you read well?" she asked.

"Oh yes, I am better than Maria really. So Miss Grey said."

"I have no doubt Miss Grey was right. Now listen. Here is the scene." She waved the paper. "You are Romeo, understand?"

I nodded.

"You see where he comes in. We'll do it together. You read your part and I'll come in with mine. Do you see what I mean?"

"Oh, yes ... yes," I cried excitedly as I took the paper.

It was a magical experience. She looked so beautiful and she spoke the words as I had never heard them spoken before. I was caught up in the scene. For me she was Juliet in her balcony and I was Romeo looking up at her from below.

With love's light wings did I perperch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out. And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

I was living in enchantment. I was Romeo. This was not the Willerton shrubbery. This was Juliet's balcony. I had never experienced anything like it.

I stood very still, looking up at Kitty Carslake. She was gazing at me with what seemed like amazement.

She said slowly: "You were good. You were very good."

"It was lovely," I replied.

"I believe you are that unfortunate creature—a born actress."

"Did you say unfortunate?"

"Yes, I did. Perhaps I went a little too far. Perhaps some people find life unfortunate. No matter. But Sarah Standish, I believe you were born to act upon a stage."

She put her arm round me and kissed me lightly.

"There," she said, "that was for Romeo."

We sat down on the fallen treetrunk and she told me how she had always wanted to act and, when the King came back and the theaters were opened again, she had had her chance.

Then suddenly she cried out: "I must go. They'll be looking for me. Au revoir, Romeo."

I watched her running across the lawn. The dream was over. I was almost amazed to see that the Dell was merely the Dell. The Capulet house no longer stood there, and Juliet's balcony was the branches of a sapling.

Now that she had departed, she had taken the magic with her.

I did not tell Maria what had happened. I wanted to keep it to myself, but I did try to find out more about Kitty Carslake.

"Kitty Carslake," said Maria. "She would not have been asked but for Lord Donnerton."

"Why should she be asked because of him?"

"Oh, he is pursuing her. My father wanted to see Lord Donnerton on some matter ... of business, I'll swear. He thought the best way of making sure he came was to invite this actress. Why are you interested in her?"

"Well, she is an actress."

"Not one of the really well known ones."

"I expect she will be ... soon."

"How do you know?" But she was not really interested in Mistress Kitty Carslake.

A month or so later she was very excited because she was going to London. It was the most exciting place in the world, she told me. Everything happened there. The King himself was often seen strolling in the parks, and there were carriages everywhere, carrying elegant ladies and gentlemen to the theaters or the court.

"And while we are there," she added, "we shall go to the Donnerton wedding."

"Donnerton!" I cried. "Does that mean he is marrying the actress?"

"That is so," replied Maria. "She gave way in the end. I suppose it was irresistible. Actresses have a wonderful time while the people like them ... but it might not be the same when they get old. Nobody wants them then. I reckon Kitty Car slake was lucky. Not every one of them marries into the peerage—and that is what they are all hoping for."

After that I thought of her often. I would enact that scene in my mind. I knew the words off by heart now. I thought: If she came again I could do it without the paper.

As if she would! As if she would remember! She had just been kind and she had used me to play the part of Romeo because there was no one else available.

a>2

Perhaps that might have been the end of my dreams if Kitty Carslake had not come back to Wilier ton. And this time she came as Lady Donnerton.

The first intimation I had of her presence there was when one of the boys from the Wilier ton stables came over to our house. I was very relieved that my parents were not there at the time when I heard that the messenger wanted to see me.

"I've got a message from Lady Donnerton. It's for you, Mistress."

He handed me a note on which was written:

Could you be at the Capulet balcony at three of the clock this afternoon? If so, I will be there to meet you.

Kitty Carslake

My heart was beating with excitement and the boy was watching me closely.

"Please tell Lady Donnerton that I shall be there," I said.

He sped away, leaving me somewhat bemused and overcome with eagerness to know why her ladyship wished to see me.

I was there before the appointed time. I had been telling myself she wanted me to rehearse something with her. I was immensely flattered that she remembered me.

She came and I was delighted to see that she had changed not at all, in spite of her grand title.

"I knew you'd come," she said. "Much has happened since we last met. I have become a ladyship!"

"Yes, I heard. Maria went to your wedding."

"A very grand affair, worthy of a high and mighty lord. Though there was much shaking of heads at his choice of bride—meant to be discreetly hidden, of course, from that unworthy lady."

"I do not believe that you are in the least little bit unworthy."

"Nor do I," she said with a laugh. "I guessed we would be of one mind on that point. Do you still think fondly of the theater? Of a surety you do. I see it in your eyes. I understand. There is nothing like it. The noise ... the color ... the elegance ... the girls selling their China oranges ... the people thronging the place ... the apprentices and the like quizzing the grand ladies and gentlemen in their boxes. And then, of course, the actors and the stage ... and the company. No, there is nothing in the world to compare with it."

"Now that you are a grand lady, do you miss being an actress?" I said.

Her eyes were a little misty, and she replied: "You sensed that, did you not? Yes, you knew it. Then I will tell you why I wished to see you. Up at the house we are going to do a little piece ... a play."

"You mean here?"

"I suggested we should. It was at the dinner table last night. We talked of the stage. I said we could do something here. There is a dais in the ballroom which would do very well as a stage. I will take you into a secret. Mistress Sarah. I intended it to be. I came prepared. I had this little piece with me. It is very simple ... easy for those who know nothing about the theater. Listen, my child. There is a part in it which is of interest. It is that of a little waif. Not the main part, but a good one. She is taken into a lord's house and the play shows what a difference she makes to everyone's life. Now, who should play the part of this little waif?"

She was looking at me intently. Then she began to laugh.

"Who," she went on, "but Mistress Sarah Standish? I have a romantic fancy that it is the beginning of a brilliant career."

I was speechless. I could not believe what she was hinting. It was not possible. I was letting my imagination run away with my good sense.

"I ... ?" I stammered.

"Why not? I have already spoken to Lady Willerton. She is not averse. They are all excited about the prospect of doing a play. These house visits often result in a certain ennui for some guests. They are so predictable. One is so very much like another, and that is tiresome when one goes to so many. People aim to be a little different. So ... our little piece will at least enliven the scene. They are all excited and I have said that you are the one to play our little waif. I told them that you had once rehearsed lines with me, so I was sure you could do it. And there was no one who could play the part. Maria perhaps, but she had no heart for it and is happy to pass it on to you. So no difficulties there. Will you take the part, Mistress Standish?"