“It is a matter of how they are questioned,” she said in haste.
Joshua regarded her seriously. “The image that has the power to disturb is the only one that has the power to change. Growth is often painful, but to not grow is to begin to die.”
“Are you saying everything perishes sooner or later?” Mr. Marchand asked. He sounded almost casual, but there was a rigidity in his hands, in his body, which belied any ease. “I don’t believe that. I am sure there are values which are eternal.”
Joshua straightened up. “Of course there are,” he agreed. “It is a matter of understanding them, and that is more difficult. One must test the truth often, or it will become polluted by ignorance and misuse.” He smiled, but his eyes were steady. “It’s like the dusting in a good household. It has to be done every day.”
Hope Marchand looked puzzled. She glanced at Caroline, then away again.
Mr. Marchand offered her his arm. “I think it is time we returned to our seats, my dear. We don’t wish to spoil other people’s enjoyment by disturbing them when the performance has begun.” He turned to Caroline. “So nice to see you again, Mrs. Fielding.” Then to Pitt and to Joshua he added, “And to meet you, Mr. Pitt. I hope you enjoy the evening.” A moment later they were gone.
Caroline took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Joshua grinned at her. The expression lit his face with warmth and laughter, and her fear evaporated. She wanted to warn him how close he had come to confusing and hurting people, to explain why they were afraid, but her anger evaporated, and instead she simply smiled back.
The lights dimmed and the curtain rose for the second act.
Caroline directed her attention to the stage, where the drama continued to develop. It could only end in tragedy. The character played by Cecily Antrim hungered for more passion in life than the society in which she was could either give or understand. She was trapped among people who were increasingly disturbed and frightened by her.
Her husband would not divorce her, and she had no power to divorce him and no justification to leave. Even her misery was from no cause she could explain to anyone who did not share it.
Whether she could ever have behaved differently was a question not yet raised, but Caroline was asking herself even while the scene was playing itself out in front of her. She did not wish to identify with Cecily Antrim, a creature of ungovernable emotions, wayward, indiscreet, allowing far too much of herself to be known, and in so doing betraying the inner thoughts of all women.
Caroline was angry for the sense of embarrassment. She wanted to turn away, as one does if accidentally intruding on someone in a private moment. One says nothing, and both parties pretend it did not happen. It was the only way to make civilized living possible. There are things one does not see, words one does not voice, and if they slip out in a moment of heat, they are never repeated. Secrets are necessary.
And here was this actress stripping the coverings of discretion from her very soul and showing the need and the pain, the laughter and the vulnerability, to everyone with the price of a ticket to watch.
The character of the husband was well acted, but he was there to be torn apart, to evoke anger and frustration, and in the end Caroline knew it would be pity as well.
The fiancee also evoked a certain compassion. She was an ordinary girl who could not begin to fight against the woman, all but twice her age, whose subtlety and fire swept away the man she thought she had won. The audience knew the battle for him was lost before the first blow was struck.
The fiancee’s brother was more interesting, not as a character in the play but because the actor who portrayed him had a remarkable presence, even in so relatively minor a part. He was tall and fair. It was difficult to tell his real age, but it must have been no more than twenty-five at the most. He had a sensitivity which came across the footlights, an emotion one was aware of even though he gave it few words. It was an inner energy, something of the mind. He in no sense played to the gallery, but there can have been few in the audience who would not remember him afterwards.
When the second act ended and the lights went up again Caroline did not look at Joshua or Pitt. She did not want to know what they had thought or felt about it, but more than that, she did not wish to betray her own feelings, and she was afraid they would be too readable in her eyes.
There was a knock on the door of the box again, and Joshua went to open it.
Outside was one of Joshua’s fellow actors whom Caroline knew slightly, a man named Charles Leigh. Beside him stood a second man of completely different countenance, taller, a little heavier. There was an intelligence in his face and a humor which lit his eyes even before he spoke, but it was his resemblance to her first husband which for a moment made the breath catch in her throat.
“I should like you to meet my visitor from America, Samuel Ellison. Mr. and Mrs. Fielding, and. .” Leigh began.
“Mr. Pitt,” Joshua supplied. “How do you do.”
“How do you do, sir,” Samuel Ellison replied, bowing very slightly, glancing at the others, but his eyes resting on Caroline. “Pardon me for the intrusion, ma’am, but when Mr. Leigh told me that you were named Ellison before you married Mr. Fielding, I could not wait to meet you.”
“Indeed?” Caroline said uncertainly. It was ridiculous, but she felt a nervousness inside herself, almost alarm. This man was so like Edward she could not doubt some relationship. They were of a height, and their features were not at all unlike. The same longish nose, blue eyes, line of cheeks and jaw. She was uncertain what to say. The play had disoriented her until her usual composure had vanished.
He smiled widely. There was nothing overfamiliar in it. Only a most foolish person would have taken offense.
“I fear I am being much too forward, ma’am,” he apologized. “You see, I hoped we might be related. My mother left these shores a short while before I was born, a matter of weeks, and I heard my father had married again.”
Caroline knew what he would say. The resemblance was too remarkable to deny. But she had no idea of any such person, still less that her father-in-law had had a wife prior to his marriage to her mother-in-law. Her thoughts whirled wildly-had the old lady herself known? Was this going to shatter her world-assuming Caroline told her?
A flicker of anxiety crossed Joshua’s brow.
Samuel was still gazing at Caroline. “My father was Edmund Ellison of King’s Langley, in Hertfordshire. . ”
Caroline cleared her throat. “My husband’s father,” she answered. “You must be. . half brothers.”
Samuel beamed with unaffected delight. “How marvelous! Here am I come all the way from New York to the biggest city in the world, and within a month I have run into you, and at the theatre of all places.” He glanced around him. “Who is to say the hand of destiny is not in it? I am happy beyond words to have found you, ma’am. I hope I may have the privilege of making your further acquaintance, in due course, and that I shall conduct myself in such a manner that we may become friends. Relatives can become mighty tedious, but can any person in the world have too many friends?”
Caroline smiled in spite of herself. It was impossible not to warm to his enthusiasm. And mere good manners required that she make a courteous reply.
“I hope we shall, Mr. Ellison. Are you planning to stay in London for some time?”
“I have no plans, ma’am,” he said airily. “I am my own master and shall do whatever I wish, as opportunities arise. So far I am having such an excellent time that I could not possibly think of leaving.” Again his eyes wandered around the crowded auditorium. “I feel as if the whole world and all its ideas are here, sooner or later, and if I wait I shall see them all.”
Caroline smiled. “I have heard it said that if you stand in Piccadilly Circus long enough, everyone who is anyone will pass by.”
“I can believe it,” he agreed. “But I should probably be arrested for loitering. I had far rather go out and look for people than wait for them to come to me.”
“Do you live in New York, Mr. Ellison?” Joshua enquired, making room for Samuel and Leigh to be more comfortable, allowing Samuel to have his chair.
“I’ve lived in all sorts of places,” Samuel answered pleasantly, sitting down and crossing his legs. “I was born in New York. My mother landed there from the ship, and it took her quite some time to get a start. What with being alone, and expecting a child, life wasn’t easy for her. She was a brave woman, and a likable one, and she found friends who were generous enough to care for her when I was born.”
