"Hardly at all," replied Kitty.
"Then it is bed. Rose has put in the warming pans so you'll be comfortable. Next you'll get up there and have a good sleep. Then we'll hear all about it."
"Don't rush us, Mag!" said Kitty.
"Who's rushing? You'll be fit for nothing till you have had a good sleep. The girl needs it. Look! She's dropping with exhaustion."
Her eyes were on me and I smiled wanly.
"Come on," said Maggie. "Upstairs. Do not think about anything else. Do as I say."
I knew she expected immediate obedience and she had it. I imagined she always would. She was right. I guessed she always was that, too.
Those first weeks in London are like a hazy dream to me now. The big city of which I had thought so often in the old days was unlike anything I had ever imagined. The streets, which were full of bustle and noise, amazed me. I was entranced by the tradesmen and -women who paraded the streets, shouting of their wares, from hot pies to pins, describing the latest executions and scandals which were chronicled in the sheets of paper they flourished. These tradespeople, the beggars, the fine gallants and those aping them: they all jostled each other in those streets. I liked to see the grand ladies and gentlemen riding in their carriages, elaborately dressed, the men no less than the women, their wigs—
masses of luxuriant curls—showing under their feather-decked hats.
Maggie commented that it was better than it had been in the old days when, if a girl had a pretty face, she had to keep it out of sight as much as possible, though now they had all gone to the opposite extreme and wanted to show more than their faces.
"It's always the way," she added. "Push people back too far and they'll come prancing too far forward as soon as they get the chance."
I was fascinated, but most of all, of course, by the theater. As I sat in that wooden building, in the pit, which was far from comfortable and indeed rather draughty, for there was no heating save that which came from the press of people—and that could make it too hot—and as I looked up at the glazed cupola and watched the people around me shouting to each other, gazing up to the boxes filling with fine ladies and gentlemen who looked down with disdain on those in the cheap seats, I knew that I had been right to come. And when the play began, that was utter enchantment.
In the beginning, the prospect of how I was going to find my way on to the stage had not yet struck me, for in those first weeks of settling in, there were so many new experiences that I found it difficult to absorb them all.
Within a few weeks of our return, Kitty was offered a part in Rule a Wife and Have a Wife.
Maggie Mead, from the first, had treated me as though I was no stranger to her—just another member of her household to be kept in order.
She told me: "Small wonder Kit got the part. People come to see her, not the play. That's how it is, Sarah. You'll learn. Scandal of a sort. The girl who left a lord for the stage. See what I mean?"
"How do they know?"
"The Lord have mercy on you! Sarah, you're a babe in arms in this world of ours. They know everything that goes on every minute of the day, these people. They live in the big city, do they not? They're alive to it all. They would tell you whom the King slept with last night if you asked them."
"I would not dream of asking any such thing!" I said in horror, which made her laugh.
"You'll soon be just like the rest of us, dearie. It will not take much time, I'll swear. The fact is that Kitty got the part because Charles Hart knew that she would bring them in. And she has. rU swear to you that half the people in the theater tonight have come to see Kitty, the girl who gave up a lord for the stage."
I realized she was right, as she always was.
During those first weeks, Maggie, having taken me under her wing, gave special attention to me. She was a woman to make quick decisions and she had taken a liking to me. This was how it must have been with Kitty. But she considered that my youth and innocence needed special care. I did not realize then how fortunate I was in this.
She introduced me to London. She took me shopping with her and I was able to listen to her bargaining with the stall-holders. She was expert at making a bargain and at the heart of this was a certain bantering belligerence.
"Never let people get the better of you," she advised. "Go in and fight them. But never go into battle if you think you are going to lose. That's no good. You'll falter and fail at the next one you undertake."
It was indeed like a battle, and I never saw her beaten, yet she always parted with her opponents on the best of terms. They clearly had a great respect for her.
She talked to me a great deal about the theater. She loved it, but she had the sense to know that she would never have been a great actress.
"I hadn't the figure nor the face for it," she said sadly. "It's no good having what is necessary in parts. You've got to have it all. Mind you, all actresses don't have to be beautiful. Some are so good at the game that they can make you think they are. Well, I'd never have been good enough for that and time was against me. I lived at the wrong time. All that down on your knees every few minutes, reminding yourself how humble you are ... miserable sinner and so on ... never daring to laugh, for that was something that was going to send you straight to Hell when your time came. I was in my prime when the Puritans closed the theaters and all that was going on, and that was not the life for me.
"Then the King came back, God bless him. But why in the name of all that is holy did he not come back ten years before ... or better still, never go at all? That would have suited Mistress Maggie Mead very well, that would. But alas, the good times came too late for her."
One day Kitty came home from the theater and said: "The King is coming to the theater on Friday. Many from the court will be there. The Queen will be coming with him, they say, so it will be a really formal occasion."
"To see you!" cried Maggie.
"No. They are putting on The Humorous Lieutenant for him— a special performance. There's no part for me in that."
"That Beaumont and Fletcher piece!" said Maggie in disgust. "They could have chosen something better."
"The play will be of small account. The theater will be full to overflowing."
She exchanged glances with Maggie and they both looked at me.
"Then we should add to the overflow," said Maggie. "What think you? It will be an opportunity for our girl to see His Majesty."
"Do you really mean that we shall be there?" I gasped.
"You could scarcely see him if you were not," retorted Maggie.
"So you want to go, do you?" Kitty asked me.
"Of course she wants to go," Maggie said. "And if she didn't Fd make sure she went all the same."
We were all laughing, and Kitty asked Maggie if she remembered the occasion when they had seen the newly married Queen in the King's Theatre with the King, and Lady Castlemaine had been there, scowling at the royal pair all the time.
"It was something I shall not forget in a hurry," said Maggie. "Everyone was waiting for trouble to start. Lady Castlemaine was capable of anything, and she was furious that the King should pay more attention to the Queen than to herself ... even though it was only done for form. And the poor little Queen did not know anything about it. That was before she discovered her ladyship's position in the royal household."
They went on recalling little incidents from that occasion, and laughing immoderately at what seemed to me far from a laughing matter ... especially for the Queen.
It was something I shall always remember: my first glimpse of the King and Queen. Excitement was great in the theater that night. It was full. I sat tightly wedged between Maggie and Kitty. We had come early to make sure of our seats, and I was glad of that when I heard the angry shouting from outside from those who had been unable to get in.