The Masked Heart - By Karla Darcy Page 0,47

"I do always feel there is something missing. I am not sure what exactly."

"Passion," Drew interjected. "The man has majesty but one never gets the sense of a living, breathing character beneath the role."

"How very interesting, Lord Farrington," Blaine said, surprised at Drew's perception. "Yet with it all, he remains a very popular actor."

"Not so much since the riots at the Covent Garden five years ago," interjected Edward Baxter, another one of Fleur's flirts.

"Riots?" Fleur squealed, half in fear, half in excitement.

"Let me tell you, my dear," Reggie took up the story. "It was after the fire and the opening of the New Covent Garden. The man was close to ruin and only a loan from the Duke of Northumberland allowed him to rebuild. He hoped to recoup his losses by raising the prices of the private boxes but where he made his mistake was raising the price in the pit by sixpence."

"That is not so very much," Fleur said artlessly.

"My dear child, the pit is a sacred arena and the English are not ones to take umbrage lightly," Edward said, eager to get back in the limelight. "I was privileged to be present on opening night. The bill was Macbeth followed by a musical farce called the Quaker. From the moment Kemble set foot on the stage, pandemonium broke out. The audience had handbells, clappers and other noisemakers. I myself had come armed with a watchman's rattle."

"Oh, how exciting. Don't you wish you'd been there to see such a thing?" Fleur said to the listeners in general who dutifully murmured a similar thought.

Blaine said little as she remembered all too well sitting with a tearful Sarah Siddons as the woman told her of the appalling behavior of the audience. There were placards calling for a return of the Old Prices and the members of the pit began to chant "O.P" until the whole house had taken it up.

"Kemble showed himself a true thespian," Reggie picked up the threads of the tale, earning himself a black look from Edward. "He and the other actors continued with the play even though the lines they recited were practically inaudible. Every night was the same. Sometimes Bow Street runners would be called in to eject the worst of the ringleaders but still at every performance there was a hubbub. Finally after sixty days Kemble restored the old prices to the pit although he kept the new price for the boxes."

"It all sounds quite exciting, but I feel rather sorry for the actors," Fleur said in a soft voice.

"Bravo, child," Blaine said, wanting to hug her sister for her kind heart. "I cannot condone such rudeness. It has always surprised me that such a rough element is permitted to take over in a situation such as this."

"Truly, Lady Yates," Reggie said. "You cannot imagine the sort of manners that hold sway in the upper galleries. I have seen gentlemen hang coats and even waistcoats over the galleries and sit in their"- he lowered his voice in horror - "in their shirtsleeves."

"I'll admit in some theatres, the audience can be an unruly lot," Drew said. He smiled at Lady Yates whose mouth was pinched in a thin line of disapproval. "I have seen those in the upper galleries dropping orange peelings on the heads of those in the pit. Naturally the pit responds by throwing things into the boxes. For the most part, it is all in good fun. Only occasionally does it get out of hand."

"Common courtesy, would dictate more respect for the actors on stage." Blaine spoke briskly, annoyed that the group should find such behavior acceptable.

"Sometimes those on stage are so dreadful, it is a service to the audience to interrupt them." Reggie broke into laughter at his joke and the others smiled in agreement.

"If the players are talented, the audience is usually well behaved," Drew said. "I was recently at a performance which was astounding. It was a small provincial troupe but their lead player was quite above the ordinary. His name is Edmund Kean and I found his acting totally electrifying. Mark you well his name as I feel he has the talent to quite put Kemble in the shade."

Blaine had seen Kean act and she too had felt overwhelmed at his performance. She leaned forward eagerly, anxious to hear Drew's critique of the man. "I believe I have heard of the man, Lord Farrington. Short, odious person I was told."

"That may be, Lady Yates," Drew answered gravely. "But as