"I might guess," Feltheryn responded as he applied his lip rouge with a tiny brush of camel's hair.
"You know," she babbled on, "everyone has told me, again and again, that I must stay away from that shabby little house down on the White Foal, but something inside me, some instinct, said to me that anyone who grew such lovely flowers-you've seen them, haven't you, the black roses?-must be a very nice person indeed! Well, after visiting three homes where they clearly had plenty of money but no taste, and getting not a single contribution, I decided to follow my instincts!"
Feltheryn stopped working on his makeup and sat stock-still, his brush not moving at all. He knew full well who lived in the house on the White Foal River. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise.
"Naturally enough," she continued, "I was not so foolish as to attempt to violate the wards on the iron gate. People don't put up wards for nothing, you know. Instead I went up and sniffed the roses. They have a lovely fragrance. That was sufficient to get the attention of the lady of the house without giving her the feeling that I was being pushy, or violating her privacy. When I neither left nor tried to pluck the blooms, her curiosity was whetted and she came out on the porch. I waved hello and complimented her on her roses and asked if there were anyplace I might purchase similar plants. She smiled at that, with just a touch of contempt I think, but I didn't let it bother me. I told her how much they reminded me of the ones we have to make out of paper when we do Rokalli's Daughter, and that of course let her know that I was with the theater. -Would you help me with the corset, dearest?-Well, the gate swung open and she invited me in for tea! That is one of the nicer things about being in the theater, don't you think, Feltheryn? Almost anyone is glad to receive a player into their home, perhaps out of the sense of celebrity. Except of course that time in Sofreldo when the whole town censured the baron and baroness for inviting a mere actress to breakfast; but then, that was a frontier town, after all. Well, anyway, you cannot imagine how delighted I was to see the inside other house. Feltheryn, it was like being back home again. It was a gorgeous riot of color! Silks, satins, velvets, everything strewn about with the gayest, wildest abandon! I showed her my knitting, and I think she was very pleased. And I gave her a little bag of one of my tisanes, you know, the ones I take along as a gift for people who contribute more than their share to the theater? The poor dear, she seems so shy, really. I don't imagine she has many women friends. She's exceptionally beautiful, and you know how that makes many women jealous. I have suffered enough from that myself, all these years. There now, I think I'm ready!"
Feltheryn swallowed hard.
"Did she then make a contribution?" he asked, opening the door of the dressing room and offering a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for the safe return of his lady.
"Well, no," said Glisselrand sheepishly: a very unusual mode of response for her. "She said that at the moment she had nothing suitable in the house. And ... Well, I hope that you won't be too upset with me, Lamby, but, well, I ... I told her I would leave her name with Lempchin out front, so that she could come to see a show for free. Her name is Ischade, and I am sure that when things look up for her, financially, we'll see her" in the audience all the time."
And as if the previous week's ordeals weren't enough, the morning after Glisselrand gave Ischade a free pass to the theater, Lempchin brought home a dog, a scruffy little bitch with a disturbing gleam in her eye and a glittering nimbus of something about her that made Feltheryn loath to say no when the boy proffered the usual tale of having been followed, and could he keep her?
"If you can teach her tricks!" the master player said. "And if you name her Beneficence,"
"Master Feltheryn," said Lempchin, with a worried but reasonable look on his pudgy face, "you can't go out and call a dog: *Here, Beneficence!'Everyone will laugh, and besides, it won't carry!"
"You are right," said Feltheryn. "But when I was a boy, before I became an actor, I had a dog named Beneficence and we called her Benny, which will carry quite well, don't you think?"
"Oh, yes. Master Feltheryn, yes! Thank you!" cried Lempchin.
The small dog looked up at Feltheryn with an expression of scandalized horror, and for a moment he thought she understood exactly what he was saying. She backed away and let a low growl escape her lips.
"I am afraid it is that, Benny, or find another home," said Feltheryn firmly.
The dog hesitated, as if she would do jus! that rather than answer to her new name; but at that moment Molin Torchholder entered the back of the theater and headed down the center aisle, and that seemed to change everything. She looked at Molin, looked back at Feltheryn, did three neat back flips in the air, then disappeared into the scenery before Molin got to the stage.
"A born actress," Feltheryn said, and rumpled Lempchin's hair before turning his attention to his patron.
"I have heard," Molin said, without preamble and with embarrassment, "that Rosanda will be attending the theater. Could you keep me advised of the nights you expect her, so that I can absent myself?"
ACT TWO
As if by divine edict (and in Sanctuary, it seemed the only way that it could happen) things began to go well. Vomistritus's broadsides stayed up, but his poisonous commentary failed to cut too deeply into the theater's receipts. Those who took the critic at face value and stayed away were balanced by those who were intrigued by his acerbic pen into coming to see what could possibly be so bad.
Lalo delivered final sketches for The Chambermaid's Wedding and they proved to be his most inspired designs to date. The flowery pergola for the wedding scene was of surpassing loveliness, and construction of the costumes and properties was begun with much enthusiasm by all concerned.
Lady Sashana proved not only beautiful and enthusiastic, but an apt pupil as well. Glisselrand actually blushed when the disguised Schoolgirl sang her the serenade, and that was no small tribute from an actress who had played the part more than fifty times.
As for Myrtis: she was pleased to contribute the talents of some of her younger protegees to the production, and the girls themselves were pleased and delighted (and amused) to be playing the Chambermaid's virgin bridesmaids.
"The only problem," Myrtis commented, "is that song in which they sing about being pure and chaste. Some of their customers may be in the audience, and if the poor men laugh, their wives will figure it out!"
Lempchin discovered that his new dog could leam any trick with the greatest of ease. It was not long before he had persuaded Glisselrand to sew a fluffy collar for the mutt, and not much more time before Benny had got a role in the show, doing tricks for the Countess in the wedding scene.
Master Chollandar stopped by the theater to deliver some glue and related how Vomistritus had demanded half the enormous payment for exclusive rights to the solvent returned on the basis of the one unauthorized use in freeing Rosanda, Rounsnouf, and Lempchin.
"I argued with him," said Chollandar, "but in the end I figured I would have to give him what he wanted. And that's not so bad, because it was really a lot of money that he paid. But I made him print, on each broadside, that the glue was dangerous and might not be removable. And I told him that if he didn't print the message on the poster, I would not be responsible for the consequences."
"Did he accept that?" asked Feltheryn.
"Oh, yes," said Chollandar. "I think he enjoys the idea of spreading something dangerous around Sanctuary. It makes him feel sinister, maybe."
Near the closing of The Falling Star a small purse appeared on the table in the greenroom, directly after the performance. Although Lempchin did not remember admitting her, a note within the purse identified the gold it contained as a "small" gift from Ischade; and Glisselrand commented that she was happy the dear shy woman had not only fallen upon better times, but, it seemed from the size of the gift, now reveled in them.