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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ba7833 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55744 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55744) diff --git a/old/55744-0.txt b/old/55744-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0a0f4b6..0000000 --- a/old/55744-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6152 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Exclusives, Vol I., by Charlotte Campbell Bury - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Exclusives, Vol I. - -Author: Charlotte Campbell Bury - -Release Date: October 13, 2017 [EBook #55744] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EXCLUSIVES, VOL I. *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Whitehead and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE - EXCLUSIVES. - - VOL. I. - - - - - THE - EXCLUSIVES. - - IN THREE VOLUMES. - - VOL. I. - - SECOND EDITION. - - LONDON: - HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY, - NEW BURLINGTON STREET. - - 1830. - - - - - LONDON: - - Printed by J. L. Cox, Great Queen Street, - Lincoln's-Inn Fields. - - - - -THE EXCLUSIVES. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE BOUDOIR. - - -The boudoir of a woman of fashion exhibits in its history, if -faithfully recorded, a picture of the manners, modes, and morals of the -times; and, however little such things in themselves might deserve to -be handed down, or registered as objects of imitation, yet to chronicle -them for the day would not be without its use. The sensible part of -mankind would laugh at the follies, and wonder at the extravagance, -which the page of such ephemeral history unfolded; while the actors in -the scene might possibly view in the mirror held up to them their own -lives, and their own actions, in a new and truer light. - -Lady Tilney's boudoir,--the boudoir _par excellence_,--was not in fact -a boudoir, according to the old legitimate meaning of the word. Indeed, -Lady Tilney herself, the presiding deity of the sanctuary, professed -her contempt of legitimacy in boudoirs, as well as in sovereigns; at -least she did so in words, though, like many other professors, her -words and actions frequently contradicted each other; and it may be -questioned if there are any greater despots, than those who inveigh -most against despotism. - -But to return from this digression to the boudoir. Lady Tilney's -boudoir was destined to the reception of far other votaries than -those of the old _rabattu_ god of love. No: her boudoir was visited -by persons of a very different character from those who were formerly -the frequenters of such a scene. Authors, poets, political intriguers, -artists, and committees for the management of the state of society, -formed the chief personages among those who figured there, and their -business was of a very different complexion from that of the supposed -use, or original meaning ascribed to a boudoir. - -In the former, of old, the painted harpsichord, the huge cabinet, the -gigantic chimney-piece, the tapestried wall, were suited to the silken -garb, and bag and sword, that formed the attire of the male part of -its visitants; as well as to the hoop and fly-cap of the ladies who -presided there. In this modern temple of idolatry, only a few of -the ancient decorations were allowed a place, such as the marquetry -cabinet, the _or-moulu_ clock, or vase of China; but for the rest, what -a change! - -Volumes of worth, and works of merit and deep learning, were now -covered by the novels of the day, or hidden by trivial elegancies newly -imported from Paris; while on the walls, the rare productions of Titian -or Vandyck were intermingled with some chalky portrait of the modern -school, tricked out in the millinery geer of the fashion of the day. -Scattered on the tables, however, there was a redeeming feature in the -character of the decorative objects which met the eye, for there lay -some richly chased gold ornaments, the works of Benvenuto Cellini, or -some one not less skilful, though it may be of forgotten name; and -while these ornamented the apartment, they served the double purpose of -affording Lady Tilney an opportunity, not only to discourse on their -beauty, but to enter into all the particulars of Cellini's strange life. - -Add to this description of the boudoir and its visitants, the -occasional presence of Lady Tilney's beautiful children, and its -portraiture is closed; but not so the genius and history of all the -transactions, councils, and cabals which took place there. These will -be best understood, by passing from the boudoir to Lady Tilney's own -character and pursuits; if to describe these by any means were indeed -possible: but it would be an endless, hopeless task, to enumerate all -that Lady Tilney did, or fancied _she did_--still more what she said; -for to do her justice, her's was no vapid existence of the mere routine -of a London lady's life. - -No--indolence was not the besetting sin, insipidity was not the vice -of her _morale_ or her _physique_. But as to enumerating severally the -subjects which employed her care, and the various branches of these -subjects into which she diverged, that indeed would be difficult. Her -life and occupations may, perhaps, be best delineated by representing -them as one vast bazar of interests, all equally claiming her -attention--"the court, the camp, the senate, and the field:" certainly -the field of Newmarket, where it is said she regulated her husband's -calculations and interests with great success. - -These objects, and many more than these, which, as the charlatans say -at the end of their lists, are too tedious to mention, filled up the -life of this laborious and distinguished lady. Nor were her labours -less onerous in managing the government of the society of _ton_. Her -rule was there despotic--her word was law;--and if some few persons -pretended to step aside, not following the fashionable multitude in -bowing the knee to Baal, or ventured to think for themselves in the -circle in which she moved, immediately, as though by an enchanter's -wand, they were banished thence, and some more amalgamating spirit -was chosen to fill up the vacancy. There was a kind of air-gun fired, -which was sure to hit the mark, without betraying the hand that drew -the trigger: a sort of _lettre-de-cachet_, as effectual as those -promulgated in the times of Louis le Grand, which consigned to oblivion -the offending persons, while the victims themselves could not fathom -any cause or assign any particular reason for the sentence. - -Nevertheless, in the very midst of this ruling and reigning, this -despotic sway in the court of _ton_, a secret dissatisfaction existed -in the breast of Lady Tilney. She, indeed, was one of those haughty -liberals who affect to despise kings and courts; not because they -dislike those necessary evils, as they call them, but because they are -themselves, or would be if they could, the greatest of all sovereigns. - -Notwithstanding, therefore, the high ground of rank and situation -on which she stood, it rankled at her heart to have offended her -sovereign, and to feel herself an object of just dislike to him; for, -however great the magnanimity shewn to her on the occasion of her -offence, still to be aware that, under circumstances, she could no -longer be considered a favourite at court, was in itself a source of -the deepest mortification. Impressed with this consciousness, what was -to be done? Why, render all courts the subject of flippant raillery; -vote them and their sovereigns old-fashioned bores; erect herself into -a queen, and have a court of her own. In truth, this plan agreed better -with her self-love than any other; because sovereigns and courts, in as -far as regards the outward decorum of forms, regulate and keep society -in its proper course; whereas, under the sham dynasty of _ton_, caprice -bears rule, and tyranny in its worst sense marks the conduct of those -who sit on its ephemeral throne. - -Connected with this system, the pride of ancestry too was necessarily -another subject of ridicule with Lady Tilney, who thought that those -who, on such grounds, pretended to take any lead in the world of -fashion, had much better retire to their castles, and there indulge in -dreams of their greatness. - -Nor did Lady Tilney's thirst for power end with her effort for -universal dominion in matters of _ton_--she had another ambition, -that of leading and controlling the political party to which she had -attached herself. Here, however, her sway was more imaginary than real; -and often the long-headed politician, or crafty diplomate, as they -listened with apparent complacency to her advice, allowed her words -to fall unheeded on their ear, or laughed at her in secret. With the -young and uninformed aspirants in the career of political life, Lady -Tilney had, perhaps, more success; and many a rising scion of a noble -house has been known to adopt, under the influence of her smiles, and -from a foolish vanity of being noticed by her, a line of conduct quite -at variance with the wishes of their parents, and to the sacrifice of -their own best interests. - -In this grasp at power, however successfully achieved, Lady Tilney felt -herself ill at ease--her mind was continually harassed by reflections -on the tottering and uncertain tenure of _ton_, and the possibility, -nay, probability, of some younger, newer person, climbing to the -envied seat which she then possessed. The fear of a certain Duchess -of Hermanton was constantly before her imagination, as the embodied -object of her alarm; and she considered it as a measure little short -of self-preservation, to secure her influence, if possible, on a still -firmer basis, by some decided act, or the invention of some fresh -folly. As to Almack's, that circle of exclusiveness had been polluted; -its brief course was run, and its brightness on the decline. - -The more Lady Tilney reflected on the subject, the more she became -convinced of the expediency of her intentions; and determined, -therefore, to mature her plan immediately. Having despatched her notes -to the Comtesse Leinsengen, Lady Tenderden, and Lady Ellersby, she -commanded that no one should be admitted to her presence but themselves. - -"Yet stay, Destouches," she added to the page, as she issued her -orders; "Prince Luttermanne by all means, should he call." And then, -having given audience to three cooks, four painters, two authors, an -authoress, and several milliners, she finished with advice to a poet -and a critique upon his work. - -Lady Tilney, before the arrival of the personages she had written to -(for Lady Tilney knew the value of intervals), arranged her list of -engagements; tossing some into the fire--with the velocity of one well -practised in the weight, measure, and value of names; and examining -others of more importance. She determined to mar all that might -interfere with her own views in society.--"Mrs. Annesly, truly what -a griffin! and the Countess of Delamere, and Lady Melcombe!--but the -Marchioness of Borrowdale! that indeed requires attention." Lady Tilney -rang the bell--Destouches appeared in a minute--the peculiar hasty -touch of call was known to the well-appointed page. "Send Arquimbeaud -here!" and the distinguished Arquimbeaud soon obeyed the summons. "I -have determined to have a party, Arquimbeaud, next Thursday; see that -cards are issued for that day, according to this list." - -As he withdrew, Comtesse Leinsengen was announced. The immense bonnet -and deep veil--the splendid cashmere and still long petticoats -(although they were generally worn very much shortened), afforded a -favourable costume to the lady who now advanced; certain defects were -thus concealed, and imagination might lend that delicacy of slimness -and form to the feet and ancles which pervaded the rest of the person, -but which did not characterize those of the Comtesse. - -The rapid volubility of the one lady, and the sharp short sentences -of the other, began the conference. Lady Tilney placed the most -luxurious of all the luxurious chairs close to the fire, pushed -forward the screen, and with the eagerness of apparent friendship, -seemed to wish to make her visitor quite at home: or, as she expressed -it, "deliciously comfortable." "You have learned that word now, -dear Comtesse,--indeed you have adopted it; and there is no one who -understands the thing so perfectly as yourself." - -Midst all these courtesies and courtings the Comtesse observed a -sort of abstracted air, though they were (and so far Lady Tilney was -sincere) things of course. - -"My dear Comtesse, I am so glad we have a minute alone, to discuss -our plans. I have many things of consequence to say to you; but before -I begin I must speak to you of that horrible affair of poor Lady -Mailing's; it is quite impossible to support her any longer, for you -are aware her secret is publicly known. So long as she was prudent, -and observed appearances, it was all very well; but _now_ it will -be impossible for me to receive her. You know I never did receive -any body who placed themselves in a similar situation--not even my -own relations; my character has always been _intacte_, and I cannot -_compromète_ myself, though I am very sorry for poor Lady Mailing; -and had she only avoided this _esclandre_, and managed her affair -prudently, I would have stood by her to the end; but as it is--" - -"Oh, certainly not," interrupted the Comtesse; "you must be conscious -that every one knows Lady Tilney's high reputation, and it would never -be supposed dat you would countenance a belle passion; vraiment, quand -on est tellement dupe as to sacrifice sa position dans le monde, to a -man's vanity, or to be playing de sentimentale at forty, it is quite -enough to make one sick, and she well deserves to be vat you call -blown. _Mais, de grâce_, do not let us prose more about her--_vat -sinifies?_" - -"Oh, very true, and then there are other matters of so much greater -consequence to consider. Do you really think that this administration -will hold--you who are in all the secrets?--positively you must tell -me. I am sure if that man (lowering her voice to a whisper) is at the -head of affairs, all must go wrong--poor England! what will become of -you? But we will never allow that--shall we?" - -"Oh! trève de politiques, ma chere, si vous m'aimez; it is a subject -quite marital, and therefore, you know, not at all in my way. What I -want to revolutionize, or rather to reform, is your state of society." - -"Precisely, my dear Comtesse, it is the very subject on which I wished -to talk to you, when I wrote requesting to see you--you received my -note, did you not?" - -"Oh, yes; but it is an affair on which we hold such very different -opinions. My maxim is, se bien amuser d'après sa propre volonté--that -is what I want to do; and to tell you the truth, I am ennuyé à la mort -in your London world--every thing is so stupid here! Vat signify dat -tiresome Almack, after all? It was good enough at first, when it put -people in a passion, et pendant que se faisoit fureur; but now that, -somehow or oder, you liberales admitted every petite demoiselle vid her -red elbows, and vulgar mama to take care of her, it has lost all its -character, and I positively intend to withdraw my name. Besides, de -lady patronesses cannot even maintain a seat at de top of de room--de -oder night I find Lady Melcombe and her daughter perch up in my seat; -and though I walked over them and stared them down, dey positively took -no hint, but sat still so comfortably vulgar it was quite provoking. -No, no, my dear, Almack's day is finish and de thing must fall--so -never stay by a falling friend; when a person or a ting begins to -totter, leave it." - -"Very true," rejoined Lady Tilney; "there is much truth in what you -advise (and she looked very grave). But then, you know, my dear -Comtesse, you must consider the independence of our constitution--which -makes it very difficult--" - -"Not to have a stupid society.--Agreed." - -"But the great number of our nobility," rejoined Lady Tilney, "and the -weight and consequence of a still greater number of influential members -in the other house"---- - -"Renders all your pretences of a société choisie mere pretence." - -"Pardon me, Comtesse, you have yourself owned that my parties are -select; and you yourself, although in a public situation, contrive -to leave out those who do not suit your purpose. After all, what can -tend more to the preservation of society?--than such impertinence" was -on Lady Tilney's tongue; but she checked herself, and added with a -little cough that gave time for reflexion: "What can tend more to the -maintenance of a société distinguée than the exercise of this choice, -made without reference to the rank or situation of the parties, but -merely dependent on the voice of the few who are formed to lead?" - -"Very true," rejoined the Comtesse Leinsengen, "and if that system -was properly upheld, it is the only chance of not being _obsédé_ by -vulgars;--but you do not act upon it sufficiently. As to myself, I can -no long bear de whole ting; my health does not permit of your late -hours, and I generally go away when your company are beginning to -arrive. And then these great routs of your Duchess D'Hermantons and -your Ladi Borrowdales and Aveling, sont à dormir de bout." - -"Agreed, my dear Comtesse, I do so agree with you; it is the very -matter I am longing to discuss with you. Do let us settle something -amongst ourselves, that shall rid us of all these evils, and establish -a _société à part_. I must tell you what I have already done to effect -this purpose. You know that odious Lady Borrowdale has one of her -everlasting At Homes next Thursday, to meet their Royal Highnesses the ----- as usual, that vulgar decoy; so I have therefore countermanded my -former invitations, and issued my cards for that very day--Nobody will -go there, will they?" - -"Perhaps not many; and if some do, there are plenty left." - -"Yes," said Lady Tilney, with ill-concealed anxiety, "but you know the -royalties always do accept her invitations." - -"What matters dat--you do not care for royalties." For an instant -Lady Tilney's command of language was checked--she almost betrayed her -vexation, when fortunately the name of Lady Ellersby was announced, -whose dawdling drawl, as she entered the apartment, smoothed over the -asperities which began to mark the conversation, and which might have -rendered it in the end a little too _piquante_. - -"My dear Lady Ellersby," said Lady Tilney, "how charmed I am to -see you. I was dying to meet you, to consult you, to enjoy your -entertaining society." The Comtesse Leinsengen smiled significantly, as -she said, "And so was I." - -"Consult me! La--well, that is something quite new--nobody ever -consulted me; but pray explain what you mean." - -"Oh! we want to establish some regulations by which our society shall -be distinguished, and which shall save us from the inroads of all these -people whom we are constantly meeting, and obliged to be civil to, -whether we will or no--in short, something that shall make us, as we -ought to be--a _race à part_." - -"I thought," Lady Ellersby replied, "we always were that."--"To -be sure we were; but then, my dear, you know abuses will creep in, -and all constitutions require from time to time to be strengthened -or reformed, according to circumstances; and you know, my dear Lady -Ellersby, that we have all of us long since lamented that Almack's, -which was excellent in its way, has now, from the infringement on -its privileges, become quite corrupted from its original design, and -something positively must be done, or we shall be overwhelmed _en -masse_--something to stem this torrent, this inroad of Goths and -Vandals." - -"Dear me, that sounds very alarming--you quite frighten me; I don' t -understand you--pray tell me what it is you propose." - -"Why," answered Lady Tilney, "we wish to form a society entirely -to ourselves, which shall be quite exclusive--a society for which -we shall settle _d'avance_ every particular and qualification of -the persons who may be admitted to it. Thus you see (turning to the -Comtesse Leinsengen), my dear Comtesse, we shall never do any thing -but in concert with each other, and never invite any one but those who -entirely suit us. You understand me now, don't you?" addressing Lady -Ellersby. - -"Oh dear, yes! I think I do." - -"No, no, you do not understand her. Permettez--in one word I will -explain vat Lady Tilney mean to say: voici le mot de l'énigme--you are -all English, and though you do your _possible_ you cannot help being -English. You are all afraid in dis country to do vat you like best; and -though Lady Tilney propose to ask only de chosen few, you will none of -you do so in reality, take my word for dat. You talk freedom, but act -in chains. Now we, au contraire, _chez nous_--we women I mean--do de -freedom, and never tink of de chain at all; but whenever you ladies -make your lists for your parties for instance; den comes--dis is not -politic, _toder_ is not right,--dis is not my husband's pleasure; some -scarecrow or anoder is always driving you off de land of amusement. Now -you say you will open your doors only to those you like, and you are -right--dere is no oder secret for to make pleasant society; but you -will _not_ do it nevertheless, ladies, for you are all de cowards." - -"Indeed, my dear Comtesse," rejoined Lady Tilney, "you will find -that we _shall_, though--and I think effectually; although there are -certain principles in our constitution which extend to the ruling even -of private life--and these the wives of certain nobles cannot wholly -overlook." Comtesse Leinsengen shrugged her shoulders. - -"Ah, dear, it is as I thought, you are de woman I like best in dis -country; but you are all over shackle, up to de ear in de _qu'en dira -t'on_! De plebe ought to be made of de noble's opinion, not de noble -constrained to dat of de vulgar." - -"That may do very well with you," rejoined Lady Tilney, "but with us -as an unqualified maxim it will never do. I grant, Comtesse, all that -you say can be done in one's own house, where one makes one's own laws -and rules in one's own way: so far it is only asserting one's own right -to liberty, and as far as we can persuade people to be of the same way -of thinking it is all right. But I have too much liberty in my heart to -desire to tyrannize as you suggest; and, in fine, confess myself too -much of an Englishwoman to wish to see your system prevailing amongst -us." - -Lady Tilney said this in a tone of English pride, which proved that she -had not forgotten all that was best worth remembering, although it was -in contradiction to the spirit of what had fallen from her a moment -before. - -Lady Tilney, however, dealt largely in contradiction at all times. The -Countess Ellersby smiled; the Comtesse Leinsengen again shrugged her -shoulders, drew her shawl around her, and was preparing to depart, -saying, "Well! mes chères dames, I leave you to the enjoyment of your -liberty, and have done." - -"But I have not done," said Lady Tilney; "I am determined we shall -have a society that shall be quite our own, and yet not subversive of -principles we must uphold. (Another shrug of the shoulders.) Allow me -to say, that if you, Comtesse, and you, my dear Lady Ellersby, will -but second me, I am sure we shall not fail, and I know I may reckon on -Prince Luttermanne co-operating with us;--so far so good." - -"And Princesse Luttermanne?" inquired Lady Ellersby. - -"Oh, for the prince's sake we must have her," replied the Comtesse -Leinsengen, "D'ailleurs, _dans ma position_, it could not be -oderwise--in all cases we must pass over des inconveniens--besides she -is good-humoured, and has _her own fry to fish_, and will not trouble -us much." - -Lady Ellersby and Lady Tilney looked at each other, and laughed. "And -then," observed Lady Tilney, "we have Princesse de la Grange, and -Mrs. Kirchoffer; we must enrol them on our list (although they are -sufficiently insipid), because they can be useful, and dare not act -but in subserviency to _us_. But, Lady Boileau, what shall we do with -her? She indeed has a will of her own, and she has a mother very much -_de trop_, whom however she treats cavalierly enough (of which, by the -way, I do not approve); but, notwithstanding, I think we must have her, -though we can by no means be troubled with the mama." - -"Certainment pas," cried the Comtesse, "for the Irish mama with her -vulgar repartee would give a mauvaise tournure to de whole society." - -"There you are right; and while we admit the daughter, remember, it -is only on sufferance, just on the same footing as we admit Mrs. -Kirchoffer, and as I propose that we should also do Lady de Chere and -Lady Hamlet Vernon, and----" - -"Mais, que faire de la jeune lady," interrupted the Comtesse, "qui -parmi un certain set is a good deal de vogue, Ladi--Ladi,--vat you name -her?" - -"What, Lady Baskerville?" asked Lady Tilney; and then replied, "Oh -she must be one of us, to be sure, for I think we can make use of -her--she only longs to be in the fashion, and her husband also. Flatter -their vanity, and you do with them what you chuse; make them believe -they are of the _ton_, and you have them at command." - -"Well, den, now you have named all de ladies I suppose, and dere is but -one cavalier; do you mean us to be a convent, and have no gentlemen?" - -"By no means, my dear Comtesse; of course there will be all our -husbands." Here the Comtesse Leinsengen had recourse to her usual -expressive gesture of contempt. "And then," proceeded Lady Tilney, -"there is the Duke of Mercington, Lord Raynham, Lord Tonnerre, Leslie -Winyard, and Frank Ombre,--Spencer Newcombe,--and we must not forget -Lord Glenmore; though I wish he were more decided in his political -creed. Besides we cannot omit Lord Albert D'Esterre, whom we must -have on probation, for he is young and only just returned from the -Continent; but they say he is very clever, and I think may in time -become one of us. But, ere we decide further on the gentlemen, we must -consult Prince Luttermanne." - -"Ah! bon chere ladi" (with a nod of approval). "Quite so," added Lady -Ellersby, languidly; "for, though he is called good-humoured, he can -be as cross as is necessary. I never saw any body _walk over people_ -better than he does." - -Lady Tilney, who had been for the last minute or two busily employed -with her pen setting down the names which she had just mentioned, -interrupted Lady Ellersby, saying, "By the bye, there is one rule very -necessary to be observed, which I am sure we shall all agree in; that -is, to admit no unmarried ladies, unless something very particular -indeed should make us waive our resolve. When I say this, I do not, -of course, mean to _balls_; but I mean to those coteries which will -in fact constitute the élite of our society. And then I propose that -we none of us go to the old-established dullifications; but, on their -nights, each one of us must in turn take care to chuse that same -evening for our coteries." - -"Dat vill do very well for de Lady Borrowdale, and de Lady Aveling, -and dat old Marchioness--vat you call her--Feuille morte; but La -Duchesse D'Hermanton, vat vill you do vid her? it is not so easy to -_take dat lionne par la barbe_." - -"Oh," rejoined Lady Tilney, for this was a name she feared to offend, -"the Duchess is not one of us, it is true; but we need only walk once -a year through her apartments; and we can bear that--besides, she is -a sort of person" (apart)--and Lady Tilney broke off abruptly from a -subject, in itself always disagreeable to her. - -"And now," she went on to say, "having formed the outline of our plan, -we have only to follow it up, and I am sure it will be successful. I -wonder Prince Luttermanne and Lady Tenderden are not come, for I wrote -to them both; and I should have liked that we talked the matter over -altogether. However, I cannot doubt but they will agree with us in our -arrangements; and if you, dear Comtesse, and you Lady Ellersby, will -see Princesse de la Grange and Mrs. Kirchoffer, and Lady Baskerville, -I will take care to speak to the other parties. Of course I shall see -Prince Luttermanne some time or other this day, and Lady Tenderden, -for they must have received my notes; and I will settle with him about -our gentlemen." Then addressing the Comtesse, she added, "I need not, -I am sure, remind you, who are so discreet, that the success of every -thing which is to produce éclat depends upon the secret combination of -the movements; and therefore, in speaking to the different parties, -pray impress on their minds the absolute necessity of privacy, and -not to let our designs be known beforehand by a premature publication -of them, but rather let them be developed by their effect; and when -their existence will have been confirmed beyond the possibility of -counteraction." - -"Assurement laissez moi faire."--And here Lady Ellersby, looking at -her watch, started from her chair, saying, "Dear me! I had no notion -it was so late. I had an appointment with my Lord, and it is past the -time. Bless me! what shall I do?" Then making her adieu, with more -vivacity than was her custom, she departed in greater haste than she -was ever known to do before. - -"Who _is her_ Milord just now?" asked Comtesse Leinsengen. - -"Oh fie! malicieuse," replied Lady Tilney. - -"Is it again dat little consequential personage who looks like a -perdrix santé aux truffes? I fancy I saw something like a réchauffé -getting up between them de oder night at Lady De Chere's." - -"Now really, my dear Comtesse, I must defend my friend. People are -always so ill-natured--one must have some cavalier, you know, to walk -about with in public--and scandal always ascribes evil where none -exists. No, no; Lady Ellersby has too charming a husband for this to -gain credit for a moment." The Comtesse's usual shrug implied comme -vous voulez, and she added, "it is truly extraordinary how any body can -call dat ladi handsome, vid her drawn mouth and peevish expression!" - -"Surely she has a sweet smile?"--"When it is not a bitter one," -rejoined the Comtesse; "but what _sinifies_? she does very well for -what she is good for. Now I must go, and you must be de active agent in -settling our Lady Parliament; as for me, I will have a sinecure post." - -"You are quite delightful, Comtesse, and ought to have every thing -your own way; so good bye, if you _must_ go. I will remember to see -Prince Luttermanne; I will not let the matter rest--adieu," and they -kissed each other's cheeks on both sides, "adieu!"--"You will not -let de matter rest--no, I am sure you will not--nor any oder ting -or person," thought the Comtesse, as she glided out of the room. -"How frightfully red her nose is become," observed Lady Tilney, -soliloquizing, as she looked at her own smooth cream-coloured skin in -the glass. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -CHARACTERISTICS. - - -Of Lady Tilney's character a hasty outline has been attempted in the -preceding chapter; falling short, however, as it is confessed every -attempt must do, to delineate all its varied features. Something, -however, may have been gathered, by viewing her in the midst of the -group assembled in her boudoir; and the portraiture will be rendered -still more distinct, as the character of her associates are further -developed. - -Of Lady Tilney herself it may be said, that that real or pretended -contempt of rank which she affected to entertain, arose from the -circumstances of her own parentage, which, on her mother's side -at least, was not noble; to the same cause, also, may perhaps be -attributed her anxious irritability, ill concealed under a forced -gaiety, lest the respect and homage which she considered to be her -due, should not be paid her. There was a restlessness in her assumed -tranquillity, wholly unlike the easy natural languor of her friend Lady -Ellersby, to which she would gladly have attained, and which it was -always the object of her ambition to imitate; but she never reached -that perfectibility of _insouciance_, which marks a superiority of -birth and station. - -Notwithstanding the part which she consequently was obliged to play, -there was still a good deal of nature in her composition; much more -than in that of the person whose demeanour she envied;--and had not her -character been influenced by a life of dissipation, she seemed designed -to have passed through existence diffusing usefulness and cheerfulness -around her. Much might be said in extenuation of Lady Tilney's faults -and follies, courted and caressed as she was; as indeed there is -ever much indulgence to be extended to all who, in situations of -power and of temptation (however many their foibles) remain free from -positive vice. The voice of censure should be guarded therefore in its -condemnation; remembering that the inability to do wrong, or the want -of allurement to yield to it, are often the sole preservatives against -similar errors. - -In commenting upon such characters as Lady Tilney's, it is not for the -purpose therefore of attaching blame to the defects of the individual, -so much as to point out the dangers attendant on their peculiar -stations, and to shew how far even noble natures are liable to be -debased by constant exposure to a baneful influence. Were not this the -object of a writer, idle and contemptible indeed would be the pen, -which could waste its powers in tracing the vanities and follies of a -race which always has existed in some shape or other, and possibly will -always continue to do so. - -There is an indulgence of spleen, a silly gossiping espionage, which -delights in prying into the faults of others, without any motive but -that of the gratification of its own mean nature--but there is an -investigation into the habits and manners of the actors in the scene -of fashionable folly, which, by dispelling the illusion, may preserve -others from being heedlessly drawn into the vortex of so dangerous -a career. A sermon would not, could not, descend from its sacred -dignity, to effect this--a philosophical or moral discourse, would have -as little chance of working such an end;--but a narrative of actual -occurrences may perhaps give warning of a peril, which is the greater -because it bears outwardly, and on a cursory view, no appearance of -future evil; for to the young, and indeed to all, there is a charm, -and a very great charm too, in being something superior, something -that others are not, or cannot be. No one acquainted with human -nature will ever contradict this. The question of vital importance -to be asked is--In what ought this distinction to consist? and what -will really give it? Certainly _not_ a life of dissipation, in which -the affectation of new modes and manners constitute the business of -existence; certainly _not_ the sacrifice of moral and religious duty, -to a courting of frivolous homage and the pursuit of an empty _éclat_. - -These, however, it is to be feared, are more generally the spurious -objects of ambition with persons in fashionable life, than the solid -advantages, and lasting fame, which their situations afford them the -means of securing. And if it is thus with the world of fashion in -general, how much more was it the case in the circle in which Lady -Tilney reigned! Herself and her friends had no thought that tended to -any specific moral purpose, in the strict sense of the word. The duties -that were performed, were such only in a negative sense; they went to -church, they lived with their husbands; some of them, but not all, had -escaped scandal; they were fond mothers, at least in the eye of _their_ -world; they were alive to their offsprings' interests, at least their -worldly interests; and beyond this, it is to be feared, neither for -them, or for themselves, did their views extend. - -Here may be closed the catalogue of their moral possessions. Of their -outward shew of manner and courtesy, where so much in a _soi-disant_ -empire of ton might be expected, perhaps, there was still less to -praise: a _brusquerie_ of address took place of polished breeding, -where intimacy permitted any address at all; and where none was -allowable, an insolent carelessness marked the behaviour, instead of -that polite courtesy which is ever the distinguishing mark of really -good manners. - -Lady Tilney, had she not stood on the 'vantage ground of _ton_, might -have been called vulgar: the loud and incessant talking, the abrupt and -supercilious glance and motion, had it not been backed by title and an -assumed superiority, would have been designated by a very different -name from that under which her manners passed current; and even as -it was, they sometimes received a reproof which, however affectedly -scorned, was deeply felt. An instance of this occurred on the occasion -of her receiving the homage of a distinguished foreigner; when, in the -intoxication of the moment's vanity, Lady Tilney forgot the respect -due to one of exalted station, rudely turning her back, and brushing -past him in the dance, a disregard of etiquette which he whose manners -are all elegance and condescension, would never in his station have -shewn to the meanest of his subjects, and whose sense of delicacy and -propriety is so acute, that wherever female manners are concerned, none -could better know how to condemn whatever derogated in the slightest -degree from them. - -It was to the displeasure incurred by this circumstance, and to the -loss of favour which all who have ever lived in its sunshine cannot -fail to lament when withdrawn, that allusion was made, in speaking of -Lady Tilney's contempt of sovereigns and courts. Here was to be found -one bad effect of a system which, while false in every sense, arrogated -to itself perfection in all. - -There was no immorality to rebuke in this instance of Lady Tilney's -conduct; but it proceeded from a source, which if not in her, in others -at least, might be productive of serious consequences; namely, from a -contempt of established rules and received opinions; and if, in the -midst of this arrogance there was a redeeming spirit of occasional -kindness,--a smile which took the heart captive for the moment, and -gave promise of better things,--it only caused a regret that the good -which was there should be thus choaked by the noxious weeds of vanity. - -Some of Lady Tilney's companions in _ton_ had not, like her, escaped -the breath of slander; one or more were supposed to have listened, -at least, to that corruptive voice of gallantry, which withers the -bloom and freshness of a married woman's reputation; whose error is -remembered long after its cause has passed away--let it have been real -or imaginary;--in either case the effect on a woman's character is -the same. It is in vain that in a certain sphere there exists a tacit -agreement to pass by, and gloss over such defamatory tales; the persons -coming under their degrading mark have a seal set upon them, which, -in spite of themselves, and maugre the usage of _their_ world, is -nevertheless destructive of peace; and it requires little penetration -to see beneath the forced smiles which are put on with the adornments -of the toilette, the gnawing worm that preys upon the heart. - -The fatal effects of such errors attach only to those guilty of -them; the feeling inspired for their situation would be one of pure -commiseration; but, alas! the influence of example is contagious, -and whatever is felt for the individual who thus errs, the sentence -of condemnation must go forth against the crime. In regard to the -other members who formed Lady Tilney's intimate circle, the Countess -Tenderden, Princesse de la Grange, Lady de Chere, and Lady Boileau, -for instance, there was equal matter for remark, varying with the -character of each. The first of these, possessing nothing decided in -her composition, had been, from the commencement, a follower in the -track of others, and it was owing to this laziness of disposition that -she became the ready and obedient slave of fashionable command, as well -as from her early initiation into the secrets of _ton_, rather than -from any other cause, that she held the place she did in Lady Tilney's -estimation. - -Lady Tenderden's unsatisfactory and frivolous existence had thus -been passed without any decided plan, except that of being generally -impertinent, and of courting personal admiration; which, when it is -paid to beauty alone, ceases with the first cessation of youth: the -consciousness of which fact added no genuine sweetness to the smile of -Lady Tenderden; but left her, although in the possession of most of the -outward circumstances which could grace existence, with a fading person -and a dissatisfied mind. - -Princesse de la Grange was a star in the midst of this false galaxy -of _ton_, in as much as a strict regard to married duty, and a -preservation of moral and religious principle, gave to her character -a superior brightness; but whether from the taint of the poisonous -air she breathed, or from a defect of strength of mind, or from the -situation she filled, or from all these circumstances combined, the -Princesse de la Grange did not escape entirely the pollution of folly, -and she too delighted in the vanity of being exclusive. - -In the love of being distinguished above her compeers, Lady de Chere, -however, far excelled; attaining a perfection which her exceedingly -clever and powerful understanding, together with the management of her -conduct, and an appearance of general decorum, enabled her to preserve. -Nor were her moral qualities alone conducive to her success: she had -besides the advantage of being able to set her face like a flint -(which indeed it resembled physically), and she deemed all emotion or -all expression of natural feeling (even that of bodily kind) to be a -weakness unworthy of a woman of fashion. Lady de Chere was once known -on an occasion of personal suffering, when a few tears actually escaped -her, to have exclaimed to her attendant: "You are the first person in -the world who have ever seen me guilty of such weakness." Nay, she even -carried this perfection of induration so far, as to boast of having cut -her own mother. - -In this last instance of the perfectibility of _ton_, Lady Boileau -yielded not the palm--she had remained a good many more years than she -had bargained for, unmarried--she had studied under a mother, whose -lessons eventually were but too well rewarded in kind. This mother, -however, had loved _her_; and with much and unremitting labour, had -effected for her an alliance of title--of wealth. What more could -either of them with their views desire? - -Lady Marchmont had established her daughter greatly, and the daughter -had accepted the marriage upon certain calculations: such as being -her own mistress, independent of her husband, or her mother; who knew -too well _de quel bois elle se chauffoit_, for Lady Boileau to like -her surveillance. Lady Boileau had then made no scruple of swearing -to love, honour, and obey him whom she loved _not_, held _cheap_, and -determined to _resist_. But these words, and too many more, bear a -totally different signification, it is well known, in the language of -_ton_, from what they do in their common acceptation. - -One of the first steps of Lady Boileau after her marriage, was to -gain admission into the circle of Lady Tilney on a footing of intimacy; -for although she had been on visiting terms with her, yet she was aware -that the mere interchange of cards did not constitute her the friend -or protégé of Lady Tilney, to which distinction she aspired. There -were one or two circumstances, however, which rendered the attainment -of this object rather difficult. In the first place, Lady Boileau had -a mother whom it would require more decided measures to detach from -her than, as it has been seen, Lady Tilney chose to countenance. The -general tenour of her conduct, too, was a thing yet unproved, and -it was, therefore, still unascertained how far she might be true to -their _esprit du corps_, and be worthy of admission into this circle. -Lady Boileau was considered, notwithstanding these impediments, to -be a person of promise, and she was accordingly admitted, with the -tacit understanding, however, that she was not to push Lady Marchmont -indiscreetly on the scene; where her wit and plain speaking might break -forth in corruscations too potent for the _tendre demi-jour_, or rather -darkness, in which the proceedings of the _ton par excellence_ were -invariably to be veiled. - -There was, however, one person whose name has not yet figured in the -catalogue, but whose character of mixed good and evil, would require -a powerful pencil to delineate; for the many amalgamating tints which -united and harmonised its opposing lights and shades were any thing -but an easy task to give--divested of these, the portrait would become -caricature. How often does marriage, especially in early life, give a -colour to the future conduct of women. Had Lady Hamlet Vernon married -differently, she was possessed of qualities which would have rendered -her estimable as well as amiable; and was mistress of talents which, -if properly directed and matured, would have rendered her a being -distinguished above her sex. But this was not so; she had married for -situation, and soon found the burthen she had imposed upon herself far -outweighed the advantages she had contemplated in the step she had -taken. Unhappiness was the first natural result; and in the absence of -religious principle, young, beauteous, and fascinating, she soon found -in the universal admiration paid her, a delusive balm to alleviate -the society of a husband considerably older than herself, and who had -married her from the pride of calling a person so admired his own. -Under these circumstances, Lady Hamlet Vernon could not remain without -the stigma of slander attaching to her. - -The early demise, however, of Lord Hamlet Vernon liberated her from -the hazard of her situation, and at five-and-twenty she found herself -again free. Titled, and with great wealth at her command, she was -too clever for the empty votaries of folly, but too clever also to -be entirely set aside by them. She was, at the same time, too much -_sujetté à caution_ to be admitted on terms of unguarded intimacy -amongst those in her own sphere who were observers of religious and -moral conduct, and who happily form the aggregate of distinguished -society in England. Left without choice, therefore, as to who should -be her associates, Lady Hamlet Vernon was drawn into a society where -the errors of her early conduct were, by the contagion of example, sure -to be confirmed, and the remainder of any good principles that she -might have possessed, in danger of being subverted; for it was not the -least evil arising out of the system of the society alluded to, that -the persons composing it were under a compact of exclusion of all who -differed from them in habit and opinions; and, thus deprived of the -power of comparison, their own conduct wanted that useful touchstone of -its rectitude. - -We are all alive to impressions daily made upon us; and if a life of -carelessness and dissipation is not to be checked by an occasional -example of what is truly excellent and worthy in character, the moral -perception between right and wrong of its mistaken votaries will soon -be blunted, till at last both their ears and eyes are closed to all -remonstrance. The riper in years, therefore, were sure to have their -false estimate of life confirmed; _they_ could not return on their -steps, even if they wished it; while the young and the inconsiderate -were taught to believe, that those who had so long followed in that -destructive but glittering career, were the only objects worthy of -imitation, and in their turn became hardened actors in the scene. -Although the characters hitherto produced as slaves to this system -have been of the weaker sex alone, still let it not be imagined that -they were its only victims, or that they alone played their part in -upholding it. - -If possible, the men of the society were many of them as frivolous, and -more vicious; and, though here and there might be found a character -that, from family connection or ignorance of the tendency of the -society, mingled in its contamination without infection, or making a -wreck of principle, yet, far from these solitary instances detracting -from the general truth of what has been said, it will be found that -such persons, the moment they became aware of the lurking evil, broke -from it abruptly; though perhaps, saving themselves with difficulty -from the entanglement. - -In the members, however, which swelled the list of the male part -of this circle, few indeed were there who ever made an effort to -withdraw from it. Vice and folly, in manners and in dress--male -coquetry--ineffable impertinence--ignorance--detraction of virtue -which might have resisted, or talents which eclipsed them--insipidity -in mind, and effeminacy in person--devotion to luxury,--these, and -more than these, if such could be catalogued, of the immoralities -and follies of man, were all to be found here, in degree and kind, -revolving in their different orbits--and fulfilling their allotted -parts in the system, till their existence closed. What though wit -might sometimes play around their board, or the quick repartee enliven -the monotonous circle of the evening--what though talent might be -allowed, for a brief season, to expatiate on higher topics, and the -deep discourse of great human learning might be suffered to dwell at -intervals on subjects more intellectual--yet what profited this to -those who listened or to those who spoke?--The moment's amusement, the -indulgence of mere curiosity, the establishing of some political tenet -or philosophical dogma, were alone the objects looked to. Talents, when -found in this society, were in fact directed to none but _worldly_ -views; and the feeling which should have guided their possessors to -acknowledge the bounty of the Author who bestowed them, and a faithful -employment of his gifts, was not only wanting, but the sacred religion -of that very Author was too frequently made an exercise for them--a -subject of their scorn or cavil. - -Though untitled, yet of noble family, there was one, who figured -first as most licentious and unprincipled among the devotees of _ton_. -He was handsome, winning, specious; but he concealed under this -attractive exterior a heart of the blackest dye; no sense of right or -wrong checked its impulses. All to him was lawful that was attainable. -Pleasure was his object; and he had sailed down the short voyage of -his life unchecked by any of those reverses, unscared by any of those -feelings of shame or compunction, which would have operated on a weaker -mind; and if, for a moment, some enormity of conduct made the more -timid--they could not be called the more virtuous--of his associates -recoil, the hardened face, the laugh of carelessness, the ready excuse, -soon dissipated these transient feelings of shame; and patronized, -courted, upheld, in that true _esprit de corps_ which bound each member -of the society to protect the other, his youthful career had been run -from excess to excess. - -Although a person whose weight and influence in themselves were not -great, yet he formed from his habits and opinions, and the talents -which (though perverted) he really possessed, one of those ties in -a fabric, which being multiplied, keep the whole body compact; and, -having once obtained a footing in Lady Tilney's circle, it followed, -as a matter of course, that he should be employed in that remodelling -of her society, which it has been seen Lady Tilney was so anxious -to effect, and his name therefore was not forgotten in the list, -concerning which she intended to consult Prince Luttermanne. - -It is well for human nature, that many characters such as have been -just described are not often found; it certainly had no compeer in the -circle in which it moved. And though the folly of dress--the waste of -time--the uselessness of life--indulgence in the excess of luxury, are -errors and faults that cannot be too strongly held up to animadversion, -yet they are, by comparison, of a venial kind. Their effects, however, -ultimately do not prove such; for degradation of intellect must -follow a course of indolence, and an obtuseness of conscience must -be the consequence of long-neglected duties. Let it not be supposed, -therefore, that because Lord Boileau, Lord Baskerville, Lord Marchmont, -or Lord Tonnerre, were younger and less matured in a vicious course -than another, that therefore their conduct was less deserving of moral -censure--the seed that is sown in spring time will grow up to the -harvest, and it must be reaped accordingly. The pursuits of a careless -life of pleasure, the gaming-table, the society of opera dancers, the -intrigues of _ton_, are not preparations for the maintenance of family -consequence and wealth, still less for the fulfilment of the duties of -married life, the protection of a wife's conduct, or the education of -their offspring. Yet these, it is to be feared, were the sole objects -of Lord Boileau, of his companions, and of many others. - -Besides these, however, there were characters intended to be included -in Lady Tilney's arrangements of a far different complexion, and the -very reverse of their inexistence--there were noble politicians, whose -lives were passed in any thing but inactivity; there were titled wits, -whose places were any thing but sinecures; poets, whose lays found -frequent subjects in the galaxy of beauty that surrounded them; and -painters, whose talents and winning flatteries constituted their patent -of nobility. The admission of all the latter personages was a decided -evidence of Lady Tilney's supremacy; for, with few exceptions, she -alone considered that to be surrounded by talents was essential to high -station, since with the generality of her coterie, the idea of mingling -intellect in their pleasures, was rather to destroy than heighten them. - -Lady Tilney, however, in the end prevailed, and no society of _ton_ -was in future considered complete without those appendages. But even -Lady Tilney's command of the suffrage of talents was not always -absolute; and once, it is said, a man of holy profession, whose -celebrity in his calling had led the London world in crowds to be his -auditors, though thrice bidden to the shrine of fashion, declined, with -steady consistency, to form one of a circle whose conduct in life it -was his duty to reprove. - -It is not to be supposed that the list of cavaliers is yet full with -the names of the persons just alluded to; there were many others too -insignificant to bear designation--and enough of portraits. Catalogues -of these can only be interesting to a few curious collectors, and are -very unsatisfactory to the generality of persons. It is living with the -actors on the shifting scene, which can alone, for any length of time, -engage the attention, or be productive of any just understanding of the -character. To note down their actions as they occur, and to develope -the system by which their lives are regulated, will be the easiest, as -well as the most profitable task; for although there may be something -which at first appears unnatural, and scarcely to be recognised as -truth, in the idea that there exists a regular and defined system in -lives, which at a hasty glance seem spent in the careless manner of -the persons represented, nevertheless it is so--and there is a depth -in their folly, which requires to be sounded,--there is a mischief -in their apparent carelessness, which it is wise to detect--there is -a principle of latent evil under this seeming incipiency of conduct, -which requires to be unfolded, and shewn in its true colours. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -AN OLD-FASHIONED ASSEMBLY. - - -Although the outlines of Lady Tilney's project had been generally -settled, yet some of its details were still wanting; and in the -interval, she determined on one of those movements in the game, which a -crafty adversary sometimes makes to cover an ultimate and deeper end. -The Marchioness of Feuillemerte held one of her assemblies, and as it -was admissible to appear in such a circle once at least during the -season, _sans se compromettre_, Lady Tilney devoted herself for that -evening to the unpalatable task, and engaged Lady Ellersby to meet her. - -After casting a glance of inquiry round the room, "My dear," said she, -"did you ever in your life see such an heterogeneous multitude (she -loved long, hard words) as are assembled here?" - -"No, except here"--"Figures," continued Lady Tilney, "_renouvellés des -Grecs_--creatures dug out of Herculaneum, only not so elegant; all -George the Third's court I believe; and then such a tiresome eternity -of royalty, persons who never die, and whom Lady Feuillemerte, and Lady -Borrowdale have preserved, together with themselves, in spirits, I -believe, to exhibit on their great nights." - -"Yes," rejoined Mr. Frank Ombre, who had been permitted to overhear -the whisper, and smiling with one of those doubtful expressions which -might do for tragic or for comic effect, "we do not want royalty -now to keep us in order,--that is quite an obsolete idea. No, we -have more enlarged views; we like to turn every thing, _sans dessus -dessous_--don't we Lady Tilney? I am sure I had rather bow to the -sceptre of your beauty, than to that of any prince or princess--and you -know I never flatter." At that moment a royal personage entered the -assembly, when Lady Tilney, under pretence of going away, hurried to -the door, saying, "oh, do let me avoid this _seccatura_." - -"Do, Mr. Spencer Newcombe," addressing this privileged friend of her -own circle who stood near her, "do call my carriage,"--in the meanwhile -placing herself in a situation that made it impossible, without -rudeness, for the person whose approach she would have appeared to -shun, to pass her by unregarded; a behaviour which, however consistent -with Lady Tilney's ill breeding, when she wished to shew dislike, was -never known to attach to any of the family who were the objects of her -pretended contempt. - -Lady Tilney did not, on the present occasion, make her arrangements -in vain, and was not only spoken to, but held so long in conversation -by the royal person who entered, that she had the satisfaction of -hearing her carriage repeatedly announced, till every individual of -the assembly must have been aware of the cause of her delay. The dense -crowd, however, which now encircled the prince, seemed to oppress -Lady Tilney, and affecting to be almost overcome by the pressure,--a -pressure which in fact she was herself causing, by obstinately keeping -her place, and not allowing the conversation to drop--she was at length -gratified by an offer of the arm of royalty to lead her to a seat, on -which she sank affectedly, while the prince took that next to her. In -one of the pauses of conversation which ensued, Mr. Ombre chanced to -find himself exactly at the back of Lady Tilney's chair, and she took -an opportunity of whispering to him, "how tiresome!" He shrugged his -shoulders, and replied in her ear, "I pity you from the bottom of my -heart," (adding aside to Spencer Newcombe), "As I do every one who -always succeeds in every thing they wish." - -Shortly after, the prince rose to depart to speak to others, while -Lady Tilney having made good her right to royal attention, now prepared -to express her contumely of every thing regal, and to resume the -exercise of her own right to absolute power in her own person. - -"Do, Mr. Ombre, sit down and let me have a _little_ real conversation -with you, for I am sick of all the _fadaises_ which have just passed." -"What a fortunate man," he rejoined, "shall I be, if I have only a -_little_ conversation with Lady Tilney!--you know I never flatter,--and -besides that distinction, a seat,"--dropping carelessly into the one -that was vacant. - -But Lady Tilney did not read these words otherwise than in the sense -to which they were agreeable to her, and immediately her hitherto -repressed eloquence broke forth. - -"Have you read the Male Coquet? Do tell me, is it not exquisite? Among -all the trash heaped upon people of fashion, this alone is well done. -It must be confessed that, in spite of its severity, the whole is well -drawn, and though highly coloured, not a daub." - -"Yes, I have read it, and I like it; but the world don't." - -"No! well I cannot conceive why--perhaps you can tell me.--Not like -it! indeed you surprise me! Why, it has already gone through three -editions." - -"Yes, in the advertisements! but they say the publisher is ruined, -nevertheless." - -"Well! that is quite extraordinary! I thought all the world approved -it." - -"The world!--the world, my dear Lady Tilney, is a very ill-natured -world, though you have never found it so; but you will some day." - -"Oh, do not imagine," cried Lady Tilney, a little displeased at her -supposed want of discernment, "do not suppose that I am not quite aware -of the world's ill-nature--only--" - -"Only you are bound, my dear friend, to suppose it otherwise, since, in -its opinion of you, it does indeed make an exception." - -"You know I hate flattery, Mr. Ombre."--"Well, well, I have done; but -in some cases, what appears flattery, is truth. Besides, I never _do -flatter_." - -"Come, come," said Lady Tilney, "never mind! let us return to the Male -Coquet, I have not half done talking about it. What do you think of -the character of Lord Algernon, is it not delightful, is it not quite -perfect?--And for that very reason, quite detestable." - -"My dear lady, I never knew but one perfect person in the world whom I -could bear; do you guess who I mean?" - -"Dear me, are you still here?" said Lady Ellersby, approaching at the -moment. - -"Yes--you know when those royalties _will_ talk to one, -it is impossible to get away."--"Ah, true--and it is so -fatiguing."--"Royalties--dose royalties, and you mind _dem_?" said the -Comtesse Leinsengen, who had caught Lady Tilney's words as she passed, -leaning on the arm of the Minister for Foreign Affairs. - -"My dear Lady Tilney, I wonder to see _you_ here--but you always do de -reverse of what you talk, you know--I tell your so." - -Lady Tilney was embarrassed, and looked around for an escape from -the conversation. She saw the half-formed sentence preparing by Lord -Rainham; which, however, she knew must undergo the necessary process -of preorganization and arrangement before it was addressed to her. -Luckily the Comtesse Leinsengen pressed forward before this could take -place, and Lady Tilney, to avoid any more sarcasm on her inconsistency, -willingly allowed for once the witty Lord to pass without a word. Mr. -Ombre, who was still by her side, and had lost nothing of the scene, -gave his word of consolation to Lady Tilney, as he remarked: - -"How appropriate to the situation which he fills;--the ready orator, -the decided projector of measures and expedients,--how truly great a -minister! You know, Lady Tilney, I never flatter. I really think so." -Lady Tilney had no wish to continue the subject, and turning to Lady -Ellersby, remarked, - -"Did you ever see such jewels as the Duchess of Hermanton's? How -vulgar to wear them in such quantities; she is like a walking -chandelier. But, look, there is Lord Arlingford; he is coming this -way--I want to speak to him, and if you move a step or two forward, I -shall be able to do so." Lord Arlingford was accordingly arrested on -his passage, for he had not intended to converse with Lady Tilney, but -was looking on towards a group of persons, in the midst of whom stood -the Duchess of Hermanton. "Well, Lord Arlingford, how surprised I am to -see _you_ here; are you not bored to death?" - -"Why, Lady Tilney," he asked, in return, "should you be surprised to -see me in an assembly to which half London is invited?" - -"That is precisely the reason," she replied, "I should have thought you -never went to these sort of things; they are very tiresome, and I am -sure you must be dreadfully annoyed." - -Lord Arlingford was not an apt _élève_ of Lady Tilney's, although his -high rank and connexions had made her sedulously endeavour to direct -his education in the world of _ton_ from his very first _début_. - -"Pardon me, not in the least _ennuyé_. I do not come often enough, or -remain long enough in these places, to be sickened by the shew--and -_as_ a shew, it is a very splendid one, and I like to see so much -beauty as is here to-night gather together." - -"Fewer at a time," said Lady Tilney, "would be more agreeable, I should -think." - -"Perhaps so, for habitual private society; but then that is quite -another affair: all things are good in their way, and in their proper -season and measure." Lady Tilney was mortified at this very rational -distinction of the indocile Lord, but went on to say, "At least you -will allow that a circle more _choisie_ is preferable--and one comes -to this sort of mob only as a kind of disagreeable duty."--"Duty! that -is quite a new idea of duty to me--but I am happy to be taught by so -fair an instructress." As he spoke, Lord Arlingford's grave countenance -(for it was a countenance of gravity for so young a man) relaxed into -something like vivacity; and Lady Tilney, profiting by the momentary -gleam of expression, requested him to assist her through the crowd, in -order that she might speak to the Duchess of Hermanton. - -"You will come, will you not, Lady Ellersby?" turning her head over -her shoulder as she spoke. - -"No (for at this moment the Duke of Mercington was coming towards her), -I have already seen the Duchess." Lady Tilney would then have lingered, -glad to have exchanged the arm on which she leant for that of the man -of still higher rank; but the Duke only making her the acknowledgment -of a familiar nod, offered his arm to Lady Ellersby, and as her friend -walked away in a contrary direction, Lady Tilney, mortified, bit her -lip, and was obliged to proceed. - -The crowd in the door-way soon stopped her progress, and turning to her -companion, she observed, - -"I wonder how many private couriers Lady Borrowdale keeps in pay, to -bring over the newest fashions from Paris. Have you seen her to-night? -did you ever behold any thing like the magnificence of her gown?"--"I -think," replied Lord Arlingford, "that she is a very fine-looking -person, and in her youth must have been perfectly beautiful; but I did -not observe her gown." The subject seemed to inspire Lord Arlingford, -who broke through the usual briefness of his sentences as he continued, -"And her manner, I think, is excellent; there is so much dignity in it, -united with so much courtesy; and she is never, I am told, capricious, -or forgetful of good-breeding." - -"Why, my dear Lord Arlingford, this is an oration--you are quite -eloquent! But you cannot really like that old-fashioned _manière_ of -curtseying." - -"Indeed I am serious; I like it very much: and if I were to point -out the person whose manners I should like to see any one I loved -adopt, in public at least--for I have not the honour of her intimate -acquaintance--it would be Lady Borrowdale's." - -"How singular you are! Really, if you entertain such opinions as these, -we must expel you from our circle. But if you are determined to be -extraordinary, I suppose you will tell me that you cannot bear any -thing that is younger or more modern." - -"Pardon me; there is Lady Georgina Melcombe, and the Ladies -Fitzmaurice, and their cousins, the Ladies Partington, and many others, -who look as if they were every thing which the young and lovely ought -to be,--unaffected, cheerful, and courteous." - -"Oh, this is worse and worse; you are becoming quite insufferable. But -do tell me who is that person there, whose appearance is so particular, -and who has so extraordinary an air--is he a foreigner?" - -"No--that is Lord Albert D'Esterre. Are you not acquainted with him? He -is a very charming person,--full of talent, and very handsome, as you -see. But I forget--you cannot well recollect him, for he went to the -Continent as a boy, and is only lately returned." - -"True; I remember--I hear he is likely to distinguish himself--pray -present him to me." - -The presentation took place; and, after a few words, including an -invitation to Lord Albert to her _soirées_, Lady Tilney passed on with -Lord Arlingford to where the Duchess of Hermanton was standing. - -To have taken pains thus to seek one whom she affected to despise, -whose manners and right to fashion she was perpetually calling in -question, might argue great inconsistency; but in this instance Lady -Tilney's wishes to be well with the Duchess of Hermanton, far from -being the result of any thing like the contradiction of a settled -principle, were the absolute fruits of it, and were influenced by a -feeling of fear--if she would have confessed it--by an apprehension -that that really amiable person, possessing the envied superiority of -united rank and birth and talent, should assume her proper place in -society, and overthrow the false rule to which Lady Tilney herself laid -claim. It was therefore conciliation rather; and, as she addressed -the Duchess, she put on her sweetest smiles, and laid aside those -indescribable airs which were displayed when she intended to scorn -or crush; and, while uttering those nothings which form the sum and -substance of what is said on such occasions, her manners were almost -servile. The simplicity of unquestioned superiority is one of its -most sure characteristics; and the Duchess of Hermanton's mode of -receiving this homage was unaffected and courteous. But as the two -persons had little similarity in their natures, the conference lasted -only sufficiently long for Lady Tilney to preserve that degree of -familiarity in acquaintance, which she determined should prevent -her being a stranger to one too independent and distinguished to be -altogether passed over. - -Meanwhile, Lord Arlingford having profited by the opportunity to quit -Lady Tilney, now joined Lady Georgina Melcombe and some of the persons -standing together in another part of the room; and Lady Tilney, thus -left alone, had, for a few moments, leisure to behold the splendour of -the apartments and of the persons met in them. In her heart she could -not but acknowledge that whatever London could boast as being most -distinguished was present, and that the good and great predominated; -but it was _not exclusive_--that is, it was an assembly constituted of -almost all those whose rank entitled them to be on the list of Lady -Feuillemerte's visitors. - -It was numerous, therefore, which is the very essence of an assembly; -for what is so insipid as public receptions where the members are few, -the rooms half filled, and the scene unenlivened by those circumstances -which a diversity of ages, characters, and dresses cast around? - -Here all met the society which best accorded with their tastes. -The politician, the courtier, the man of fashion, found here their -associates and their amusement, each in their different sphere, as they -retired from the rest to discuss some present topic of public interest, -or glided through the throng with that easy politeness which breathed -of the atmosphere they inhaled in the presence of their Sovereign, -paying the well-timed compliment as they passed, or displaying -the refinement of wit and repartee in their short and animated -conversations. - -Here, too, amidst the younger and fresher forms, beauties of former -days still shone in the dignity of their manners, and of that air and -carriage which the fashion of their time had rendered a portion of -themselves; which lent a grace to their every movement, and might well -have afforded a school of manners and propriety of outward bearing -for the young who mingled with them--in counteraction of the oblivion -and extermination of all manners, which the prevailing system of the -_soi-disant_ members of _ton_ would have enforced. - -Such, at least, were the external features of an old-fashioned -assembly--in its moral character the advantages were no less. Its -honest and avowed purpose was the interchange of those courtesies -which render life agreeable, and the preservation of those general -guards in society which, as checks to profligacy, are more useful than -abstract theories of ethics, or codes of moral laws. People, unless -lost, sin not so blindly in mixed communities--one individual forms a -restraint on the others--children stand in awe of parents, and these, -in their turn, acknowledge a wholesome control in the presence of -their offspring--the good are a terror to the evil (for an alloy will -ever exist); while the one and the other mutually afford examples of -imitation, or beacons of danger to be avoided, which every individual -may, if there be the will, turn to profit, in the correction of some -temper, the curbing of some excess, the chastening of some wish, or the -abandonment of some folly. - -The more intimate associations in life are not here spoken of; but -these in characters of the same description as Lady Feuillemerte's, -would doubtless be founded on the same basis, and have the same -objects in view; for whether in the cherishing of natural affections, -the formation of those friendships which spring up in the domestic -circle, the cultivation and exercise of talents which give a charm to -existence, or the acquirement of more important attainments, the system -which holds out examples, and affords restraint, will ever be best. - -The "_société choisie_," however, which Lady Tilney desired to form, -was, in its nature, the very reverse of what has been described. Its -exclusive character was to consist, not in the selection of what was -amiable in nobility, or virtuous in talent; it was not to be the circle -drawn within a narrower circumference, for a more perfect enjoyment of -private friendship, or the cultivation of more intellectual pursuits -than the wide range of fashionable life could afford; it was not to be -retirement from the busier throng, for the purposes of a more rational -and purer existence; but it was to consist of those whose follies -in the pursuit of pleasure, and whose weakness in the indulgence of -all the empty toys of life, had given them a distinction above their -fellows; of those who judged immorality, when burnished by the tinsel -of superficial acquirements, as venial error;--of those, in short, -who were either senseless or wicked enough to consider life but a -bubble, to be blown down the current, according to the dictates of -the will, and whose daily existence testified, that they were alike -without a thought or a fear for the morrow's eternity. Such were to be -its members, and its seclusion from the general eye of the world, its -secession from all others but--; its rigid law, that unmarried women -were not eligible to its chosen meetings--for what purpose, and to what -end were these? If for vanity of distinction, merely, it was weak; -if for the purpose of indulging in pursuits and conversation, which -would receive a check in a society less selected for the object--it -was wicked. In whichever point of view, a society so constituted must -be demoralizing, for assuredly it would have the character of being, -if it even were not, really vicious--and its example would have a -contaminating effect in the corruption of morals, and the overthrow of -the barriers of domestic peace. - -It cannot be said that these were the reflections of Lady Tilney, -as she stood for the few moments alone in the crowd at Lady -Feuillemerte's. It would be injustice to her to suppose that they were, -or that she contemplated in the formation of a coterie, according to -her own peculiar prejudices, any of the evils with which the system was -sure to be pregnant. It is thus, however, with all reforms, entered -upon for private ends; the individual sees but the accomplishment -of his own and his immediate associates' views, in what is to be -overturned; and the fatal result accruing to the community, even if -clearly distinguished, are at the moment but as dust in the balance of -self. - -It is more probable that, as Lady Tilney gazed on the mingled group -around her, blind to the demerits of her projected revolution of -society, and proud of influence, which over a certain portion of the -London world she had succeeded in establishing, she became firmer in -her purpose; and as her eye fell on one individual after another, whose -manners, mode of life, dress, or very name were disagreeable to her, -or proved them wanting in the stamp of ideal fashion, the necessity -of the measure she contemplated she conceived became more and more -imperative. Whatever might have been Lady Tilney's reflections, she -was not long suffered to indulge them. In the tide which passed before -her appeared Lord Rainham, unattended however, as previously, by the -Comtesse Leinsengen: Lady Tilney therefore awaited his address, without -any appearance of recurrence to her professed distaste for royalty. - -"A marvel, I declare!" were the opening words of a speech already -polished, _usque ad unguam_, before Lord Rainham ventured to give it -utterance.--"Behold Lady Tilney without a crowd of worshippers at her -feet!--Explain me this phenomenon, and say, have you been cruel to your -slaves, and are they gone themselves, or have they forgotten their -allegiance? Such things have been, though they ought not to be--and yet -methinks you would find it sufficiently dull, if all things were as -they ought to be, would you not? tell me the truth, and give me your -confidence; I have long wished to have the confidence of a handsome -woman, and I promise you _indulgentia plenaria_." - -"No, not for the world!--I hold it to be quite a false maxim to have -any confidants: besides I have nothing to confide." - -"You are too wise to be so handsome," said Lord Rainham abruptly, "and -so good night; for since you will not parley with me, 'tis in vain I -linger;" and as he turned away, words of fresh _impromptu_ on some -other subject began audibly to escape his lips. - -"In your orisons be all my sins remembered," whispered Mr. Ombre as -he passed, and again found himself at Lady Tilney's side. "It is high -time such bookworms as I should retire into our cells; so, lady sweet, -good night.--You know it is not I who speak, but he, who would have -been blest, could he have poured all his sweetest lays into that gentle -ear." Lady Tilney considered the homage of talent as peculiarly her -own, and would gladly have retained the speaker; but gliding with the -gentle undulation of some shadowy form towards the door, he escaped the -infliction of a penalty, which even the syren smiles which were his -reward could hardly at times repay. - -It was now growing late--the assembly was breaking up, and Lady Tilney -looked anxiously for some _cavalier_ to attend her to her carriage: but -this was not a point of easy settlement. In degree he must be either -of rank, or a dependent--one who was her equal, or one on whom she -might confer distinction by her choice of his services. Neither such -requisites, however, were to be found in the group around, and Lady -Tilney, whilst feeling yet more and more the necessity of an exclusive -circle, where such predicaments would be avoided, was doomed still -further mortification in the approach of Colonel Temple, a person whom -she hardly ever considered recognizable, and whose offer of assistance, -made evidently with sarcastic reference to her being alone, came in a -shape particularly offensive to her. - -"Will you allow me to have the honour of calling your carriage," he -said, addressing her with easy familiarity; "or if you are going to -walk through the rooms, allow me to escort you?" (offering his arm). - -"No," said Lady Tilney, in a manner that might have awed any one else; -"I am going away immediately." - -"Well, then, let me call your carriage," he replied, with a tenacity -that nothing could evade--whilst Lady Tilney continued to move on, -terrified lest she should be seen _so_ attended. - -This apparent anxiety to avoid him, was, however, with Colonel Temple, -the surest incitement to a continuance of his proffered attentions. It -might not have been exactly consistent with the general, high breeding -and politeness which distinguished Lady Feuillemerte's assemblies, for -any one to have acted under this influence perhaps; but Col. Temple was -a character known to all the world as such, and privileged to do things -which no one else did. He was a man, too, of family, and felt his -situation in society, in the midst of all his eccentricities. His want -of refinement had its compensation in an honesty of disposition quite -at variance with the measured forms of fashionable exclusiveness, but -which made him generally beloved; while his shrewd sense, mixed with a -certain vein of sarcastic humour, always penetrated the littleness of -vanity, and often inflicted on it its severest wounds. - -Lady Tilney, from repeated slights, was a darling object of his -attacks, and could she without compromise have purchased immunity from -their never-failing and successful arrogance, by an honourable truce, -she would gladly have done so. But Col. Temple was _too_ arrogant, -_too_ presumptuous, to be checked by any defiance of ultra fashion--too -independent, too high-spirited, to suffer a cold and haughty -recognition, in place of the politeness and courtesy due to him as a -gentleman, and thus this warfare had become interminable. - -Enjoying his triumphs in the way in question, he followed Lady Tilney -from room to room--even to the steps of her carriage, assuring her -as they proceeded, that her apprehensions of being detected in his -society were compliments to him beyond price; he was aware that, to be -of importance, the next thing to being liked, was being feared--and -bidding her be sure to send him a card for her next choice _soirée_, he -handed his victim into her carriage, under a thousand half-pronounced -inuendos upon his insufferable vulgarity, and the awful anathema of -future exclusion. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -A MODERN COTERIE. - - -If any circumstance had been wanting to give strength to Lady Tilney's -resolves on the momentous question of social reform, the occurrences -at Lady Feuillemerte's were in themselves sufficient--at least, they -formed an addition to that kind of plausible excuse, sought for on all -occasions where the will is previously set on a particular line of -conduct, but which, without a pretext, it would hardly be safe for the -individual to adopt. - -The motley and unkindred assemblage of the previous evening, with its -royal restraints, its want of organization in its inferior members, and -the consequent offences experienced by those of higher order--for Lady -Tilney, although she did not divulge the stain inflicted by Colonel -Temple's assiduities, yet felt it deeply,--were points she dwelt upon -to her colleagues in the following morning with that extreme pathos and -eloquence which the sufferings of self never fail to produce, and which -could not but enforce on her auditors conviction of the necessity of -the measures she proposed. - -Closeted, therefore, with the leading characters in her own peculiar -circle, the final arrangements for that _société choisie_ which was -to eclipse courts and banish sovereigns, to school rank, and bring to -maturity all the yet unripened follies of a _soi-disant ton_, were at -length concluded. The lists were full--the doors were closed to all but -the secret representatives of the system, and the anathema went forth. -Strange that St. James's did not shake from its foundation, England's -sovereign resign his sceptre, and her lengthened line of nobility -crouch in the dust, under the awful denunciation of such an ascendancy. -But though this were not so--yet must the loyalty of many a high-born -subject, and the purity of many a noble and virtuous mind, have been -outraged, when the results of a system at once so contemptuous and -immoral began to be developed. - -It will be remembered that Lady Tilney had already fixed on the evening -of Lady Borrowdale's assembly as a fitting occasion for the display of -her own undivided rule in the empire of fashion. Her cards had been -issued for that purpose, and these were now followed by injunctions -through various channels, requiring an early attendance--since the two -syrens of the day, Pasta and Sontag, it was whispered, were engaged -to give additional effect to the opening charms of exclusiveness, -and render the blow struck at the existing state of society at once -decisive. - -Lady Borrowdale's apartments, it was decreed, should possess only -the _canaille_ of the fashionable world, and royalty be doomed to -oblivion there, in the surpassing lustre which Lady Tilney's circle -would display. To the authority that called for this ready obedience, -none of the satellites of Lady Tilney's court were ever known to offer -resistance;--and though the chiefs of her party alone knew the real -object of the summons, yet the uninitiated hastened to obey it with the -same alacrity as their superiors, satisfied that in so doing they were -best consulting their views of advancement to the distinction courted -by them, as well as securing a greater license in the indulgence of -those follies and errors which made the sum of their daily occupation. - -To tell of the decoration of the apartments, of the splendour and -luxury which reigned around the mansion of Lady Tilney, to dwell on -externals, would be to repeat descriptions a thousand times given, and -tend to no developement of import. A plant, under the fairest guise of -colour or of form, sometimes contains within its fibres the deadliest -poison; and in the scorching plains of the East, the upas-tree extends -an alluring shade over the exhausted and unconscious traveller, who is -soon to sink beneath its deadly atmosphere. But what would it profit -were the naturalist to dwell only on the pencilling and texture of the -one, or the traveller describe vaguely the outspreading branches and -inviting coolness of the other, and yet neglect to record the noxious -qualities and inherent dangers of each. The plant and its virtues, not -the scene in which it is to be found, must first be recognised and -known, if escape from its contagion be intended;--and it is to the -habits and system of a people, not to the country they inhabit, that we -must look, rightly to understand the manner in which their lives are -passed. - -To a casual observer, Lady Tilney's assembly presented no -distinguishing external marks at variance with received habits or -customs. The rooms were not darkened, the servants passed through the -apartments at intervals in the performance of their respective duties -without constraint: the company, however, was less numerous, and more -scattered and divided into detached parties. The conversation, with -the exception of Lady Tilney herself, was carried on in a low tone, -scarcely audible but to the individual addressed; the different members -of the coterie, when they moved about, seemed to do so under certain -measured and stated paces. - -It was not, however, the step and air of real dignity of fashion, but -rather the mincing _minauderie_ of _des petites maîtresses_. Whatever -was done or spoken (when for a moment some general observation was -hazarded), appeared as if performed by rule, and under apprehension -of drawing down ridicule, which at once went to destroy all natural -grace of speech or demeanour. This sentiment attached more particularly -to the younger and newer noviciates, who felt that an unguarded -expression, or a movement at variance with the prescribed forms of -the circle, would render them the objects of the malicious remarks -and sneers of the more experienced--an uneasy restraint, therefore, -was often the consequence; and had it not been, that to form part -of so chosen a society, and under Lady Tilney's roof, was in itself -an indescribable satisfaction--some who were there might have been -suspected of suffering considerable _ennui_, and of being ready to -admit, by the suppressed and ill-concealed yawn, that although the -honour of exclusiveness was great, the pleasure was certainly small. - -Not so, however, with the more initiated--these appeared by habit to -take the part at once most to their tastes; to select the companion -most agreeable to them; to remain under the eye of observation, or -retire from it, as they chose, with indifference;--for it was not -only in _what_ was done or said, but in the _manner_, also, that the -distinguishing characteristics of this coterie were to be detected. -All things were lawful--but then under outward forms (not however of -propriety always, or of morality), but of convention; and whoever -attained fulfilment of these, had the privilege, the _indulgentia -plenaria_, as proposed by Lord Rainham, to sin with impunity. - -When it was said, therefore, that an assembly composed as the present -differed not in its appearance from others passing under the same -generic name, it was premised to be only under the impression of a -first view;--a more intimate acquaintance with many of its laws and -practices, so opposed to received customs in the world, could not in -the end fail to astonish! And first the observer (the moral observer -is meant) would have been struck by the discovery, that the young and -beautiful in this magic circle were all married women, and that the -person who individually (for the number was rarely more than singular) -paid his assiduous court, leant over the chair, and whispered into the -ear of the fair whom he selected or was selected by, was no aspirant to -her hand in marriage, no relative--neither was he her husband--but a -member of the privileged society, which was alone sufficient. - -His astonishment would have been yet stronger on discovering that for -a season, till mutual convenience, or disagreement dissolved their -familiar acquaintance, each party, similarly paired, invariably met, -conversed, and retired at the same time, when the circle broke up, or -when they quitted it, apparently on the same footing of intimacy which -the most holy ties could have sanctioned; while those whom such a tie -actually bound to them were themselves pursuing a similar career. - -Had the conversation which for the most part occupied this portion of -the _société choisie_ been reported, or reached the ear, it is possible -a considerate mind might have thought, notwithstanding the singularity -of a system which excluded the unmarried from scenes of amusement, that -it was well they formed no portion of it; but still, in an escape from -its early influence, enjoyed the opportunity of attaining to a degree -of moral principle, and feminine decorum, which must otherwise have -been swept away in the general license. - -This, however, can unfortunately be said only of the one sex--the -unmarried in the other, provided their attainments were of the kind -to authorize admission, were not on the excluded list; and the young, -well-principled, and ingenuous perhaps at their outset, might, in the -examples constantly before them, have found incentive to conduct, -which at a future day they would discover to have been the great bane -and poison of their existence.--Of these the person who entered Lady -Tilney's apartments when the coterie had nearly assembled, and who was -new to most of them, offered an instance, for whom the liveliest fears -with justice might have been entertained. - -Young, strikingly handsome, talented, of high rank, of widely extended -interest, and possessing all the means of gratifying every wish, to -what dangers was not Lord Albert D'Esterre exposed, in such a scene as -has been described, and on which he was from that evening to play a -part! He seemed, with the impulse of natural politeness, to look around -for Lady Tilney, as he entered, as if he would pay his first homage to -her, whose self and not her house he visited; in a manner directly the -reverse of that false refinement of modern _ton_, which seeks a display -of its _savoir vivre_, in a pointed indifference to all the received -forms of society. - -Before he had reached the second room he was met by Lady Tilney, with -a greater degree of courtesy and _empressement_ than was usual in her -receptions; and his address was listened to with more complacency and -patience than generally marked her manner towards any one.--"Who is -he?" passed in whispers round the circle amongst those to whom he was -unknown.--"Did you hear his name announced?"--"No! I have seen him -somewhere before, I think--is it not Lord Albert D'Esterre, Lord ----'s -son?" - -"Ah true, it is! but what an extraordinary lengthy speech he is -making--surely Lady Tilney must be ready to expire under its -duration."--"Not under its dulness, I am certain," said Lord Glenmore, -as he caught Lady Baskerville's remark to Lord Rainham, "for, D'Esterre -is too clever ever to say a dull thing." "Or ever do a wise one, -perhaps," added Lord Rainham in his most caustic manner. - -"Did you hear Rainham?" whispered Spencer Newcombe to Ombre; "there was -no time for gestation there--it was really well said."--"Then, if so," -replied his neighbour, "we may 'for once a miracle accept instead of -wit.'" - -"No; I do not allow of miracles now a days," said Lord Rainham, -turning sharply round, having overheard the remark applied to him: "I -do not believe in miracles--not even in the resurrection of the Glacier -man--do you, Ombre?" The laugh was with the latter speaker; but Mr. -Ombre thought that, in fact, miracles had not ceased when Lord Rainham -could thus improvise two good things without incubation; and so he -whispered into the ear of his friend Spencer Newcombe, as Lord Rainham -moved away. - -While Lord Albert D'Esterre was thus affording subject of remark to -the coterie, and their observations in turn made matter of ill-natured -review among themselves, he was addressing his courteous excuse to Lady -Tilney for having disobeyed her commands, in arriving so late. Lady -Baskerville was probably right in her conjecture, that Lady Tilney felt -considerably bored by his doing so, and making reference to injunctions -which she had forgotten the moment they were given, because certain -they would be generally obeyed, and Lady Borrowdale's assembly be left -untenanted by all her early visitors. - -She heard him, however, with smiles and outward complaisance; for Lord -Albert was of consequence enough in a political way, at least, for Lady -Tilney to court; and as she assured him that he was still in good time, -and that the Sontag had not yet sung, presented him to several persons, -whom, she remarked, would be almost strangers to him after so long an -absence from England. - -In all, however, that Lord Albert had said, he had been sincere; and in -his manner towards the different persons he was made known to, there -was a genuine distinguished air of high breeding and politeness, as -much at variance with the manners, as his ingenuousness was with the -minds and dispositions of those who figured in the moral masquerade -before him. Although fresh in this scene, and therefore without -contamination, he was powerful, and, therefore, worth appropriation; -and what was considered _outré_ and too _manière_ in his address, was -partially overlooked at the moment, as certain to give way under the -powerful influence of better examples. - -The Sontag now came forward and poured her liquid notes mellifluous -through the assembly. Every body was in raptures--indiscriminate -raptures;--for though raptures were generally obsolete, there were a -few short seasons for a few new things in which it was permitted to -be rapturous; but woe to the unhappy individual who, ignorant of the -mark, gave way to these ebullitions at unallowed times, or beyond the -peculiar limits prescribed by _ton_. - -When the _aria_ was concluded, however, the remarks among the -younger votaries of fashion were principally directed to the figure -and appearance of the singer, rather than to her performance. Leslie -Winyard admired her foot; Lady Boileau her eyes; Lord Gascoyne saw -indescribable beauty in the delicacy of her waist; and Lord Tonnerre -declared her neck to be as fine drawn and as perfect as that of a -race-horse--a simile which was perhaps the only figure of speech the -latter lord could have hazarded, consistently with his knowledge of any -subject. These by turns approached the singer, and as they addressed -her with an air of familiar condescension, seemed in their ungentle -gaze to seek an opportunity of confirming their previous judgments; -which, according to the result, were signified in the presence of the -persons by a look, or a whisper, to one another. - -If a few ventured an observation on what they had been listening to, it -was in a tone either of indiscriminate praise, founded on some one's -opinion in their own circle from whose decree there was no appeal; -or else, measuring things in themselves admitting not of parallel, -by one another, they drew an unfair comparison between the powers of -Sontag and of Pasta; just in the same way as a pseudo connoisseur would -measure the merits of Paul Veronese or Tintoretto by those of Raphael. - -"I am surprised you waste so much time in this discussion," said Mr. -Ombre, who was standing near the parties debating on the latter point; -"there can be no question as to the merits of the case--Sontag is new." - -"Is she not enchanting?" asked Lady Tilney, addressing Lord Albert -D'Esterre, who had been listening with the utmost attention--"quite -perfection!" He smiled; "I do not know that I ever heard or saw any -thing _quite perfect_; at all events, I prefer Pasta." - -"Well, you surprise me!" replied Lady Baskerville; "there is such -brilliancy--such lightness, such fluency in the Sontag." - -"But there is more depth, more pathos, more poetry in Pasta. -Nevertheless I admire Mademoiselle Sontag; and because I prefer one, I -am not deaf to the powers of another singer--a feeling of the sublime -does not exclude the lesser sense of the beautiful."--"What a prosing, -sententious popinjay; ay!" whispered Lord Baskerville to Lady Ellersby. - -"But he is very handsome," she answered. - -"I know not what you ladies may esteem handsome" (and here Lord -Baskerville put himself in his best possible form, and bent his cane -against the ground); "but I can see nothing in that stiff conceited -face and figure to call handsome; and I would not be doomed to -listen to his affected pretensions for half an hour together on -any condition whatever--no, not to hear Sontag sing three songs -consecutively--beautiful, charming, dear as she is!" - -"Does beauty enter in at the ears?" asked Spencer Newcombe. - -"Not exactly; but it goes a great way towards making what does enter -there agreeable," replied Lord Baskerville. - -"What do you say, Sir Henry D'Aubigne," addressing that celebrated -artist: "is not the Sontag exceedingly lovely?" - -"Indeed I have not yet had an opportunity of judging," was Sir Henry's -discreet reply; for he gave offence to none. "There is considerable -grace and play of countenance certainly; a fine-cut eye; and on the -whole I should say she was a very pretty creature. But really, in this -land of beauty, (looking round him as he spoke), one may be allowed to -be difficult, and where there is so much to dazzle, confess oneself -unable to decide." - -"Sir Henry is almost as graceful in his speech as in his portraits; I -wish I were such a poet!" sighed Mr. Ombre, "and then I might hope to -turn all the ladies' hearts, for they accept your homage, but will not -mine, although I never flatter." - -Thus did the poet and the painter mutually pay their allotted fealties -to the sovereigns of _ton_, when the whisper ran round the room that -the Sontag was again about to sing. - -During the performance, Lord Albert D'Esterre was standing at the back -of Lady Hamlet Vernon's chair, addressing to her, at intervals, his -conversation on the merits of the singer. - -"I am told," said Lady Hamlet Vernon, when the music ceased, "that the -Sontag is very like Lady Adeline Seymour. You will know, Lord Albert -D'Esterre?" Lord Albert coloured. - -"I do not see the least resemblance to my cousin;" and then he -added: "I was not aware that Lady Adeline had the advantage of your -acquaintance." - -"I have not the pleasure of her's neither--I hear she is a most -delightful person!" Lord Albert again coloured, and felt his heart beat -quicker at the mention of a name so dear to him. - -"Is Lady Dunmelraise expected in town this year?" continued Lady Hamlet -Vernon; "I understand she has very bad health. A very intimate friend -of mine, from whom I sometimes receive a letter, Mr. George Foley--you -may perhaps know him--and who is at present staying at Dunmelraise, -informs me that she is far from well." - -Lord Albert D'Esterre found himself irresistibly drawn towards Lady -Hamlet Vernon, by the circumstance of her knowledge of Lady Adeline -Seymour, and they continued for a long while in conversation--till -interrupted by Lord Rainham, who, quitting the circle of the political -characters of the day, with whom he had been in apparently close -discussion, addressed Lady Hamlet Vernon on some other topic, and Lord -Albert turned aside. - -"Tell me what is your real opinion of the person you have been -conversing with?" said Lord Rainham, in a low voice, while his small -quick eye followed Lord Albert; "is he clever? has he talent--tact, or -any other serviceable quality?"--"I hardly know how to answer inquiries -of such depth," answered Lady Hamlet Vernon, smiling; "had you asked me -if he were agreeable, I could have answered yes. But to what do your -questions tend--are they general or particular; or are they political, -or what?" - -"Oh, I mean, is he like other people, like other young men--empty--and -conceited?--or has he wherewithal to make his conversation -endurable--worth listening to--point--repartee--subject--does he talk -of people or of things?" - -"Of both. But shall I add another to your list of inquiries--To what -side of the question does he lean? Does not this sum up all you would -know from me? And what if I should tell you--I know nothing about the -matter?" - -"Psha! well: that may be too--what _do_ you think--?" - -"Why I think him very handsome." - -"Aye, may be so; I dare say he is--but--" - -"But has he avowed his political creed? will he support your favourite -measures, or oppose them? I know that is all you wish me to say," -replied Lady Hamlet Vernon. - -"Why, to be sure, one judges in these days of a man's sense a little -by his politics--one learns whether he thinks at all, or follows his -interests." - -"Oh, you all do that, my dear lord. But come; I will tell you what I -think of Lord Albert D'Esterre: I think he is worth winning--and--" - -"You will try," said Lord Rainham. - -"Fi donc!--now I will tell you no more." And Lady Hamlet Vernon left -the foiled diplomatist to lament the failure of his mission, and learn -to play his part better for the future. - -The evening, or rather the night, was wearing fast away; the Sontag -had sung three times, and those who had formed part of Lady Tilney's -first _soirée choisie_ were soon to be left in possession only of the -recollections--no--not the recollections--the life of the aggregate -assembled there would banish such an exercise of mental powers--but in -possession of the fact, that they had been of the chosen number; that -they _had_ heard the favourite of the hour, _not_ in the too-frequented -Opera, but in the privacy of the drawing-room; and that they alone -could justly, therefore, weigh her merits, and determine her defects. - -In follies such as these a large portion of Lady Tilney's associates -were sure to find gratification on the morrow. And it might have -been well had all contented themselves with these, so comparatively -harmless, although such worthless, fruits of _exclusive ton_; but it -may be feared that, with some, the result of that evening, and the -prospect of others to succeed it of the same kind, held out objects of -a far different complexion, which a sure immunity from censure, and a -complete freedom from obnoxious comparisons, successfully tended to -promote. - -Lord Albert D'Esterre had turned away from a group of young men with -whom he had been conversing, and whose discourse, assuming a tone and -character equally indelicate and revolting to his feelings, he thus -endeavoured to avoid, when he found himself near Lady Boileau. - -"Lord Albert D'Esterre," she said, addressing him, "if you will excuse -an invitation so destitute of form, will you do Lord Boileau and myself -the pleasure of dining with us on Saturday--I will send you a card." -Lord Albert bowed with courtesy, and expressed himself sorry that he -was already engaged, and, after some conversation of little interest, -as Lady Boileau's carriage was announced, she left the room. Leslie -Winyard, with the familiarity of one well acquainted, whispered in Lord -Albert's ear-- - -"You have _échappéd belle_ from that." - -"What do you mean?" asked the latter. - -"Why, I mean that you have escaped a most uncomfortable concern by just -refusing the invitation to the Boileaus." - -"I thought I heard you say to Lady Boileau but now that you would be -delighted to wait upon her." - -"Oh yes, certainly, one _says_ those sort of things; and if nothing -better occurs, one _does_ them;--but it does not always follow: for -instance, if any one were to ask me whom I liked better, or if you, or -some equally pleasant person, were to propose our dining together at -Crockford's--" - -"I am not a member of Crockford's," said Lord Albert D'Esterre, gravely. - -"Oh! but your name is down, and _you_ are certain of being admitted -on the next ballot, and--" Lord Albert attempted to reply, but Leslie -Winyard continued, "and, as I was telling you, if a pleasant dinner was -prepared at Crockey's, I should, of course, not starve myself at the -Boileaus." - -"I confess myself at a loss to comprehend what you mean." - -"Well then, some day go and try; find yourself frozen in rooms where -the fire is lit only five minutes before the hour of your expected -arrival--starve at the hands of the very worst cook in England,--and -then, when you hear that my Lady spends twelve guineas on a new bonnet, -squanders thousands on her journies to Paris, and ruins Boileau in -articles for her toilette, _marvel_--but the thing is so." - -"Is it possible?" Lord Albert continued saying to himself; as the -person who had been talking to him turned away, half in derision of his -unsophisticated expressions and manner of receiving what he said,--"is -it possible that so much refinement of duplicity can exist, for an end -so trivial--where the gratification of the spirit of falsehood, or the -indulgence of an ill-bred impertinence, is the only object?" - -Whilst thus musing, and preparing to leave a scene which, as he became -more acquainted with the actors, appeared little suited to his tastes -or modes of thinking, he saw Lady Hamlet Vernon approach the door -unattended. A recollection that she alone, in the manner she spoke of -Lady Adeline Seymour, had seemed to have any sentiment in common with -himself, made him move towards her, and inquire if he could be of any -service in seeing her to her carriage. - -"I do not know if it is up," was her reply, "but perhaps you will have -the goodness to ask." He did so, and in the interval, before it was -announced, they continued conversing. "_Je vous félicite_," said Lord -Rainham, addressing Lady Hamlet Vernon in a low tone as he passed, and -looking significantly at the same time at Lord Albert D'Esterre. - -"There is no cause," she replied, "I am waiting for my carriage, and I -think it will never come." - -"_Discrète_," answered Lord Rainham, as he moved towards the door, and -signalled what he had observed to Leslie Winyard, whose answering nod -expressed concurrence in his suspicions. - -It was long before Lady Hamlet Vernon's carriage arrived, and she -continued talking with Lord Albert on various topics; the societies of -Paris and Vienna, compared with that of London; the state of the Opera, -and the prevalent bad taste of music on the Continent. She inquired -for many who in their exile in this country had been known to her, and -with whom, in the splendour of restored rank and fortunes, she found -Lord Albert had lived on terms of close intimacy. In speaking of them -he seemed to dwell with pleasure on their recollection of the services -rendered them in England, as a bright trait in the human character, -which betokened feelings that it was plain to see were in accordance -with his own generous and noble nature--and which had formed the basis -of that familiar intercourse in which he had lived with them. Although -the reverse of this picture has been ascribed to too many foreigners, -who have with justice been accused of ingratitude, it ought not -therefore to be recorded that all were subject to such condemnation. -Lord Albert knew otherwise. - -As he extolled their characters and perfections, and spoke of the -charms which their society had always possessed for him, Lady Hamlet -Vernon listened with increased attention, as if she would have gathered -from his discourse the individual sources of that satisfaction, which -he professed in so lively a manner to have found. "You are warm and -enthusiastic in your eulogiums," she said: "I hope that in England, -also, you may find those whom, with the same reasons, and an equal -ardour of attachment, you will be disposed to admit to your friendship." - -There was something in the tone in which these words were addressed -to him, that made Lord Albert D'Esterre for a moment fix his eyes on -the speaker; but they were as quickly withdrawn, when he saw Lady -Hamlet Vernon blush, apparently confused, and then pluck a flower from -a vase near her, while she endeavoured to hide her face by inhaling -the perfume. There was an awkwardness in the pause which ensued, which -neither seemed at the moment able to surmount; when fortunately Lady -Hamlet Vernon's carriage was called, and as Lord Albert handed her to -it, he received an invitation to her house in the evening, when Lady -Tilney's _coterie_ were to assemble there. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -"NEWSPAPERS"--"THE PARK." - - -The newspapers of the following morning had devoted columns to the -description of Lady Borrowdale's entertainment, and the numbering of -the distinguished persons assembled there; the dresses, the apartments, -the decorations, the viands, and every minute arrangement, were all -detailed with an accuracy which an eye-witness of the scene would -readily have acknowledged, and which none but an eye-witness could -possibly have succeeded in giving. - -In a far less conspicuous and pretending manner, did the announcement -figure in the same paper, that "Lady Tilney yesterday evening received -a select circle of her friends at her house in ---- Street, where -the Sontag gave several specimens of her unrivalled talents." An -uninstructed reader would have been misled by these harbingers of -public events; and from the tone of the respective _affichés_ feel -justified in the conclusion, that the one must have been the production -of Lady Borrowdale's own pen, or at least from her dictation, while the -other appeared naturally as the result of that publicity, to which the -actions of the great are always subjected. But this would have been -far from the fact, or rather the very opposite to it; it was to the -milliners, the confectioners, the musicians, the _maître d'hotel_, and -the other individuals interested in affording publicity to the dresses -and entertainments of their employers, that the long and circumstantial -details of Lady Borrowdale's, or any other great assembly, are to be -attributed; free from any petty interference, or the gratification of a -silly vanity on the part of the principals themselves. - -That this was the fact, was a circumstance which could not escape Lady -Tilney; and aware that such evidence, if it reached the public eye, -would destroy at once all the sacredness of her select _coteries_, -and the charms of the _société choisie_ which she was labouring to -form, she determined on suppressing it, and issued orders, not to -be disobeyed with impunity, for the effectual prevention of any -announcement of whom the circle consisted of on the evening in -question, and of its proceedings, with the exception that it excelled -all other of the same date, by the possession of Sontag's inimitable -powers. A mystery, which suited well with the ideas of Lady Tilney -and of her friends on the subject of exclusive _ton_, would thus, she -conceived, be thrown over their actions, and the rites of the supreme -deity of fashion impenetrably veiled from the prying, inquisitive eye, -and vulgar imitation of its pretending votaries. - -Humility is a duty of as especial injunction in the sacred volume, -as its opposite is of strict prohibition; and let it not surprise, -therefore, that Lord Albert D'Esterre, young in the world's masquerade, -and imbued with feelings, which if not religiously grounded, were -at least, from their purity, analogous to the moral doctrine which -religion teaches, should be struck, as he perused the two paragraphs, -by the apparent vanity of the one compared with the unostentatious -wording of the other, and drew his inferences accordingly. - -"What silly pomp in Lady Borrowdale; how unworthy her rank--how -positively little, thus to set forth the splendour of her -entertainment, which is worth nothing when it loses the character of -being a natural consequence of her station in society. What could -be more brilliant than Lady Tilney's assembly; and yet there is no -parade--no _catalogue raisonnée_ of all that was seen, done, or said in -her drawing-rooms--how much more like a woman of real fashion." - -Had Lord Albert D'Esterre been acquainted with the actual truth, -in all probability the opinion which he passed on this trivial -circumstance, as he took his breakfast, would have been the very -reverse of what it was; and, however he might hold cheap any silly -ostentatious display of wealth or rank, he would certainly have been -more ready to overlook Lady Borrowdale's carelessness whether her -assembly was reported accurately, or not at all, than he would have -been to forgive Lady Tilney's over-anxiety and ultra, _ton_ism (if such -a word may be coined), to screen the names and numbers of her guests, -and give celebrity to the coterie by making it a matter of secrecy and -of injunction to her domestics. - -The mornings of Lord Albert, however, were generally passed in -reflections of much more use and importance than such as newspaper -subjects could furnish. During the whole of his residence abroad, his -time had been employed in acquirements of a solid kind. He had studied -men and things--had made himself acquainted with the constitutions, -governments, resources, and political importance of all the great -European states; had lived amongst their inhabitants for the purpose -of acquiring that accurate knowledge of their habits and dispositions, -which tends so much to a just appreciation of the line of policy to -be observed towards them, and which must ever be influenced by an -acquaintance with national character. - -While receiving their instructions he had formed friendships with -some of their most distinguished literati in all the different -branches of knowledge, and had returned to England fully prepared for -the commencement of that public career to which his inclination led -him; and in which, amongst those who knew him intimately, and could -appreciate his abilities, he was justly expected to shine. - -The habit of occupation which he had formed whilst thus pursuing his -studies on the Continent, did not desert Lord Albert D'Esterre, even -in the noise and bustle of London society, in the midst of which he -now found himself; but in the mass of business which now fell upon -him in consequence of his taking possession of his large estates, in -the conferences of lawyers and agents, in the answering of letters on -these matters of varied interest which now occupied him, and in the -attentions to those minor cases of life, the etiquettes and forms of -the world, he still found leisure for serious and studious application; -nor indulged in the idleness of fashion till the duties of the morning -had been performed, when alone he availed himself of them, for the -purpose of relaxation and the unbending of his mind. - -It was the morning after Lady Tilney's soirée, and when he had gone -through his usual course of occupations, that Lord Albert recollected, -with what would be called old-fashioned politeness, "the propriety of -leaving his cards with the persons to whom he had been presented the -preceding evening, and more particularly with Lady Tilney herself; and -he determined to do so on his way to the Park. On arriving at Lady -Tilney's door he was informed that she was at home (for his name was -already on the list of those who had the entrée), and he was preparing -to dismount when he saw the carriage of the Countess Leinsengen -drive up. She bowed to him, and he was presently at the _portière_ -to hand her out; and offering her his arm, conducted her to Lady -Tilney's boudoir. "Comment ça va-t-il chère Comtesse," said the former -addressing her; "I congratulate you on possessing de acquaintance of -de only polite Englishman I have ever known--Dare is milor Albert -D'Esterre had vraiement de galanterie to get off his horse and conduct -me from my carriage. N'est-ce pas merveilleux in dis country!" - -Lord Albert bowed to the compliment; but added: "I am sure Lady -Tilney will not allow such a cruel sentence on our nation to pass even -your lips, Comtesse; and will agree with me, that though a few may -have taken up a false system, and assumed an air of disregard to the -courtesies of life, yet it is only such as seek for distinction by -false means, and by doing the reverse of what others do: we cannot, -therefore, allow the censure to be general on us all; indeed, I do -my sex but justice I hope, when I say, that they are in this country -invariably the friends and supporters of women, and--" "Oh yes; perhaps -if one tumble down, or break one's leg, or meet vid any personal danger -or affront, dis may be so; but dese affairs do not arise every day: and -for de little cares of de men, _les petits soins_, I never knew one of -your country men who knew vat dey meant." - -Lord Albert smiled at the manner in which the argument in favour of -his politeness was maintained; but perceiving Lady Tilney little -inclined to keep up a conversation on the subject of national manners, -he refrained from drawing the comparison, which would have been just, -between a natural politeness, arising as much from feeling and imbued -delicacy of sentiment, as from habit, and the mere outward forms of -courtesy and etiquette, which in those most profuse of them have seldom -any thing of sincerity. - -"Well, I suppose ve must go to dat tiresome Almack dis evening. You -go?" said the Comtesse Leinsengen, addressing Lady Tilney; "for my part -I tink I shall viddraw my name." - -"Oh, certainly I shall go," replied the latter, "for it is absolutely -necessary you know, my dear Comtesse, that some of us should be there; -and besides I am of opinion that as people must have something to keep -them quiet, and which _they think recherché_, Almack's is as good -as any thing else, and therefore I shall support it--In regard to -_us_, I agree perfectly with you, it is _passée_, and no longer what -was intended." The Comtesse shrugged her shoulders: "You will be at -Almack's to-night," said Lady Tilney, turning to Lord Albert D'Esterre, -"although we are giving it such a bad name, will you not?" - -"Your hours of admission are limited you know, and I scarcely think I -can get away in time from ----" - -"There is no debate of consequence, is there?" rejoined Lady Tilney -with earnestness--"I may forget, but should there be, of course----" - -"I did not mean from the house," continued Lord Albert, "but I am -going to dine where I shall meet Baron H.; I have known him on the -continent, and his conversation is so very interesting."--"And so very -long," added the Comtesse Leinsengen, interrupting him, and with a look -which was intended to repay many discussions she had been constrained -to endure at Lady Tilney's hands; "I wonder he ever finds people to -listen to him."--"But where do you dine," said Lady Tilney, seeming to -disregard the opinion just uttered. "I know Barnette, and he is very -agreeable, very clever, but I wonder he allows himself to be so _fétéd_ -by people so little known in the world. I shall be happy, I am sure--" - -"I am to meet him at the Miss D.'s," replied Lord Albert, interrupting -her, and who felt that _this_ was the point he was called upon to -answer, and not that of who were or who were not known in Lady Tilney's -estimation. - -"And do you really visit them?" said the latter with great surprise, -"are you not _ennuyé_ to death at their parties?" - -"_Ennuyé!_ no--but then I must premise that I never am so under any -circumstances." - -"Ah, _bon!_ do tell me how that is, Milor," said the Comtesse -Leinsengen, "precisely, do tell me how you avoid infection from dat -prevalent disease of your island, dat _bore_ you call it." - -"Oh, I always do what I like," replied Lord Albert with a smile. - -"Cela ne fait rien à l'affaire, one do not always know vat von like." - -"I have nothing to reply to that; but for myself, if I do not find -exactly what I like I always endeavour to extract entertainment from -the persons or place, where, or with whom I may chance to be." - -"Par exemple, at the Miss D.'s, what can you find at their horrible -conversaziones to keep you awake," asked Lady Tilney, "c'est un ennui à -périr, it makes me yawn to think of it." - -"Oh, he goes to do penance for his sins, and purchase indulgence for -dose to come, n'est ce pas, Milor?" - -"Neither, I assure you; I was really more entertained during a _soirée_ -there last week than I have been since my return to England." - -"Ah, le beau compliment! de grâce do not avow it," said the Comtesse. - -Lady Tilney looked amazed at these opinions, like one in doubt if she -had not with too much precipitation admitted an enemy within the camp, -in the person of Lord Albert; and whilst canvassing the necessity of -retrieving her error, by his future exclusion, and at the same time -the policy of retaining one of his interest and promise in her circle, -with a view to his reform, she directed her enquiries to him in a tone -almost dictatorial, as to the ground of his faith in the merits of -the society he had been extolling. "Will you tell me, Lord Albert, of -whom are these parties generally composed? I have yet to learn that -there are distinguished individuals capable of creating such great -interest apart from what is generally termed the society of London; -or, I must conclude--but I will not do that hastily--that you yourself -have imbibed ideas quite foreign to propriety, and have given way to -associations quite unfitting your situation in the world." - -Lord Albert in his turn seemed astonished at these categories, but -answered with perfect ease: "I have found at the Miss D.'s many whom I -meet elsewhere and, every where; but my chief attraction is the number -of talented persons who are often assembled in the circle, and whose -conversation affords me the greatest interest, and much instruction." - -"One do not go into society to be instructed," said the Comtesse -Leinsengen with a sneer. - -"Surely not," added Lady Tilney, "clever people are well in their -way,--I mean your really learned persons--men who have read, travelled, -written all their lives, but then it is in one's own apartment in the -morning that they are sufferable. I know but very few indeed, who are -presentable, or who have the true talent of turning their powers to -account, without torturing one to death with their learning; and then -without great circumspection they become familiar, and one is obliged -to take so much trouble, and be so much on one's guard, to keep them -in their place. Be assured, Lord Albert, you will find this to be the -case," continued Lady Tilney, "if you give unlimited encouragement to -_gens de ce grade_--There is but one subject on which you may listen -to them, I mean politics; but how few there are of the class who are -enlightened enough to speak on that subject. We have, it is true, D-- -and B-- C--, and the Count K--, sometimes with us; and among our own -countrymen, we have M-- and a few others, but--" - -The Countess Leinsengen's impatience was here manifested by the usual -shrug of her shoulders, and as she perceived Lady Tilney embarking on -the interminable ocean of politics, turning quickly to Lord Albert she -enquired, - -"But who may be de very clever persons, Milor, who give you so much -amusement in dis very charming society?" - -"Where there are so many to name, it is hard to select," replied -Lord Albert; "but there was the great traveller, who has been further -into the interior of Africa than any one has yet penetrated. His -descriptions of deserts, and skies, and camels, conveyed me beside -him in his pilgrimage; the trackless sands in which no insect can -find subsistence; the well by which the caravan halted, the only -visible friend of the traveller throughout the vast desert; the wide -canopy of starry heavens, spread out above; those heavens and those -stars, of whose clear brightness we in these cloudy regions have but a -faint idea; the varied and picturesque garb of guides and guards; the -meekness of the patient camel; the silence of the march, unless some -alarm from the fierce and wandering tribes of the country disturbed -its tranquillity; and then the noise, and gesticulation, and activity, -which accompanied the pitching of the tents for the night's or noon's -repose, were circumstances all described and dwelt upon by the -traveller, with a nervous strength and accuracy of delineation which -nothing but original description can give, and which came to me with so -much force and truth, and such beauty of imagery, that I thought, as he -spoke, travelling was the only delightful way of passing one's life." - -Lady Tilney and the Comtesse Leinsengen exchanged looks, while Lord -Albert was thus giving way to the natural feelings of a mind yet -untinctured with the follies of fashion, and which saw no degradation -to his rank in seeking and finding amusement in the society of -enlightened persons. - -"Tell me," at length asked Lady Tilney, with an expression something -like contempt, "had you no _changement de décoration_; was all your -talk about camels, and deserts, and wells, and stars?"--"Ah," cried the -Comtesse Leinsengen, "_avouez moi, Milor, que la nouvelle du jour vaut -been mieux_." Lord Albert smiled, and allowed that this was amusing too -in its way; but he added, - -"We had a change of divertissement I assure you, after dinner; _Il -cantar che nel' anima si sente_ took the place of conversation for a -time, and Mr. M--" - -"Oh he is well enough," said Lady Tilney, "in his place, and sings -charmingly;" (for the person in question was the Anacreon of her party, -and sometimes tuned his lays to subjects on which party feeling and -political animosity loved to cast derision)--"he is well enough."--"And -sings, do you not think," rejoined Lord Albert, "divinely? I have heard -others sing finely--sweetly--scientifically--even feelingly; but such -lightness, such magic bursts of imagery, such painting of sounds, I -never heard but in his song." - -"And you have heard de Sontag: you heard her dis last evening?" - -"Oh yes, often; I heard her at Vienna before she came to England." - -"Well, and you prefer dis little gentleman--_tout les gens sont -respectables_;" and she sneered, as if in contradiction to the words. - -"Perhaps the parties will not bear a comparison," added Lady Tilney, -jealous of one whom she patronized, and whose merits she had in a -measure acknowledged; and then, turning to Lord Albert, she continued-- - -"You must not mistake me, my dear lord; I have no objection to the -_sort of thing_ you have been describing. I honour talent, and delight -in conversation; but then it must be on a proper footing; in circles -where those persons who talk, and talk very well I dare say, should be -under restraint; where they would feel themselves debarred entirely -from _undue_ license, and a consideration that they formed part of -the society, and where they would appear in their true characters--to -direct and amuse others when called upon; just as actors and singers -come upon the stage to play their parts, and then retire. Now in the -circle you allude to all this necessary distinction is overthrown at -once--every one there, from the nature of things, considers himself -_pair et compagnon_ of the company, and behaves accordingly. In small -rooms--" - -"_On meurt de chaud au de froid, par parenthèse_," interrupted the -Comtesse, who dreaded one of Lady Tilney's long discussions; "for -dere is one moment a thorough air, and de next all is shut up, and -one fries vid de fire; but dat is always de case where dere is no -_poêle_ stove--However, adieu ma belle; I must go and leave you and -Milor dere to settle all de points about dat société which he likes so -much--adieu--_au revoir, Milor, je vous salue_." - -Lord Albert would have followed his natural impulse of politeness, and -handed the Comtesse Leinsengen to her carriage; disposed, perhaps, also -to escape further conversation with Lady Tilney on topics where they -seemed to hold no ideas in common. This, however, he was not permitted -to do, the Comtesse declining his offered arm, saying she should never -be forgiven if Lady Tilney were deprived of the triumph of converting -him from his errors;--and closing the door, as she insisted on his -remaining, Lord Albert was left tête-à -tête with Lady Tilney. - -"Do you not think she is terribly gone off this year?" said the latter. - -"I do not know if I understand you. If it be that her beauty is gone -off, I should say yes--but I never heard she _was_ handsome." - -"No?" asked Lady Tilney, with an expression of satisfaction; "but she -is surely very _distingué_ looking."--"She has the advantage of that -species of polish which the world gives," was Lord Albert's reply; "but -this often covers an unpolished mind--and I am not sure it is the first -thing I should look for." - -"I like nature as much as you can do, my dear lord; I ever stood up for -that liberty and freedom attendant on persons not quite _fait au feu_; -but I must confess that I like to have them a little dressed, _not -perfectly raw_." - -How far Lord Albert might have found it possible to agree with Lady -Tilney in this new question, so suddenly started, it was not left him -to discover; for at that moment fresh visitors were announced--and, as -they entered, Lord Albert prepared to depart. Not, however, till Lady -Tilney--who, spite of what she called his false theories, saw he was a -person by no means to be hastily rejected--had bidden him to her box at -the Opera on Saturday evening. "I am determined to be at the rising of -the curtain," she said, "to hear the Sontag--only it is so difficult to -be in time. Were you ever in time in your life?"-- - -"Yes, I have," answered Lord Albert, smiling. - -"Then be at the very _premier congé d'arche_ on Saturday," added Lady -Tilney, as he bowed to her and left the apartment; glad to have gotten -over a visit of ceremony, where, from the tone of conversation which -had passed, he augured that little in future would be found consonant -to his ideas or his tastes. - -As he rode from the door, Lord Albert turned his horse towards the -Park. It was one of the first Spring days that had shone in the early -year, and all the gayest of London seemed hastening to enjoy its genial -influence.--Yes, even the weary and the _blazé_ in life's crooked paths -appeared for a moment to acknowledge the charm which the brilliancy of -the scene and the brightness of the atmosphere combined to form. Smiles -were in every face and cheerfulness in every movement. - -Than the throng of Hyde Park there is perhaps no promenade in Europe -more dazzling; none where more magnificence of equipage, or more beauty -of human form is displayed; and it is difficult for the young, and the -handsome more particularly, not to feel intoxicated as they enter on a -stage where the whole appearance is so fair, and where a consciousness -of personal charms assures them they must themselves shine.--It is -not probable that Lord Albert D'Esterre, philosophical as he has just -appeared while discoursing with Lady Tilney, was altogether free from -feelings so natural to his years, or from that species of vanity which -seeks a display of personal beauty, or whatever other quality may best -glitter in such a scene. - -He was young, strikingly handsome, possessing a form of perfect -symmetry, and moreover one of the finest horsemen of his time. What -wonder then if, as he sought the crowded road of the Park, something -like self-love had a share in the direction which he took, and the -choice made of the spot where he might breathe the balmy air of such a -day. As he joined some of his acquaintances in the Ride, and stopped to -speak to others, passing from right to left and from north to south in -the gay and splendid crowd, his recollections were naturally turned to -similar parades in other countries, and he felt pride as an Englishman -in considering how far our national display of beauty and of wealth -outshone that of other capitals. - -"Neither Vienna, nor Paris, nor St. Petersburgh, can rival this, -Glenmore," he said, in the buoyancy of his gratification at the -scene--"nothing that we ever beheld there is comparable with this--now -is it?" - -"You have chosen your day well," replied the latter, "because, if it -had been one of those three hundred and sixty-five days of mist which -we generally enjoy in this metropolis, I should be disposed to dispute -the point with you, and set the sunshine of a Parisian Spring against -the brilliancy of our ladies' eyes and the splendour of their retinues. -And would you not agree with me?" - -"Why, as a mere animal, I might, perhaps--climate does affect our -_physique_, I will allow; but the national pride--" - -"Oh, bah! my dear D'Esterre your national pride in this instance has -nothing to do with the matter;--and if the belles of Paris, or Vienna, -or the Calmuck beauties of St. Petersburgh, could rival ours, their -horses and coach-makers surpass what you see before you, and their -summers be eternal, your _amour de la patrie_, I fear, would not long -continue _to bias_ your judgment. No, no, D'Esterre, that feeling does -not live on food like this; but we have other and better sources for -it, as you well know and feel." - -Lord Albert's face shewed, in the generous glow which suffused it, -a sense of his friend's appreciation of his sounder judgment; but he -added, with a smile, "if you will not allow my present admiration -to proceed from such a noble spring, at least do not accuse me of a -reverse of sentiment, if I draw a comparison, in another respect, not -at all favourable to my countrymen. Do you observe that line of men -drawn up in battle array, and with impertinent nonchalance passing -judgment on the women who drive before them? It must, or ought to be, -at least, offensive to the pride and delicacy of the former; it would -shock any European, and is a custom more suited to eastern despotism, -and to the rules of an Asiatic slave mart, than to a civilized nation." - -"But do you conclude, therefore, that the men are alone to blame in -this?" asked Lord Glenmore; "and is it to be presumed that they would -have forgotten the courtesies and respect due from them, if women in -general had been more true to the delicacies and decencies of their own -sex. Do justice to the men while you blame the practice of the day, and -acknowledge, that if the nod, or motion of the hand, or impertinent -glance of recognition now takes place of the bow and respectful -salutation of other times, yet that there must have been a sufferance -of the change, if not an encouragement of it, and an equal alteration -of manners on the other hand, or it would never have been." - -"I dare say you are right, Glenmore; and if so the more the pity. But -although custom sanctions all change in reciprocal demeanour between -men and women, yet because the stiff and _manière_ address of the last -century was laid aside with the silk coat, and bag-wig, and sword, I do -not see why courtly manners should have been exiled at the same time. -So long as society is to exist on a proper footing, there must be an -outward shew of proper feelings; and when all deference in minor points -ceases, it is quite certain that all consideration of respect in more -serious matters will cease too."--"What is that I hear?" cried Leslie -Winyard, riding up to Lord Glenmore's side, and nodding familiarly to -his companion;--"what is that I hear about proper feelings, and all -consideration of respect? You are not moralizing in Hyde Park I hope." - -"D'Esterre says that you men do very wrong to sit on your horses, rank -and file, and let the ladies parade before you; and I think what he -says is true." - -"Indeed!" replied Mr. Leslie Winyard, and looking round in Lord Albert -D'Esterre's face with a sneer, "I believe if we were not to do so, -you would have very few beauties to admire in your ride,--the women -only come here to see us."--"And what do _you_ come for?" asked Lord -Glenmore smiling.--"Oh, to shew ourselves, certainly: to _be_ admired." -Before he could reply to the insufferable impertinence of this -speech--if indeed he would have deemed it worthy any reply--an equipage -caught the eye of Lord Glenmore as it entered the gate, and putting -spurs to his horse he was at its side in a moment and speaking to the -ladies in it. "Whose carriage is that?" asked Lord Albert of Leslie -Winyard, who continued to saunter his horse in company with him. - -"It's the Melcombe's," he replied, after a pause, and having put the -handle of his whip, which contained a glass, to his eye--"it's the -Melcombe's: Georgina is a d--d fine girl. Don't you know Georgina? they -say Glenmore is smitten,--I'll go and see the fun;" and, with these -words, this model of the gallantry of the nineteenth century rode off. -"What can he mean," said Lord Albert to himself, "by calling any woman -familiarly by her name in that manner, unless she be his sister or near -relative; but to me, a stranger almost to himself, and to the party -utterly unknown, what abominable vulgarity, what detestable insolence!" - -There is no saying how far Lord Albert might have gone on in his -animadversions on the manners of his sex, if he had been left quite -to himself, for there was enough around him, and before his eyes, to -provoke remark even in a mind less alive to the niceties and decorum -of polished life. But his attention was called another way, and he -in turn was to become a subject of flippant ridicule; to be set down -as a person _à prétension_, by the young men whose manners he had -very justly condemned, and who chose to attribute to coxcombry and to -affectation, a demeanour and a bearing which they had not the power to -imitate. - -A graceful inclination of the head from some lady passing in the -throng, and whose feathers waved in unison with the movement, as she -bowed to Lord Albert, caught his eye. He gazed for a moment, not -recognizing the party, but lifted his hat courteously from his head, -and as he looked back to ascertain better who it was, perceived the -carriage had stopped near the gate. Turning his horse, therefore, he -rode in the direction, and discovered that it was Lady Hamlet Vernon -who had saluted him. He approached the carriage, with all the air and -gallantry of a really high bred person, thanked Lady Hamlet Vernon -for the honour she had done him, in recognizing him in the crowd; -apologized for his own blindness, and continued for some minutes in -conversation with her on the beauty and gaiety of the scene, and on -the current topics of the day. His back was turned at the time to the -phalanx of horsemen, whose ranks, and avowed occupation, had given -occasion to his remarks on the bad manners of the age; and who now, -assembled in closer body by the gate, were ready to give their last -glance of scrutiny or recognition to the departing carriages. - -"That's a fine horse that man is upon," said Lord Tonnerre, pointing to -Lord Albert; "who the devil is he?" - -"Oh! its D'Esterre," said Leslie Winyard, "do you not know him a mile -off, by all his bows and grimaces: for me, I could 'wind him i' the -lobby, any where.'" - -"Damn the fellow, what business has he with such a horse--can he ride?" - -"I should think not," drawled out Lord Baskerville; "he is the most -conceited animal London has boasted for some centuries. I heard him -talk last night about that dear Sontag, till I was sick."--"And, my -lords and gentlemen," said Leslie Winyard, in mock solemnity, "he -talked not only most fancifully, as my Lord Baskerville avers, last -night, but on this morning too: and upon what? Divine, O ye augurs! -declare it, ye soothsayers!--Why he discovered, in the very age and -body of the time--its forms and its complexion, and pronounced our -manners, rude; our bearing, unlike gentlemen; our noble array here, -barbaric and uncivilized;--in short, [assuming his natural tone] he -is a d--d puppy. I caught him, but now, preaching in this strain to -Glenmore, who, like a fool, said he agreed with him!"--A general -murmur burst from the circle which had listened to Leslie Winyard, -and the words coxcomb, ass, puppy, poppinjay, and jackanapes, issued -simultaneously from the lips of these polished ultras of ton. - -Lord Tonnerre alone was silent, but his features shewed him to be as -little in a mood for gentleness as any of them. When having grasped -his rein, and put his horse on his haunches, he glanced a look of -intelligence to those around him, and was off at full speed towards the -spot where Lord Albert, leaning from his horse, was still conversing -with Lady Hamlet Vernon. Regardless of courtesy, or the consequences of -his impetuosity, he kept his violent course till within half a neck of -the carriage, and then suddenly endeavoured to wheel round, and pass on -the other side. Lord Albert's horse, startled at this close and sudden -approach, plunged, and alarmed at the carriages and noise, became, for -a moment, unmanageable, and broke away. His rider's admirable dexterity -and coolness, however, soon enabled him to rein in this movement, -and return towards the spot from which he had started, and where his -preoccupation had prevented his observing that a crowd of horsemen had -gathered, who partially stood round, or were dismounting, seemingly to -assist in some accident. He moved at a quicker pace, and found that -Lord Tonnerre's horse, on being so roughly checked, had reared, and -fallen back on his rider. - -Lord Albert was on his feet in an instant, and making his way through -the throng was as eager in his inquiries, and prompt to render -assistance to the sufferer, as if he had been personally interested -in him. He found, however, no serious mischief had occurred. Lord -Tonnerre, with the exception of having been stunned with the fall, and -not yet able to rise, seemed perfectly himself, and careless of what -had happened. - -His first inquiries were for his horse; and having been assured by -several of his friends that no injury had been sustained in that -quarter, he swore loudly against the animal for a fault which had been -entirely his own, gave way to the most violent gesticulations of angry -passion against the curiosity (as he called it) of the by-standers, and -so disgusted Lord Albert D'Esterre by his want of proper feeling under -an accident that might have ended fatally, that the latter mounted his -horse once more, rode round to the other side of Lady Hamlet Vernon's -carriage to assure her that she need be under no apprehension for -Lord Tonnerre's safety, and continuing by her side as she proceeded -out of the Park, left the actors of this paltry scene to bear their -discomfiture as they best could. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -"THE OPERA." - - -It is not to be supposed that Lady Tilney should keep a determination -formed fully one hundred and forty-four hours before the season of -its fulfilment, or retain on the Saturday evening the same degree of -passionate admiration of the Sontag's powers, which she had expressed -on the previous Wednesday to Lord Albert D'Esterre, when announcing -her intention of being present at the first scene of the Opera. She -did, however, reach the house, on the evening in question, before the -conclusion of the third act, and found the Comtesse Leinsengen already -in her box. - -"Eh bien, ma chere, à la fin vous voilà ! have you been ever since at -dat tiresome dinner?" - -"Oh no; I drove home immediately after you went away; but I had -a thousand things of consequence to do, and could not positively -arrive sooner. Amongst other things there was a great enormous card -of invitation from the D'Hermantons. It is quite out of the question -_my_ going: and I think the affair ought to be overturned as much as -possible--our cause should be established without offence directly -given, but decidedly; and if we are engaged elsewhere, you know, our -excuse of '_exceedingly sorry_' will always effect this, and save us, -in the present instance, from the extensive and moral acquaintances of -the Duchess, and from the _fadeur_ of her evenings. I would myself send -out cards did I not think it would be too marked; but some of us might -do so. There is Lady de Chére, I see, in her box; would you arrange -the business with her to-night in the room--Do you agree with me, my -dear Comtesse?" Her friend nodded assent; and in her abrupt rough voice -said, "N'ayez pas peur! I can always hold up my head and tread _down de -plebe_--we are used to dat; but for you, I fear in dis country, you do -not understand de matter."-- - -"You know, my dear Comtesse, I have often explained to you, that our -constitution--" - -"Oh! trève de politiques I implore," said the Comtesse Leinsengen, -turning her head away, and looking towards the stage: "trève de -politiques je n'en puis plus; but fiez vous en à moi."-- - -"I am surely the last person you ought to suspect unequal to that task! -It is quite unjust to me, dear Comtesse! Have you forgotten the woman -whom Lady Ellersby and myself thought we could use? whom we actually -paraded for a season, maintained she was a beauty, and a person 'qui -feroit fureur;' and after all, when she failed, left her planté in the -midst of the promised honours; actually ejected her from Almack's, -and if we met, walked over her as a person whose face we had never -seen!--Was not this carried with a proper spirit?" - -"Yes, under my suggestion; but I could have told you from de first -that her _grand nigaud de mari_ would be always _à ses trousses_, and -prevent her being of the least service to us. It is quite a mistake -to attempt such a measure, _ça sent le roman_, and I do hate all -romance--Dat young milor, (vat you name him?) dat was at your house -de oder morning, Lor--Lor Albert D'Esterre; I don't think, upon my -word, never I don't, dat he will do us any good, I have my doubts dat -he is only _un espion_, and--" Whilst the Comtesse was speaking, the -door of the box opened, and there entered, with an air of affected -refinement, a person whose appearance ill suited with his outward show -of courtliness--his face was red and large, with grey eyes, his hair -inclining to flaxen, and his whole figure round and ill-formed. - -This physiognomy, however, if Sir William Temple would have allowed -himself to be natural, was an index to his disposition, for he was _au -fond_ good-natured; but an overweening vanity--a desire to be fine, and -be considered one of the beau-monde, had spoilt the man, and he became -insufferably pompous and conceited--in proportion as his exertions in -good dinners _in_ the season, a good country house _out_ of it, and -a vote in parliament, made him successful in obtaining the notice of -people of rank, and of the minister. The first thought his cook good, -his chateau, at an easy distance from London, convenient--and the last, -remembering the old woman's adage, considered that every little helped, -and that Sir William's vote, so long as it was on the right side, was -as good as any other. He had made his way thus far with tolerable -facility, but his ambition grew by feeding on, and was only to be -satisfied by the attainment of the highest distinction of the _ton_ of -the day; such as in his estimate was conferred by the protecting smile -of Lady Tilney, the Comtesse Leinsengen and others of that _élite_ body. - -No opportunity therefore was lost, no pains omitted to arrive at this -desirable end, and to improve the recognition with which Sir William -found himself at times honoured, into what should at least _appear_ a -footing of intimacy. An opera box was an outwork more easy to be taken -by a _coup de main_, than a lodgment effected in the citadel itself; -and while unregistered on the favoured list of the _entré_ at Lady -Tilney's mansion, the access to her circle in the public theatre, which -was not denied him, appeared a license of the utmost importance, and -one which he was the last man to let grow obsolete by neglect of usage, -or forget to turn to profit. - -"Has not the Sontag outdone herself to-night, Lady Tilney?" asked Sir -William as he entered the box. - -"Yes, never was there such a singer--I have been listening till my very -ears ache with intense attention." - -"I am so glad, Lady Tilney, to hear you say so, for I have been -disputing the point with Lord Albert D'Esterre, who maintains that -the Sontag's singing is not in the first style, and a great deal more -of the same sort; but he might as well endeavour to persuade me that -Ude is inferior to Doveton's present man Mariné. I think Lord Albert -D'Esterre wishes to be thought an oracle, and the superior judge of all -judges, and that without his decree there can be no perfection." - -"_Vraiment_," said the Comtesse with a shrug of her shoulders, "I -think Milor might suspend his judgments till he heard if people cared -for dem." - -"Ah, how delighted I am Comtesse to hear you say so," cried Sir -William, repeating the words he had first addressed to Lady Tilney, and -which indeed he addressed to every one of _ton_, let what might be the -subject, or the sense that fell from them. - -"_Vraiment!_" again came drily from the lips of Comtesse Leinsengen, -accompanied with a look at the speaker, which told him that the -contempt conveyed in that expression, when speaking of Lord Albert, -attached equally to himself. Fully understanding the intended meaning, -and conscious that with the Comtesse Leinsengen he had made much less -way than with Lady Tilney, he turned once more to the latter, and -addressed her on a subject by which he knew well he should pay his -court successfully. - -"You were not at Lady Borrowdale's the other night. You never saw such -a set as were assembled there; positively there was no stirring without -coming in contact with people whom one had never seen before--and then -it is such bad taste to collect such a crowd--for my part, I got away -after the first glance at the affair." Lady Tilney smiled, and Sir -William, encouraged, continued, "Do you dine at Doveton's?" - -"I believe so." - -"I am delighted to hear you say so. Lord Osbalston asked me for the -same day--but Mariné, you know, lives with Doveton now, and he could -always turn the scale with me" (laughing affectedly); "_Apropos_, -might I venture to ask the honour of your partaking of my rustic fare? -I am living, you know, quite _en garçon_; but it would be a variety, -so different from all you meet elsewhere; so very plain, and so very -humble; and you would of course do me the honour to name your own -party. Might I hope that you too, Comtesse, would condescend so far?" - -This was the boldest step Sir William Temple had yet taken; and -he stood in proportionate anxiety, breathless and red, awaiting a -reply which was to confirm or crush his hopes. May be, like a second -Cæsar, he felt that he had crossed the limits of the empire, and -saw that victory only could retrieve what he had hazarded, and that -he must rise or fall by that. If victory did attend him, then, like -another Alexander, he might weep for fresh worlds to conquer; but if -he fell,--"oh! what a fall was there, my friends!" Such feelings, no -doubt, did agitate his swelling breast when he saw the interchange of -looks pass between Lady Tilney and her friend, as if they questioned -each other. - -"Shall we gratify this man?" (this fool he would have read, could -he have interpreted the Countess Leinsengen's expression): "shall -we countenance him?" and in the tremendous moment of suspense Sir -William blest his stars that there were none by to mark him. But when -the joyful sound of Lady Tilney's voice pronounced an acceptance of -his petition, he would have given every thing, short of the promised -honour itself, that the whole Opera house had been present to witness -his triumph. "You will receive us _en garçon_, Sir William, dat will -be very good," said the Comtesse Leinsengen: "all I bargain for is dat -there should be no misses--dose unmarried women are always in de way." - -Sir William was too much intoxicated with joy--too much absorbed -with the prospect of his increasing consequence in the eyes of the -fashionable world, when it should be announced that he had entertained -the Comtesse Leinsengen, Lady Tilney, and a party of distinguished -personages to dinner, at his house in May Fair, to pay attention to -any thing not immediately connected with the results which that dinner -would produce. He had heard not one word distinctly beyond the promised -acceptance of his invitation; although he continued mechanically to -reply, whenever he imagined himself addressed. "I am so glad to hear -you say so!--I am delighted to hear that!" At last, on recovering -a little, he perceived that Lady Tilney and her friend had entered -into an argument on the subject of the unmarried ladies, to whom -the Comtesse had alluded, and in which his dinner seemed entirely -forgotten, or likely to be so. - -"Dey are always tinking of settlements, and jewels, and have nothing -to do but take notice of what oders are doing," rejoined the Comtesse -Leinsengen, in her most thrilling tone: "Our way is much de better dan -yours; we marry our children at once, or put them in de convents: dat -settles de matter, and make dem much happier too." - -"I am not quite so sure of that point, my dear Comtesse," said Lady -Tilney, "although I own ladies are bores; but we manage the thing -in _our_ way, and as well at least: we let them _seem_ to please -themselves, which is half the battle towards making them satisfied with -the lot they draw, and we ourselves direct the entire _marche du jeu_. -You know I am for liberty in all things; liberty of choice as well as -conscience; but very young people do not know what they wish and it -is only when a little acquainted with the world that any body can be -said to have a choice." Sir William Temple remained in torture during -this discussion, and more than once wished all the unmarried ladies -in London, who thus seemed to step in between himself and fortune, -at the bottom of the sea. At length, tired, but not convinced, Lady -Tilney left her opponent in the middle of a sentence, and turning to -the unhappy Sir William, asked, "for what day shall I make our party at -your house?" - -"I am delighted to hear you say that!" was the prompt and very sincere -answer of the person addressed. "Oh, any day you do me the honour to -appoint." - -"Dat dinner of yours, Sir William, oh vraiment je me fais fête d'y -penser," cried the Comtesse Leinsengen, turning abruptly round to him, -and determined that her rival in argument should not have even that -subject entirely her own. - -"I hate vaiting and puts off; we vill fix de day at once--vat say -you to Sunday? to-morrow--de Sunday is always frightful dull in your -country; 'tis the only day, besides, in which I am disengaged." - -"I'm so glad to hear you say so," replied Sir William, "let it be -to-morrow," turning at the same time with a look of inquiry to Lady -Tilney. - -"Oh, after church there is no objection to diverting one's-se1f -innocently; it is impossible to read and pray all day: besides I like -to make the Sunday, on principle, a gay, chearful day." - -At this moment Lord Albert D'Esterre entered. "Shall I ask him for -to-morrow?" eagerly whispered Sir William into Lady Tilney's ear; -afraid lest the subject nearest his heart should again be usurped by -some other topic. - -"Yes--no--yes, you may;" replied Lady Tilney; whose answer in the -affirmative was decided by her wish to know more of Lord Albert in -society, and a little also by Comtesse Leinsengen's having held cheap -her penetration in regard to the qualifications of the former for their -_société choisie_. The invitation was quickly given, and no excuse -would be admitted. While Lord Albert was endeavouring to extricate -himself from this importunity, and Sir William to convince him of -the impossibility of disobeying Lady Tilney's commands, which he -advanced to strengthen his cause, the Comtesse Leinsengen caught the -conversation: - -"So, Milor, you will not be at de party to-morrow? an excuse vraiment! -when de people make _me excuse_, I know what dat means, and it is made -up in my mind never to ask dem again." - -"When you have once expressed that horrible sentence," answered Lord -Albert, smiling, "it would surely be impossible to incur so great a -danger; but as I am really not able to give my assent to the very -obliging invitation, I shall not, I hope, be deemed deserving of the -penalty." - -"What! _then_ you will _not_ accept?" asked the Comtesse Leinsengen -again, in her own abrupt tone of command. - -"No; I lament I cannot." The Comtesse shrugged her shoulders, adding: - -"What! you will not accept, I suppose, because it is Sunday; and you -are engaged all de day long to de Church; is it not dat--are you what -dey call a saint?" Lord Albert felt annoyed by the importunity with -which he had been assailed; and conceiving, according to his own ideas -of good breeding, that declining an invitation at first was sufficient, -he continued to look more grave and annoyed. Still as the Comtesse -repeated the question: - -"Are you what dey call a saint?" - -"No, a sinner certainly; but would I were indeed a saint." - -"So den you condemn us all, I suppose, who do not keep de Sunday -stupidly _à la façon Angloise_? Vill you tell me now, Milor, vat you -tink one may do on a Sunday? I suppose you would not hang your cat, -_par exemple_, if she killed her mouse on Sunday, vould you?" - -Lord Albert D'Esterre looked still more cold and grave, as he drew -himself up and leant against the back of the box, saying, that "it was -an unfitting time and place for such discussions, and that he begged -to be excused from entering upon them." Then bending forward to Lady -Tilney, who had remained silent, and saying a few words to her, he -bowed and retired. - -"Il est farouche et fanfaron au possible," cried the Comtesse -Leinsengen, as he closed the door; "after to-night I have done vid him." - -"He is only original; and it will be a great thing to soften his little -prejudices, and teach him to enjoy existence under your tuition, -if it were possible," said Sir William, making as low a bow as his -_embonpoint_ would permit, "'_to soften knotted oaks, and bend the -rocks_,' it would be done--" - -Lady Tilney smiled at the mis-quotation, while the Comtesse Leinsengen -added in a tone of impatience: "but Miladi, do vat she vill, cannot -make a bore agreeable; but, ah!" turning round, "dere is Milor -Baskerville, how glad I am to have something humanized to talk to! -Milor, we have just had a saint in our box; do you not smell de odour -of sanctity very strong?" - -"I am at a loss to know your meaning, Comtesse--pray explain;" and -when she did so, he replied; "Hem! from the first moment I saw him, I -suspected that stiff unnatural sort of manner had something sinister, -(hem!) I hope I am not worse than my neighbours, (hem!) but whenever -I hear any thing approaching to cant (hem!) I fly from it, (hem!) as -I would from all that I hold most detestable; (hem!) besides, since -his conduct to Tonnerre, I have considered him (hem!) hardly in the -light of a gentleman. (hem!) You heard, Comtesse, did you not, of that -affair? (hem!)" - -"No, vat _affaire_ you speak of?" - -"Oh, you know he nearly caused Tonnerre a most serious accident, and -(hem!) his favourite horse Chester, it is feared, is entirely ruined." - -"No, I never heard one word of it, vat was it for?"--"Why, Tonnerre -(hem!) was riding up gently to speak (hem!) to Lady Hamlet Vernon -in the Park, (hem!) my Lord Albert D'Esterre, who was by her -carriage, (hem!) chose to turn his horse short round, and to shew his -horsemanship, spurred the animal, who plunged and kicked, and (hem!) -Tonnerre's horse was driven against the carriage and reared, and fell -back--(hem!) and--" - -"And what did de oder Milor do--did he tumble off?" - -"Yes, (hem!) at least I believe he did, but I don't know--we were all -so engaged, (hem!) in assisting Tonnerre--the last I saw of him was his -horse going through the Park Gate like a shot, for he can't ride." - -"Baskerville," interrupted Lord Glenmore, who had entered the box, -and, while talking with Lady Tilney, had overheard the latter part of -this veracious history,--"Baskerville, you must pardon me if I correct -your statement a little. _You_ may have _heard_ the circumstances -only related, _I saw_ them--and if ever a man deserved having his -neck broke, and losing a favourite horse, it was Tonnerre. I never -witnessed any thing like the manner in which he rode, not _to_ Lady -Hamlet Vernon's carriage, _but at_ D'Esterre, and if the latter had -not been the excellent horseman he is, I think there might have been -more serious results accruing to both than actually happened. However, -Tonnerre and his horse are quite well, for I met both to-day." Lord -Baskerville had a mode of dropping the corners of his mouth, raising -his chin, and turning up his eyes, whenever he wished to shew signs -of contempt; but too discreet to offend a person of Lord Glenmore's -calibre, he managed to suppress them in some measure; and having heard -out what Lord Glenmore had to say, turned without answering him to the -Comtesse Leinsengen. - -"Do not talk more about dat man, I pray you, I am tired to death of -his name," said the latter; "but tell me, Milor, vill you and Miladi -Baskerville meet me to-morrow at dinner? Miladi Tilney and myself are -going to do Sir William dere de honour to dine vid him, and vid our own -party." - -Lord Baskerville looked amazed, and before he could recover his -surprise, Sir William himself seemingly confirmed the strange -announcement, by facing round and assuring _Baskerville_, as he called -him, on the strength of many a good dinner before, that "he should be -delighted to see him; and Lady Baskerville too, I hope will confer -the same honour upon me as these ladies." Lord Baskerville, ere he -answered, directed a look of inquiry to the Comtesse Leinsengen, to -ascertain if the matter were really serious.--"Oh, you must come vid -me," said the Comtesse, "I positively vill have no excuse." - -"I am ever ready to obey your commands, Comtesse, you know, and--" - -"I am delighted to hear you say so," cried Sir William. (Lord -Baskerville drew up.) "And Lady Baskerville?" continued the former. - -"Hem! _I_ cannot _answer for Lady_ Baskerville, Sir William--but (hem! -hem!) I will certainly inform her of the invitation, and (hem!) should -she have no other engagement, (hem!) doubtless she will be most happy, -and (hem!) will wait upon you; (hem!) but dear me the Opera is ended," -looking at his watch, and turning to Lady Tilney. "Oh those tiresome -bishops--really I wish people would not meddle with what (hem!) they -have nothing to do,--we are always now deprived of half our ballet on -the Saturdays." (hem!) - -"_C'est vraiment ridicule_," murmured the Comtesse Leinsengen: "dere is -no country in de world where dis sort of foolish ting takes place but -in England." - -"It is rather an infringement upon our liberties, I will allow," -observed Lady Tilney, "to turn us out of our Opera boxes at a -particular hour." - -"Liberty--liberty--dat liberty of the subject is all a farce, chere -Miladi; it is all a make believe, as I often have de honour of telling -you. Lord Baskerville, vill you be so obliging--my schall." - -Lady Tilney, however, would not suffer the Comtesse to go till she -had spoken to her again on the subject of their _soirée_ at Lady -de Chere's. "The Duchess of Hermanton's night will be a very good -opportunity," she said; "to let the world know that we do not mingle in -societies of the kind; all the regulars, as they consider themselves, -look upon D'Hermanton House as head-quarters, and make a point of -attending like subalterns gaping for promotion; and if we are there -it will have the worst possible effect. Then again, such as we choose -to invite to Lady de Chere's, will understand what is meant, _sans -nous compromettre_, and hold off in future from engagements like the -D'Hermanton's. You know it would be unwise and impolitic to impart our -intentions to all indiscriminately who compose our circle; but we must -at the same time afford some guide for conduct. If we do as I propose -the affair will be very well understood, without our being unpleasantly -involved, and the system will answer well, n'êtes vous pas de mon -avis, chere Comtesse?"--"Peût-être qu'oui," was the Comtesse's answer, -accompanied by the habitual shrug of the shoulders; "and," continued -Lady Tilney, "I think there was every one at my house the other night -who ought to be invited. Shall I send Lady de Chere my list?" - -"I will see about dat; but first we must know if Miladi vil do as -we wish. Laissez-moi faire, j'arrangerai tout ça," and taking Lord -Baskerville's arm, she was leaving the box-- - -"But what shall we do about dat dinner to-morrow, chere Miladi?" she -added in a lower tone to Lady Tilney. - -"Oh go, by all means; he is well enough--will be so pleased that we may -do henceforth as we like with him, and it allows others to hope for the -same honour." - -"Vell, den, I vill go--remember Milor you are engaged to me to-morrow." -Lord Baskerville made one of his most refined bows. "And who else shall -we have?" asked the Comtesse of Lady Tilney. - -"Oh! I don't know; there are the Boileaus and Lord Gascoyne, and Prince -Luttermanne, and Lord Tonnerre." - -"Dose vill do very well; I vill tell dem if I see dem in de room. -Adieu, chere Miladi. Ve shall dine vid you to-morrow, Sir William," she -added as she left the box. - -"I am delighted to hear you say so!" replied the happy Sir William -Temple. - -"May this be true!--O may it--can it be;--Is it by any wonder -possible?" whispered Spencer Newcombe, who had heard the Comtesse -Leinsengen's last words, and now approached Sir William with affected -surprise. - -"Come, my master; if so, the great ones shall not have you all to -themselves," he continued: "I too will dine with you to-morrow. Lady -Tilney, are you of the party?" - -"Yes." - -"Why, where is the sign now? have ye e'er a calendar--where's the sign, -trow you?" Spencer continued saying. - -"The what?" asked Sir William. - -"The sign--Believe me there's a most secret power in that! Court any -woman in the right sign, Sir William, as you have done, and you shall -not miss." - -"I am delighted to hear you say so!" replied Sir William. - -"I believe he thinks you allude to the sign-post of an inn," whispered -Lord Boileau, who had joined the party, "and it suits well enough to a -dinner-giving man like him." Lady Tilney now prepared to leave the box; -and taking the arm of the Duke of Mercington, was followed by all the -men who had paid their visit and their court to her. - -Sir William seemed to look with pride on the world behind him, as he -mingled in the crowd; conscious of the mark of fashion which would from -the morrow be emblazoned on his brow; and in the hurry of the throng, -and in the quiet of his pillow, the glory of his future success and -progress alike presented itself to him that night in a thousand forms. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE DINNER. - - -When Lord Baskerville announced to Lady Baskerville the names of those -who composed Sir William Temple's dinner party, she was sufficiently -astonished; but felt there could be no compromise in being present, and -at once accepted his invitation. The affair being considered rather in -the light of a party to Richmond, or some similar gaiety, several of -the guests went together. Prince Luttermanne attended Lady Tilney; the -Boileaus joined Lady Hamlet Vernon; and Lord Baskerville engaged his -friend Lord Tonnerre to accompany himself and Lady Baskerville. - -As the carriage of the latter proceeded down ---- street, they passed -the church at the moment when Lord Albert D'Esterre was leaving the -door, after evening service. Lady Baskerville's quick eye immediately -recognized him, although mingled in a crowd of those denominated the -common people; and pointing him out to Lord Tonnerre, the latter asked, -in his usual tone of command, - -"What can _he_ be doing in that crowd?" - -"Isn't it Sunday?" rejoined Lord Baskerville, yawning. "He has been, I -suppose, (hem!) to some conventicle. (hem!)" - -"Yes, he looks like one of those d--d Methodists, who would ring people -to church from morning to night, by G--;" (Lord Tonnerre forgot that -swearing was no longer a fashionable vice) "they ought to be scouted -from society." - -"True," replied Lord Baskerville, "I think (hem!) that it would do a -great deal of good to society, if (hem!) they were all run up, _à la -lanterne_." - -"Ay, hang them--hang them as high as you can see," continued Lord -Tonnerre; "rid the land of them any how. There's my father--I wish _he_ -had them for once in his hands; there's not a stricter person on earth -than my father; he'll suffer no immorality, he'll have no profligacy -in the family; but if one of these canting rascals was ever known to -cross his door, or to be found on his estates, he'd make short work -with him--he'd send him away with marks which the fellow would carry -to his grave,--by G-- would he. All this comes, however, from the -manner in which we pass our Sundays. I hate foreigners and all their -d--d ways; but they act more sensibly than we do in regard to Sunday: -they let the people amuse themselves after church. It's right to go to -church, and all that,--that I'll allow; but I am sure the common people -would be much better afterwards with what is fitting for them, quoits, -or nine-holes, or cricket, or something to busy them with, instead of -going to Methodist meetings, where they turn saints, merely because -they have no better amusement; unless, indeed, it be the alehouse." - -"And there get drunk," remarked Lady Baskerville; "that would be -vastly better, vastly more moral. When you and Baskerville rule the -state, things will be much better managed, no doubt." This was said -half sneeringly; for Lady Baskerville for some reason was not in very -good humour. - -"Hem!" rejoined Lord Baskerville; "I must beg your Ladyship would limit -what you say to yourself. It is (hem!) a liberty I _never_ take _with -you_, to say what you _would_ or would _not_ do (hem!)" Upon this a -silence ensued in the trio; when a few minutes broke the awkwardness -occasioned by it, and they found themselves arrived at Sir William -Temple's door. - -Lord Tonnerre offered his arm to Lady Baskerville as they alighted; -while Lord Baskerville, to avoid the unfashionable appearance of -entering the room with his wife, stopped, seemingly for the purpose of -giving orders to his servants, till such time as he imagined he could -walk in alone. There were arrived of the party only Lady Tilney and -Prince Luttermanne. Lord Baskerville, having made his bow, retired -to a sofa, discomposed at finding that the Comtesse Leinsengen, on -whose appearance he had staked the whole of his consequence, and the -excuse of his presence, was not yet come. Lord Tonnerre too, displeased -that Sir William Temple continued to occupy Lady Baskerville with the -profusion of his acknowledgments for the honour done him, and that Lady -Tilney appeared too much engaged to notice any one, stood for some -moments in gloomy silence, when at length Lord Somerton entered. - -"How d'ye do, Somerton?--glad to see you," was Sir William's salutation -to his guest, as he held out a finger to him, and continued talking to -Lady Baskerville. - -"Tonnerre," said Lord Somerton, turning away from this brief reception -with a degree of contempt; "come aside, I have something to tell -you;" when a deep discussion on matters interesting and intelligible -to the former seemed to ensue, since it was productive of a partial -relaxation of the scowl which generally characterized his face when he -felt himself, as in the present instance, overlooked, or when subjects -indifferent to him, or above his comprehension, were alluded to. - -Lady Tilney, hitherto absorbed in her conversation with Prince -Luttermanne, now looked up, and addressing Lady Baskerville with an air -of protection, invited her to come and take the seat next to her. "What -a vastly pretty cap you have on!--do tell me where you got it; and, my -dear Lady Baskerville, if you have nothing better to do, pray don't -forget to come to me to-morrow night. Have you seen any thing of Lord -Albert D'Esterre to-day? What do _you_ think of him? _I_ can hardly -understand him yet; sometimes I think one thing, sometimes another. -They say he is a Methodist--how extraordinary! if he was not young, or -not handsome, or not _d'une bonne tournure_, one might suppose such a -thing; but as it is I don't believe it--do you?" - -"I have not seen enough of him to judge," was the cautious reply -(for Lady Baskerville could be cautious where so deep a stake was at -hazard as fashionable consideration); "but I think he rather affects -singularity." - -"Perhaps so; but then you know he will soon correct that fault when he -has lived a little longer amongst us. I have heard that he is engaged -to be married;--do you know if it is true?" - -"I did hear," said Lady Baskerville, "something about a Lady Adeline -Seymour, a cousin of his who has been brought up in the shades, and is -said to be a world's wonder of beauty, and purity, and perfection; but -the engagement was an affair of the papa's and mamma's, and probably -the parties themselves will hate each other in consequence." - -At this moment the Comtesse Leinsengen was announced, and then -followed Lord and Lady Boileau, Lady Hamlet Vernon, Mr. Spencer -Newcombe, and Lord Gascoigne, each received with that portion and kind -of welcome which marked a well-studied knowledge of Debrett on the part -of Sir William Temple, who felt himself the deity of the day, and who, -complimentary, facetious, pompous, _affairé_, and familiar by turns, -according to the _calibre_ of the person he addressed, moved about -the apartments like some presiding Joss or Amsterdam Cupid. The whole -party were at length assembled, the dinner announced, and the company -withdrew to enjoy the very best _artiste's_ best efforts, put forth on -an occasion so replete with honour and distinction to his _employé_. -Lord Baskerville contrived to place himself next to the Comtesse -Leinsengen, whose hand, in her _qualité d'ambassadrice_, the master of -the feast had shewn his skill in precedence by soliciting, as he led -the way to the dining-room; a circumstance, by the way, fortunate for -him on his _début_, for although Lord Baskerville's arm would have been -far more agreeable, yet the Comtesse would never have pardoned such a -neglect of her grade in favour of her dear friend Lady Tilney. - -Of the other arrangements of the party it would be unnecessary to -speak, and equally useless to catalogue the dinner itself. It is -known to all that in London, after the first few weeks of the season, -every one's table who gives a dinner is covered in exactly the same -way--there may be degrees of excellence in the flavour and science of -the dishes; but the things themselves are, as the Geneva traveller said -of travelling, "_toujours la même chose, toutes les villes sont les -mêmes, vous avez des maisons à droite et des maisons à gauche--et la -rue au milieu--c'est toujours la même chose_." - -It is true there are certain critical periods in a spring season, -in which nature's fruits, still immatured, are brought to perfection -by the fostering hand of man; and on these the deep and skilful in -gastronomy will seize as apt occasions for a display of superior taste -and refinement; then, and then only is it, as is well known, that -cucumbers are lawful, green peas to be suffered, and strawberries and -peaches tolerated; but beyond this there is even yet another point--"a -grace beyond the reach of art"--the very North Pole of elegance--the -paradox, it may be called, of the gastronomic system--it is to display -these productions when positively they are not to be got. Happy the man -who so succeeds--thrice happy Sir William, that on this day the stars -so ordered it, that while London was yet innocent of cucumbers or peas, -you should be profuse of both;--that when peaches and strawberries had -not so much as crossed the thoughts of the most refined, they too in -abundance graced your board. Oh! happy consummation of those honours, -which from the last evening seemed about to centre round your head, and -raise you to the pinnacle of gastronomy and of _ton_. During the first -moments of all dinners a very few monosyllables are uttered--a sort of -murmuring conversation then ensues between the parties nearest each -other,--till at last one individual more gifted or more hardy than the -rest hazards a remark across the table, and the talking becomes general. - -It was Lady Tilney who on the present occasion broke the monotony -of those half-audible sounds that whispered round the table. "Lord -Gascoigne," she said aloud, "I hope you are really going to put down -that vile newspaper, The ----, it is a disgrace to London." - -"I should have thought that you, Lady Tilney, would rather have upheld -a paper of its principles, and which affords such a proof of what you -always profess to have so much at heart--the liberty of the press." - -"You must pardon me, it has nothing to do with the liberty of the -press,--but a great deal with its abuse,--besides, the liberty of the -press applies only to politics--not to private affairs." - -"_C'est selon_," replied Lord Gascoigne with provoking suavity of -manner; "if we publish ourselves what we do, we court public remark." - -"She cannot forget or forgive," whispered Spencer Newcombe to Lord -Baskerville, "that she herself was once the target at which some of the -severest shots of this paper were sent." - -"How?" asked the latter. - -"Why, when, for party's sake, she was once about to take a step.... I -cannot tell you about it now--some other time," he added, as he turned -to Lady Boileau, who had asked the same question of him thrice. - -"Publish ourselves! my dear Lord," continued Lady Tilney to Lord -Gascoigne, "why we never do that if our actions attract notice from our -situation." - -"They should be more looked to," was the reply of the latter, -interrupting her; "if there is nothing to censure, the satirist's -occupation is gone." - -"Vraiment Milor treats de subject en moraliste, and as if himself vas -a paragon of excellence dat could not err. Pray, Milor, do you always -tink so wisely on vat you do, dat you never do nothing wrong yourself?" - -"Oh, do wrong--yes a thousand times a day, Comtesse,--but when I do, -I do not quarrel with the world because it will not think me right, -nor if it call me a fool or a knave, am I angry--for perhaps it is a -truth--at any rate, other and better men than I have been called the -same." - -"It is an execrable paper," said Lady Tilney; "and ought to be burnt by -the hangman." - -"It is an abominable ting," said the Comtesse Leinsengen, "and would -not be suffered in any country but England."--Lady Tilney would have -interrupted her, but the Comtesse was bent on proceeding: "I repeat, -as I have often had de honor to tell you, dat de English are a people -of contradictions; dey talk always of dere great _purité_,--dere -_virtue_--and den suffer so quietly all dose vile tings to be said of -dem in de public prints." Lord Gascoigne, who did not care one straw -what was said either of himself or any one else, perceiving he had -sufficiently fanned the growing indignation of Lady Tilney by his -apparent callousness to public attack, for a moment remained silent, -amused to hear the topic discussed in other hands. Lady Tilney loved -argument, and for its sake often adopted opinions which at other times -she would as strongly have opposed. - -"If the things alluded to _are done_," she continued, addressing -herself to the Comtesse Leinsengen, "they are _better told_--I always -like every thing to be told." - -"Vid de exception always, ma chere amie, of vat concerns one's-self," -replied the Comtesse sharply. - -"But I deny that there is any truth," rejoined Lady Tilney, not -appearing to notice this last remark; "I deny that there is any truth -in any thing that comes through such an abominable channel as that -paper; all its remarks are the offspring of impertinent malice or -envious vulgarity, and all its facts, falsehoods." - -"Hem!" said Lord Baskerville, in his slowest and most imposing tone, -"these things have always been, Lady Tilney, and always will be. Some -satirist or other, (hem!) has always lived since the Flood, from -Lycophron down to our own day, to lash the vice and follies of the -age, as _they_ say; but in fact to indulge that spleen which is common -to the canaille at all periods. And after all, what does it signify? -Nobody thinks about any thing that is said of any body--hem!--nine days -after it is said--hem!" - -"If I ever saw _my_ name in that d--d paper," exclaimed Lord Tonnerre, -while his brow was knit in tremendous frowns, "if ever allusion were -made to me--the writer should eat his words." - -"My dear Tonnerre," rejoined Lord Gascoigne, once more taking up the -conversation, "you would find he has an ostrich's stomach. But why -should such a toy trouble you?" - -"By G----, the writer shall suffer," replied Lord Tonnerre, furiously, -"he shall suffer--he shall pay--" - -"Who," asked Lady Boileau quietly, "who shall pay?" - -"The scoundrel--the ---- who has dared to use my name," answered Lord -Tonnerre, after several efforts at utterance, which his passion for -some moments impeded. - -"But you must discover _who_ is the _who_," replied Lord Gascoigne, -with provoking calmness of manner.--"Junius himself was never hid so -successfully as is this writer. You will find it fencing in the dark, -Tonnerre, if you meddle with him.--But I see you are angry; now take my -advice, when you are so use this antidote--it is an excellent rule I -learned from my grandfather--repeat your alphabet; and that being done, -your anger will be over too." Lord Tonnerre's face moved convulsively -in every muscle, and his whole frame seemed to writhe under the words -of Lord Gascoigne. - -"He boils like a pot," whispered Spencer Newcombe. - -"Oh, do not vex him, pray," said Lady Baskerville; "he is _only -nervous_." - -"Mad, mad!" rejoined Lord Gascoigne, "pray take heed." With many hems -and ha's, Sir William Temple remarked, that for his part he thought it -cruel to delight in mischief; that to him it always appeared a most -uncharitable practice to wound another's feelings--and somewhat rude -too; fit only for the vulgar. - -"The pleasure or amusement," he continued, "of saying ill-natured -things is quite beyond my comprehension--quite inconceivable. I -remember, when I used to live a good deal at D---- House, there was a -rule established that no one should notice, remark, or seem to observe -what was passing;--it was considered so very vulgar to interfere -with other people's affairs--all were left at large without account -or question--and the consequence was, there never was any thing so -enchanting since the world began as that society--so _suave_, so -equal, so gentle, so serene;--not a voice ever heard louder than a -whisper--every one so well amused, every one so well employed, that -_ennui_ was unknown. There never was any thing to compare to that -society." - -"_De graces!_" exclaimed the Comtesse Leinsengen, as Sir William -concluded this effusion of his reminiscences, "_de graces!_ do not tell -us, Sir Villiam, of _vat_ VAS: to talk of _tings_ gone being delightful -is like telling a woman who is _passée_, 'I remember when you were so -admired.' De ting to talk of is _to-day_." - -"Oh, of course," rejoined Sir William, taking the Comtesse's last words -_au pied de la lettre_, "of course the society of to-day--the society -_here_--is _par excellence_, the most delightful in the world." A nod -here passed between Spencer Newcombe and Lord Gascoigne, indicative of -Sir William having escaped from his blunders with more adroitness than -they had given him credit for; and at the same moment the ladies rose -to depart. - -"_Vraiment_," exclaimed the Comtesse Leinsengen, as she entered the -drawing-rooms, "I do tink, as we are de deities of dis fête, ces -messieurs might for once have broken through dere abominable customs, -and accompanied us; but dat terrible Lord Somerton and dat young milor -Tonnerre would tink, I suppose, de constitution in danger, if dey did -not remain at de table after de ladies.--I vonder, Miladi Baskerville, -comme Milor est votre éléve, dat you do not teach him better." - -"Dear Comtesse, not I, I assure you--it is quite enough to take care -of one's-self; I never interfere with other people's affairs--nothing -would induce me to undertake any body's education." - -"I believe you are very wise," said Lady Boileau; "the _laissez faire_ -and the _laissez aller_ is the best rule." - -"I do not quite agree with you in that," said Lady Tilney; "how could -we have a pleasant or a distinguished society if that system was -allowed to prevail? how could we--" - -"La! what sinifies dat?" said the Comtesse Leinsengen, as she arranged -her _bérin_ at the glass; "_Vos milliners ne valent rien_--I have just -sent to Paris, and then I shall have a _coiffure_ that will not be so -hideous." - -"Did you observe the Duchesse D'Hermanton's last dress?" asked Lady -Baskerville; "she did think it was perfection; one feather on the top -of another, flower upon flower, flounce upon flounce, jewel upon jewel, -till she was one mass of moving millinery--I never saw such a figure -since the days of Lady Aveling's ambassadress' glory." - -"Vat sinifie vat dose women do? D'ailleurs les Angloises ont toujours -singé les modes." In this, and similar conversation, passed the hour of -separation in the drawing-rooms, while at the dinner-table the subject -of discussion possessed as little interest as is generally found in -society so constituted. - -"Baskerville, Boileau, Gascoigne," said Sir William Temple, as he -resumed his chair after the departure of the ladies, "will you not come -up, and in the short absence we are doomed to suffer from our fair -companions, let us find comfort in this poor earthly Nectar?" (Sir -William believed his wines to be the best in creation.) "Baskerville, -what wine do you take?" - -"Claret," was the reply of the latter, accompanied by a look of -surprise which seemed to say, "of course."--"Did you ever hear such a -question!" he added in an under-tone to Lord Boileau. - -"Never--he might as well have asked if one would try Chambertin -after _Truites à l'Aurore_, or _Clos de Voguet_ after _Bécasses à la -Luculle_!" rejoined Lord Baskerville. - -"Fools were made for jests to men of sense," whispered Spencer Newcomb, -"and I know of no one who affords more amusement than my friend there, -Sir William." - -"How officious and _affairé_ he was in contriving this party," said -Lord Gascoigne. - -"And how puzzled, lame, and lost in prosecuting it!" rejoined the other. - -"He is a most substantial ass," said Lord Baskerville. - -"Tonnerre," asked Sir William at the moment, and affecting to vary the -theme, according to the taste of the person, "Do you know which is the -favourite for the Derby?" - -"Gad, he turns his words as many ways as a lathe," whispered Lord -Gascoigne again--"understands all subjects alike, and is as learned as -the occult philosopher of Hudibras." - -"And as much renowned for profound and solid stupidity," rejoined the -latter. A laugh escaped at these words; and as their "ha! ha! ha!" -passed round, Sir William laughed louder. - -"Very good that, Spencer, I just caught the end of it--the point is -always in the tail you know." - -"He caught it," said Lord Gascoigne, repeating the words, and looking -at Spencer Newcomb; "do you think he did?" - -"If it was with his mouth, he might certainly--for it is large enough -to catch any thing--and he is welcome; I give him my jest for his -dinner, it is the only return I ever make." - -"And you thrive on your bargain generally, Spencer, I should suppose." - -"How long do you think I took from Penzance to town?" said Lord -Tonnerre aloud; and without waiting for any reply added,--"Eighteen -hours by ----, in hack chaises too, changing every stage." - -"_I_ do not conceive it much to do," rejoined Lord Baskerville. "I -remember, (hem!) once leaving town seven hours after the mail; and -though I had rips of horses, I arrived, (hem!) at twenty minutes before -his Majesty's stage coach, (hem!)" - -"Well," said Lord Gascoigne, "well, Basky, that is excellent,--ha! ha! -ha! that is excellent,--ha! ha! ha!" The abbreviation of his patronymic -was always distasteful to Lord Baskerville, and on this occasion he not -only felt his dignity compromised by the license of Lord Gascoigne's -address, but was himself offended by the covert suspicion conveyed -of the substantiality of the fact he had related; turning therefore -away with an air of contempt, he addressed himself to another of the -party. Lord Gascoigne, however, was not so easily to be silenced, and -exchanging looks with those who had watched the scene, added, with very -provoking calmness, - -"Basky, you were not offended, I hope, with any thing I said, I meant -only--" - -"Not at all," replied Lord Baskerville, the corners of his mouth -dropping in the exact angle of scorn by which, as a mathematical man of -_ton_, he would have described his contempt of the speaker,--"not at -all, Gascoigne; I beg you won't think of it;"--and he turned again to -the party with whom he was conversing. - -"Beat--beat, Gascoigne," exclaimed Spencer Newcomb.--Lord Baskerville -looked around with a dignified air, and for a moment silence ensued, -not however without a wink passing from Spencer Newcomb, implying that -they had gone as far as was advisable. But Lord Gascoigne was not to be -stopped without a farewell shot, as he added, "Well, Baskerville, we -start at eight, and breakfast at nine, is it not so?" The latter again -tried to look grave, but obliged at length in self-defence to join in -the laugh which followed these words, he let fall for an instant the -mask that too often covered his most trivial actions, and appeared the -good-hearted good-humoured creature nature had made him. - -"Somerton," said Sir William Temple, breaking the subject of -conversation, "do you remember when you were at my chateau in the -north?" - -"Yes," was the dry reply he received from one who, though he eat -his dinners, held him in the most sovereign disdain, and this "yes" -sounded harshly on the ears of Sir William, living as he did in the -praises bestowed on his establishments, and never losing an opportunity -of referring to the subject of them; nor was he less annoyed, as he -observed a whisper pass between his northern guest and Lord Tonnerre, -to whom Lord Somerton had turned after his very short and laconic -reply, and added, - -"The fellow had one covey of partridges, two dozen of Burgundy, and a -mistress; I made love to the one, drank the other, killed the third, -and then quitted." - -"Good," said Spencer Newcomb, who had overheard what passed; "he would -have pardoned you, however, the first, if you had praised the others." - -"No doubt he would," replied Lord Somerton, "but on my conscience I -could not do it, and I presume he feels this as well as myself, for -I shall make him give me a dinner the first day in the week I am -disengaged." Thus fared Sir William Temple in the hands of those for -whom he had lavished, and _incessantly_ lavished, an expense which, if -properly directed, would have rendered him an amiable, respectable, and -happy individual. As it was, he spent his money on objects despicable -in themselves, and for persons absolutely turning him into ridicule -while enjoying his bounty. - -The party from the dining-table soon after arose, some having -attained the object for which alone they came, the enjoyment of -a dinner; others who had yet a further motive, ascended to the -drawing-rooms, and after passing there sufficient time to complete -arrangements, arrange departures, and fix dry points that needed -discussion for the morrow's amusement or occupation, took their -departure also, leaving Sir William Temple to feed on the empty -honour which remained to him, of having entertained in his house in -May-fair so distinguished a party; none of whom, however, beyond the -dinner-living Lord Somerton, Spencer Newcomb, and one or two lordlings, -ever intended to think more of him for the future. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE CONTRAST. - - -On the evening of Sir William Temple's dinner-party, the invitation -to which Lord Albert had declined, he retired at an early hour to -his study; and having closed his door, he sat some minutes with his -head reclining on his hands, endeavouring to shut out the frivolous -insignificances of many late past evenings, and to recal those of a -very different description and tendency. - -A sweet and silvery tone of feeling analogous to a fine Wilson that -hung opposite to his writing-table, shed a serene, self-satisfying -sensation over his mind; it might be a false complacency, yet -complacency for the time being it was--and he opened his writing-box, -in the lid of which was a portrait. This portrait represented a very -youthful girl intently busied in copying a bust, the likeness of -himself. A flush passed over his countenance, his eyes sparkled, and a -genuine sensation of rapture thrilled through his heart, as he said, - -"Oh! how superior to all I now see around me--young, innocent, -intelligent, the dignity of human nature is here! Gazing at this image, -I can never err; it would recal me to the path of rectitude were I -ever so inclined to swerve from it." At that moment a letter caught -his attention; it was still unanswered--again he coloured, for it had -remained so since the preceding morning; and such a letter! Now with an -eagerness that would have redeemed the slight, he actually kissed the -opened page; and previous to replying to it, re-perused the following -contents of - - LADY ADELINE SEYMOUR'S LETTER. - - "I think it a long time, dearest Albert, since I have heard from you. - But then you are so busy, and have so many things to do; whereas I - have nothing to do, but to count up minutes, days, and hours; yet - this is so wrong, that I blame myself even for thinking, much more - for writing the thought; and would blot out the dissatisfied words, - but that I promised you should know truly, and without disguise, what - really passed in my mind. - - "After what I heard good Mr. Adams preach last Sunday, how dare I - wish to hurry on time, when I make so poor a use of it? Indeed, dear - Albert, when I think seriously, I do not wish it; but when I feel that - we are parted, and yield to that feeling, why then I am a wayward - creature. Does not this prove, my dear Albert, how cautiously we ought - to look into our hearts, since out of them are the issues of life? I - will do so; I will try to do so, if God will help me; for it is only - by this watching that I shall render myself at all worthy of you. - Mamma said to me the other day: - - "'My dear love, remember that marriage is a state necessarily - imposing many duties, and accumulating many cares; this in its - happiest instances must ever be the case; it is wisely ordered that - it should be so. But it is a state honoured by God and man, and opens - upon a wide field for self-improvement. If entered upon in this view, - it brings with its pains many delights and consolations, both for - this world and the next; but if it is engaged in rashly, merely for - the purpose of running a more unchecked career, or for the unworthy - purposes of aggrandizement in rank and fortune apart from nobler - views, it never fails to produce disappointment, and it may be, - disgust of life and endless misery.' - - "What a terrible picture, my Albert! But I cannot conceive it - possible that any body should marry from any motive but attachment, - and therefore I can hardly persuade myself that any of these awful - consequences are likely to attend on marriage; only my Bible shews me - the insufficiency of all mere mortal trusts; and Mamma, I know, never - says what she does not think is true; therefore I must try and prepare - myself for becoming such a wife to you as will secure our mutual - felicity. The little book we exchanged on the day you left us, I read - morning and evening, and as soon as it is finished I begin it again; - so when you are reading yours, you may be certain we are pronouncing - the same words, thinking the same thoughts, lifting up our hearts - together to the God who made us. - - "How thankful we ought to be for good books; are they not messengers - from heaven? And yet how we slight them. Often, when engaged in my - morning's duty of reading, my wandering mind turns so frequently - to drawing, to music, or any other exercise, that at length I - have punished myself by determining not to have recourse to these - recreations till I can moderate my ardour for them, and enjoy them - only as recreations; they _ought not_ to be more--all beyond is - idolatry. I have of late, too, engaged myself in active duties among - the poor around our neighbourhood; and my rides to their different - habitations give me such additional health and spirits, that I am - always ready to laugh at all Mr. Foley's silly jokes. My heart is so - light, and I feel so happy--I see no end to all the diverting things - I have in view, and some day or another when, please God, I am really - your wife, all the schemes I form for the benefit of those within the - circle of my influence will be fully realized. - - "What an extended sphere of usefulness will then be mine, and oh! - my Albert! what an awful responsibility too will then attach to my - situation! I pray daily that I may be enabled to meet it as I ought. - What I grudge most is, the time which I am now frequently forced to - lose, in being civil to our dull neighbours here; and I do confess - that to sit amused by Miss Grimsdale's side, while she talks over - the last county ball, or to listen to old Lady Henniker's history - of her ménage with becoming patience, is a trial for which no - self-complacency in the idea, that I am making a sacrifice to oblige - others, does in any degree compensate. But Mamma smiles when she hears - me answering _tout a rebours_, and sees my fingers entangling the - silks, and tells me afterwards that we are not to live to ourselves, - and that in fact to please others, when not neglecting, any positive - duty, is a minor virtue. I am sure she is right--but, dear Albert, I - feel on such occasions how difficult it is to be good! Mr. Foley, to - whom I expressed myself thus the other day, told me, 'I talked a great - deal of nonsense, though I was a very charming person altogether,' - and ended by asking me seriously--'What wrong I thought it possible - I could do, living as I did?' How ignorant he must be of the state - of the human heart, not to know that our best efforts are faulty, - our purest actions imperfect! I stared at him, and then attempted to - explain to him that all our thoughts, words, and actions, are marked - with inherent error. He stared at me in return, and, looking at me - incredulously, asked 'do you really mean what you say?' - - "'Most assuredly,' I replied; 'can any one mean otherwise?' Then he - looked very grave indeed, sighed heavily, and said, 'it was a sad - thing to see one so fair and young imbued with such false ideas--ideas - which in the end would make me wretched.' I laughed, as I assured him - that it was he that was deceived, and who would be wretched; that as - for myself, I was the gayest, happiest creature upon earth; and all - I had to dread was, loving the world too well, and seeing it in too - fair a light. I had not a corner of my heart, I said, unoccupied, or - a minute in the day unemployed; and besides that, my reliance upon - God made me feel as if I never could be perfectly unhappy under any - circumstances. - - "But no sooner were these words uttered, than my heart smote me, - for I thought of _you_, dear Albert, and suddenly a cloud seemed to - pass over me, and my deceitful heart sickened at the thought of the - possibility of losing you; and then I knew how ill I was prepared to - yield that perfect obedience which we are called upon to yield to the - will of heaven.--I believe my countenance betrayed somewhat of this - self-condemning spirit, for Mr. Foley quickly asked, whilst fixing his - searching eyes on mine, 'What, is there _nothing_ which could make you - miserable?' and I trembled, and blushed, and felt a tear of shame rise - in my eye, as I answered: - - "'Perhaps I deceive myself, and think of myself too highly. - Perhaps--in short--at all events, I know that I am _trying_ so to - feel, and so to think.' He laughed contemptuously, saying: - - "'I guessed how it was--poor Lady Adeline! this false system is - spreading fearfully indeed!' What could he mean? Mamma told me on my - repeating to her this conversation, 'that to many persons Mr. Foley - would be a dangerous man; but not to you, my child; and I have a - love for that wayward creature, the son of the dearest friend I ever - possessed, which makes me incline to overlook his faults, and hope - that he will amend them. Who knows but the mode of life we lead may - be the means of sowing some good seed in his heart? However, my dear - child, encourage not his conversation on such points.' I believe Mamma - is right, for notwithstanding my dislike of his irreligious tenets, he - is so well-informed, and so very diverting, that I cannot help being - entertained by him. And in many respects I assure you, Albert, he is a - good man, and general report bespeaks him such. He is very charitable; - is kind to people in distress; and goes regularly to church, when he - is with us--is not all this very unaccountable with his strange way - of talking to me? I do not understand it, and indeed it is not worth - thinking much about, one way or the other. Write to me, dear Albert, - and tell me what your opinion is upon this subject. I wish in all - things to conform to your wishes, and to model my opinion on yours: - for I well know your excellent principles and unerring judgment. - To-morrow, I allow myself to return to the delight of copying your - dear bust, '_O che festa!_'--Sometimes (I am almost ashamed of telling - you) I divert myself with putting my caps and hats on it, and please - myself with the idea that it is very like _me_--do not laugh and call - me 'foolish child!' Now I dislike that _you_ should call me child; - remember the day you receive this I shall be seventeen, so put on all - your gravity and consider me with due respect. - - "The menagerie is thriving; I visit our pets every day, and you will - find them in fine condition when you return,--when will that be? I - wish the time were come, don't you? Good night, good night, for there - is no end to this writing. I must end. Again good night. Dearest - Albert, I am, heart and soul, your own - - "ADELINE SEYMOUR." - -"Sweet, pure Adeline!" cried Lord Albert, "how shall I answer -this letter." He seized a pen, and in the first glow of fondness -and admiration, which such a letter and such a portrait before him -inspired, he filled two pages, not less tender or sincere than those -which had been addressed to himself: when he was suddenly disturbed by -hearing a bustle and violent clattering of horses in the street, and at -the same time the voices of some of his own servants. This increasing, -he rang the bell to inquire the cause, and no one answering, he at -length opened the door of an apartment and called to the porter, -asking what was the matter? He was answered, that a carriage had been -overturned opposite his door, and it was wished to bring the lady who -had suffered from the accident into his Lordship's house. - -"By all means, immediately," Lord Albert exclaimed; "afford every -assistance possible;" and in a few instants a lady was borne in by two -domestics. She was immediately placed, apparently insensible, on a -couch in an adjoining apartment. The female attendants were summoned -to her aid, and Lord Albert himself supported her head on his breast: -"Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "it is Lady Hamlet Vernon! Send off -directly for Doctor Meynell." A stream of blood flowed over her face, -and in order to ascertain where she was wounded it was necessary to let -down her hair, which fell in glossy masses over her neck and shoulders. -The glass of the carriage window, against which Lady Hamlet Vernon had -fallen, was the cause of the catastrophe; and though the injury was -not found to be dangerous, the wound had been sufficiently severe to -occasion a suffusion of blood. The physician soon arrived, and having -examined the extent of the evil, applied remedies and administered -restoratives to the terrified Lady Hamlet Vernon, who was shortly after -restored to her senses, and enabled to explain the cause of her having -met with so dangerous an accident. - -"She was returning," she said, "from Sir William Temple's -dinner-party, when her coachman, whom she supposed was intoxicated, -drove furiously, and the carriage coming in contact with the -curb-stone at the corner of the street, overturned, was dashed with -violence against the pavement, and broken to pieces." This account -was corroborated by her footmen, who had miraculously escaped unhurt. -Lady Hamlet then expressed her thanks at having received such prompt -and kind assistance, and Doctor Meynell having pronounced it as his -opinion, that if she remained quiet for a few days, she would find no -disagreeable effects result from the accident, and that she might with -safety be removed to her own house, Lord Albert's carriage was ordered -to convey her thither. "I am happy, indeed, to think it is thus," said -Lord Albert; "and that I have been of the least use is most gratifying -to me." - -This adventure, related in a few words, occupied an hour or more in -its actual occurrence; and Lord Albert had had leisure to remark the -symmetry of form and feature for which Lady Hamlet Vernon had been so -long celebrated. He might have beheld Lady Hamlet for ever, rouged and -dressed in public, and have passed her by unnoticed; but when he beheld -her pale, dishevelled, in pain, and dependent on him at the moment for -relief, he thought her exquisitely fair, and there entered a degree of -romantic illusion in this accident which roused his fancy, while her -sufferings touched the friendly feelings of his nature. - -As he assisted her to her carriage, they passed through the room -where he had been sitting previous to her arrival; the candles were -still burning, and his papers lay in confusion around, the writing-box -was open, in the lid of which was the portrait of Lady Adeline. Lady -Hamlet Vernon pausing, complained of a momentary feeling of faintness, -and threw herself on a chair close to the writing-table; her eyes in -an instant were rivetted on the picture, and at the same moment Lord -Albert's hand closed it from her view. There was nothing that demanded -secrecy in his possessing Lady Adeline's picture. His engagement to his -cousin was generally known, and his having her portrait, therefore, -was no offence against propriety; but every body who has loved will -understand the feeling, that the sacredness of their heart's affections -is broken in upon, if an indifferent or casual eye rest upon a treasure -of the kind. Lady Hamlet Vernon spoke not, but her looks testified what -they had seen; while he remained confused, and seemed glad when she -proposed moving again to the carriage. - -"I am afraid," she said, her voice trembling as she spoke, "I am -afraid my accident has been the occasion of breaking in upon your -retirement, and disturbing you out of a most delightful reverie. I -shall regret this the more if it makes you hate me altogether--but the -fault was not mine." - -"Hate you! Lady Hamlet Vernon--hatred and Lady Hamlet Vernon are two -words that cannot by any accident be connected together." - -"Ah! would that your words were as true as they are courteous," she -replied mournfully; "but courtesies, alas! _imply_ an interest that -they do not mean. Do not, however, let me detain you, Lord Albert; it -rains"-- As he still lingered at the door of the carriage, which they -had reached, and in which she now entered, he added, "You will at least -give me leave to enquire for you to-morrow?" which was all he had time -to say, as the carriage was driven rapidly away. - -Lord Albert returned to his room, with a confusion of images chasing -each other in such quick succession through his mind, that though he -resumed his pen to finish his letter to Lady Adeline, he found it -difficult to do so; and he was conscious that the few words which he -added were in such a different tone, and so little in keeping with the -previous part, that he finished abruptly, and, folding and sealing -his letter, closed the box that contained the miniature, and throwing -himself back in his chair, mused in vacancy of thought till slumber was -overpowering him. Without once adverting to Lady Adeline's book, he -hastened to lose in sleep the feeling of dissatisfaction which had so -suddenly possessed him. - -On the following morning, when Lady Hamlet Vernon arose, feeling -little of the accident of the preceding evening, and having taken -particular pains with her toilette, she cast a glance of complacency -at her reflected image in the mirror, and, descending to her boudoir, -placed herself on a sofa, spread with embroidered cushions, folded a -velvet _couvre-pied_ over her feet, ordered a table stored with books -to be placed within her reach, on which also rested a guitar and a -vase of flowers, and gave way to a train of reflections and feelings -unaccountably called up by the occurrences of the previous evening. -Lady Hamlet Vernon was a person who had read, and did read, at _times_; -but in the present instance, when calling for her books, she intended -no farther use of them beyond casual allusion to their contents, and -what their appearance might avail to give an interest in regard to -herself. - -She lay with her arm resting on a pillow, and her ears attentively -listening to every cabriolet that passed, eagerly anticipating a visit -from Lord Albert. She twice looked at her watch; once she struck it, to -know if its sound answered to the hour its hand designated.--"Surely," -she said, with some impatience, "he must at least inquire for me?--and -it is late--late for a person of Lord Albert's early habit--it is -really three o'clock." At that moment a short decided knock at the -door roused her attention. Her hand was on the bell in an instant, -lest the servants might deny her--but in another the door opened, and -_not_ Lord Albert, but the pale and melancholy Frank Ombre entered. The -revulsion from pleasure to disappointment occasioned by the appearance -of this visitor, and which displayed itself in Lady Hamlet Vernon's -features, was ingeniously ascribed by her to a sudden pain in her head, -the consequence, she said, of her accident the preceding night; which -accident she hastened to detail, and was gratified by the homage of -regrets, most poetically expressed by Mr. Ombre, who remarked that the -danger of this occurrence was transferred from herself to her admirers. - -"The beautiful languor which it has cast over your person has produced -a varied charm more inimical to our peace than even the lightning of -your eyes. What a fortunate man that Lord Albert was, to be on the -very spot to render you assistance! There are some persons, as we all -know, who are born felicitous--they please without caring to please; -they render services without thinking what they are doing, or even -being interested in reality about the persons whom they serve; they -are reckoned handsome without one regularly beautiful feature, and -pronounced clever, superior, talented, without ever doing any thing to -prove it. But in that, perhaps, lies their wisdom--one may be _every -thing_ so long as one never proves one's-self _nothing_." - -"True, there are such people in the world, I believe; but do you really -mean to say"--(and she almost blushed.) - -"I never mean, or can mean, to say any thing that is disagreeable to -you".... - -"Oh, it is not I who am interested in what he _is_, or is _not_; but, -to confess the truth, a very dear friend of mine, a charming young -person, takes an interest in him, and I should like to know if he is -worthy of that interest before her affections are further engaged." - -"Ah! my dear Lady Hamlet Vernon," replied Mr. Ombre, "there is nobody -like you--I always said so. You know _I never flatter_; but you are so -disinterested, always thinking about other people, always so kindly -busy where you can be of any use; so unlike the world in general, in -short, that it quite spoils one for living in it." - -"Well, this is a point we shall not dispute about, my dear Mr. Ombre, -only tell me what you know of Lord Albert D'Esterre? what are his -tastes, his habits, his pursuits, his politics?" - -"Of himself I can tell you little; with his father I was very intimate -long ago, and I believe, somehow or other, people do always contrive -to be like either father or mother, some time or another in their -life. Of the father I could tell you, that there did not exist a more -polished or high-bred man, a term which you know is not always justly -applicable to persons of high rank; one very well versed in literature -too, at least for the peerage in that day, and so long as he continued -in public life, no one acted more to the general satisfaction of people -than my Lord Tresyllian. Of the mother there is little to say, except -that she was--nay is, for aught I know to the contrary--a very good -sort of person; who was never known to make any noise, save once, in -her life, and that certainly was not on a judicious occasion, for -it was when the famous Bellina, the dancer, was _attachée_ to the -suite of her husband during his embassy at ----. Then indeed Lady -Tresyllian did make some very unadvised stir, and contrived that the -whole court should remark upon the subject; but her husband, who was -the most polite man in the world, as I have said before, represented -to her the inutility of such conduct, pointed out how such a lady, -and such a one, conducted herself in similar situations; stated that -these sort of things always happened, and were only unpleasant when -they were injudiciously managed, and in short the affair was amicably -adjusted; an affair which happened so long ago, that it is only some -old chroniclers like myself who have any recollection of it. - -"After Lord Tresyllian's return to England, he continued to fill -several official situations as long as his friends, or his party -rather, as those are called who contrive to hang together for some -interest,--their own or their country's, it matters not--continued in -office--and on their retiring, his Lordship retired also: I suppose to -preserve his consistency, or because his talents were not needed in -the new arrangement. Since then, gout and disappointed ambition have -contributed to make him a recluse from the busy world of fashion; and -in the magnificence of his princely fortune, and in the society of -a chosen few, who have shared his fate, or depended on his interest -in their political career, his existence is now passed, settling the -balance of Europe in his closet, opposing his Majesty's ministers (as -long as they shall not include his own party) in the senate, and on -every other occasion, and haranguing every assembly of disappointed -patriots in his own county, of which he is lord lieutenant. - -"Of Lord Tresyllian's patriotism I presume none doubt--of his judgment -and good taste in politics, from the last-mentioned fact, while holding -his present situation, perhaps there may be some question. But he has -considerable parliamentary interest, and will therefore always have -some who will think all he says or does right. His eldest son Osberton -we all know follows in his father's line of opposition; glad, I dare -say, to be saved the trouble of acting or thinking for himself. I need -not tell you more of him--in short, there is nothing to tell, but his -party. What Lord Albert D'Esterre's will be, remains to be proved; -I mean in the only way people think a man's being any thing is of -consequence, namely the part he will take in public life. He inherits -wealth from Lady Tresyllian, and so far will be independent of his -father; but he is too young, I should think, to escape the toils that -will be laid for a young member, and therefore we shall soon see him -engaged on one side or the other, as a tool of party. By the bye, what -says Lady Tilney of him for that?" Here another knock announced another -arrival, and Mr. Ombre rose to depart. - -"Pray, my dear Mr. Ombre, do not run away; I should be so delighted if -you would stay and help to keep the conversation alive, I am too weak -to do any thing but listen. Indeed my poor head tells me that I ought -not to do that." - -"I would not stay a moment longer on any account--not for the world," -was Mr. Ombre's reply, gently pressing her extended hand; "I am sure I -have talked too much already. Lord Albert D'Esterre," (for it was he -who entered), "I request you will not be so agreeable as you usually -are, for our fair friend feels the effect of her accident last night; -and I am sure she ought not to be amused, unless being put to sleep -be called amusement. If I were her nurse I would prescribe a quieting -draught and bed, as to a tired child; and so I take my leave and give -my advice without any fee: it is always the cheapest thing in the world -you know;" and he went away at the very proper moment, having left -behind him the character of being the most agreeable man in the world. - -"I should have come sooner," said Lord Albert, "to inquire for you, -Lady Hamlet Vernon, but I was afraid of being too early; and I really -put a restraint on my wishes in not being at your door much sooner; -for I was very anxious to know you had not suffered from the shock you -received last night." - -"I have suffered, certainly," she replied, blushing, "but not to -any alarming degree; a day or two of confinement to my sofa, and Dr. -Meynell assures me I shall be quite able to go about again as usual. In -the mean time, here are my friends," pointing to the books, "who are -ever at hand to entertain me." - -"And surely," Lord D'Esterre replied, "there are a thousand living -friends also, alike ready to endeavour to make the hours pass sweetly; -nevertheless, I honour those who can be independent of society for -entertainment." - -Lady Hamlet Vernon saw she had guessed rightly, and went on to say, -sighing as she spoke, "The fact is, that London crowds are not society, -that the whole routine of a town life unsatisfactory; and that every -circumstance, depending upon a mere pursuit of dissipation, is in -itself necessarily an alienation, for the time at least in which we -are engaged in it, from all our higher and better enjoyments; but then -when one has lost all on whom one depended for comfort, and support, -and advice; when one is left alone, a heart-broken thing upon the wide -world, misjudged by some, condemned by many, flattered it may be by a -few, there is such a stormy ocean, such a desert waste outspread to -view, that the heart seeks refuge from the alternative in a multitude -of minor trifles, which leave no leisure to feel, still less to -reflect; and hurrying on from hour to hour, one passes life away as -chance directs." - -Lady Hamlet Vernon did not know to whom she was speaking, or she would -have spoken in a very different tone. She had heard of refinement and -morality, she could even admire both; but to religious principle she -was a stranger. She paused after having uttered the last words, and, -looking in Lord Albert's countenance as she waited for a reply, read -there a varying expression, the meaning of which she was at a loss to -interpret. At last he spoke, and said with deep earnestness, which -failed not to attract her attention, although she was not prepared to -understand the import of his words: - -"Is it possible! then I grieve for you indeed." As he uttered this -brief sentence he took up a book, unconscious of what he was doing; and -opening the title-page, read "Tremaine." Lady Hamlet Vernon had had -recourse to her salts, to her handkerchief; and then, as if repressing -her starting tears, she asked, "What do you think of Tremaine?--is it -not charming?--Do you know I have thought the hero was like you." - -"I hope not; I would not be like that man on any account whatever." - -"No!--and why?" - -"Why, because I think false refinement the most wretched of human -possessions; and all refinement is false which converts enjoyment to -pain; nay, I deny that it is refinement; it is only the sophistry of a -diseased mind, the excrescence of a beautiful plant; however, the work -is a work of power, and its intention pure, though I do not think it -free from danger. But tell me, Lady Hamlet Vernon--that is, will you -give me leave to ask you a question?" - -"Certainly." - -"Did you ever read the third volume of Tremaine attentively through?" -She blushed a genuine blush as she replied: "_Not quite_: I am -afraid--I thought it heavy." - -"You do not surprise me; the mind must come tutored to the page to -enjoy it as it ought to be enjoyed; and perhaps the fault which might -be found is precisely this, that those who would be most likely to read -it, are those who would be least likely to benefit by its perusal." - -"You certainly converse, Lord Albert," said Lady Hamlet Vernon, "very -differently from any person I ever conversed with; your ideas are quite -extraordinary to me, quite new, and you have made me lose myself in a -world of thought; you make me feel that every thing I have hitherto -thought was all mistake; but you must allow me to say, that, though -willing to become your pupil, I must be somewhat instructed in this -novel language before I feel myself competent to reply." - -"What I said seems to me very simple; I am not conscious of having -expressed any abstruse or recondite thoughts: at all events, I -certainly did not mean to be affected, still less impertinent--it was -something you said, which startled me, and made me feel concern, and it -might seem to you, that I evinced it with too much freedom--if I have -erred, pardon me." - -"Pardon, my dear Lord! there is no question about pardoning; but I am -curious to know what made you look so very grave when I said I wished -to forget my existence, and lose all sense of what had befallen me, or -what might befall me, in the busy idleness of life--do you attach any -very dreadful idea to this declaration?" - -"A very dreadful one indeed," was his reply. - -"Well, then, I do begin to believe that what I heard of you was -true--you are one of the saints--I mean, one of the set of people who -go about preaching and praying all day long. But then you frequent -balls and assemblies, and are so charming, I cannot reconcile this idea -with your air, appearance, and demeanour, or with the character of -those sour, misanthropic beings: do explain to me this mystery." - -"I wish I were one of those whom you so designate," said Lord Albert -D'Esterre gravely,--"but indeed I am far from being so. All I can say -to explain my meaning briefly is, that I have received a Christian and -religious education, and consequently that I think to live by chance, -and to let accident sway our actions, is a perilous state of delusion." - -"What do you mean to say, Lord Albert, that you regulate all your -thoughts, words, and actions, by some strictly self-drawn line of rule?" - -"Oh, Lady Hamlet Vernon, you probe my conscience, and I am thankful to -you: no, indeed, I have never yet been enabled so to do--but I wish I -could--not indeed by any self-drawn line or rule, but that by which all -ought to guide themselves." - -"Well, at last I have met with one extraordinary person, and this our -conversation must be resumed; but here comes some unwelcome visitor, -and for the moment the subject must drop." - -The conversation was interrupted by the announcement of Mr. Temple -Vernon. He has been already noticed as the object of Lady Tilney's -particular dislike from his independent, and, as she termed it, rude -freedom of character, and he must have been unpopular in a coterie -where studied deportment and total absence of all nature formed a -requisite merit for admission. But he was nearly allied by marriage to -Lady Hamlet Vernon, having inherited that portion of her late husband, -Lord Hamlet Vernon's property, which was not bequeathed to herself. -He was first cousin of the late Lord also, and Lady Hamlet Vernon's -jointure being paid from estates that devolved to him, she had been -condemned to keep up an intercourse which, under existing circumstances -of his _mauvaise odeur_, in her particular circle, she would gladly -have dispensed with. She however endeavoured to maintain that kind -of friendly intercourse with him, which would prevent any thing like -collision in matters where her own interest was concerned, and with -this view preferred exposing herself to harsh remarks from Lady Tilney -and others of the society, as to his admission into her house. "Ah, Mr. -Vernon, is it you," said Lady Hamlet Vernon to him as he entered; "I -hope I see you well?" - -"Allow me rather to inquire, Lady Hamlet Vernon, about yourself; -I have made a _détour_ of at least two miles to satisfy my anxiety -concerning you all. London is ringing with the terrible accident which -befel you last night. Pray tell me all the particulars, and tell me too -who was the fortunate knight-errant that rendered you assistance?" Lady -Hamlet made an inclination of her head towards Lord Albert D'Esterre. - -"Ah! is it so? well, he looks as if he were made for adventures," -directing his glance towards Lord Albert. "Now, though I, poor devil -that I am, desire no happier chance, I may drive about all day or night -and no such good fortune ever betide me as delivering a lady from a -perilous accident--really, Lord Albert, I congratulate you." Lord -Albert bowed, as he replied, - -"I am exceedingly happy that my servants were of any use; but indeed I -had not the good fortune you ascribe to me: for I was sitting occupied -in my library, and wholly unconscious of what passed in the street, -till Lady Hamlet Vernon was brought into the house." - -"Indeed, is it so? well, I have heard it said through the whole town, -that Lady Hamlet Vernon's horses ran away, that the coachman was dashed -from his box, and that some _preux chevalier_ had seized the horses -in their course, and though nearly annihilated himself, had succeeded -in his desperate efforts to stop them; whereas I am happy to see my -Lord is safe and sound. Lady Hamlet, I rejoice to find very little the -worse, and the long paragraph in the Morning Post all a lie. Well, -there is only one thing to be done under these circumstances, which is -to set the story right by a counter-statement, and therefore pray do -tell me all the particulars." - -Lady Hamlet Vernon smiled, with constrained complacency, saying, "you -may tell the fact, Mr. Vernon, if you chuse to take the trouble, which -is simply this;--that on returning home my coachman was drunk, and -upset my carriage; and the accident happened close to Lord Albert -D'Esterre's door, so that I was borne into his house, and received -there every kind attention." - -"But," enquired Mr. Temple Vernon, who had listened with evident -eagerness to the recital, "where were you going?--whence were you -coming?--for all these particulars are of importance." - -"Oh! home." - -"Good heavens, home! and at the early hour of twelve?" - -"Yes." - -"But where were you coming from?" - -"Oh! we had been dining at Sir William Temple's." - -"Ah, and is that really so? was all that Temple said at the clubs -yesterday morning really true? Did you, and the Tilney, and the -Leinsengen, and I don't know who else, dine with him? Well, that is -really too good--why no room in London will hold Temple after this. He -was always insufferable, even before he was promoted in the world; and -now that affairs have taken this favourable turn, heaven knows what he -will become; why he'll burst like the frog in the fable. But I am very -sorry, for his dinners were good dinners in their way; now, however, -they will be intolerable, for they will consist in every course of -_réchauffés_ of what Lady Tilney admired, or did, or said--do tell me -how the affair went off." - -"Indeed, Mr. Temple Vernon, I cannot talk more to-day; rather I pray -you tell me some news--how did the D'Hermanton's party end?" - -"Well then, if you so command it, let us turn to my note -book"--affecting to read, as he counted over his fingers, "Lady Tilney -was _not_ at the Duchess of D'Hermanton's; Lady Ellersby _was_, but -only walked through the apartments; Lady Boileau went no further -than the first room; item, Mr. Pierpoint did not either; neither did -Comtesse Leinsengen, who sat all the evening by Lord Baskerville, but -spoke little; the Duke of Mercington only shewed his waistcoat, and -then departed: all of which I hold to be signs that portend dark doings -in the court of Denmark. Now this I think is a correct _résume_ of the -Hermanton 'at home.' As to the politics of the last evening, it is -confidently stated that the Duke of ---- has some famous bird-lime, -called expediency, which will catch a vast number of young birds," -turning at the same time to Lord Albert, "is it not so, my Lord?" - -"Mr. Temple Vernon seems so perfectly master of every body's -intentions and affairs, that I scarcely know, in his presence, whether -or not I am master of my own." - -"The fact is, my good Lord, that nobody knows what they are going to do -(if they will only confess the truth) for two minutes together." - -"In one sense that is true enough, Mr. Temple Vernon, for we intend -many things which we never do, and _vice versâ_; nevertheless our will -is free, and fortunately not always under the direction of others to -guide it for us." - -"Oh! this is becoming too deep for me," interrupted Lady Hamlet Vernon. - -"And for me too," replied Mr. Temple Vernon, "as I have a thousand -things to do before seven, and it is now past four o'clock; however -I leave Lady Hamlet Vernon with less regret, knowing she has so -entertaining a companion as Lord D'Esterre." This was said very -ironically, and as the latter quickly perceived all the monkey malice -of the man, he disarmed it of its sting by rising to depart, saying: - -"Lady Hamlet Vernon has far more entertaining companions lying on her -table, than are generally to be met with among London idlers; and not -to prove myself one of these, I must make my bow without further delay, -trusting soon to have the pleasure of seeing her once more, in the gay -scenes in which she is so fair an ornament;" and again bowing to Mr. -Temple Vernon, he departed before the latter could leave the room. - -"Well, my dear Lady, you owe me something, I am sure, for having rid -you from the presence of that formal personage." Lady Hamlet Vernon did -not look as if she agreed with him, but forced a smile as she replied: - -"I like variety in character and manners; the world would grow dull, if -every one were cut out on the same pattern." - -"I am glad to hear you say that, my dear Lady Hamlet Vernon, for that -is exactly what I think; and, therefore, I have always held off from -the tyranny, which goes to make every body subscribe to the same code -in manners, dress, hours, nay even language; and at least, my coat, my -neckcloth, my hair, is all after a cut of my own, and I find all does -vastly well; for if the world does not approve the one or like the -other, they are at least afraid of me, because I think for myself. This -answers my purpose precisely as well. But you look serious, I see, and -therefore I will follow my Lord Albert D'Esterre's inimitable example, -and leaving my last sentence in the tablets of your memory, farewell, -most fair and fascinating lady. One word more I beg to add, remember -that I wish exceedingly to go to Lady Tilney's next Friday, and I leave -my wish in the hands of the kindest and fairest of the daughters of -Eve. I _depend_ upon your managing it for me." - -"Oh! certainly, nothing is easier you know, you are always _le bien -venu_, I wonder that you can make this request a favour." - -"Ah! all that is very well from your lips, but you know, although -I am the most admired man about town, I am sometimes by some chance -forgotten. It is very odd that it should be so, but nevertheless it is -often unjustly the case; and I correct fortune by such applications as -the one I have just made to you; and now _je vous baise les mains_ in -the D'Esterre phraseology, though I would much rather do so in reality, -and so farewell most fair." - -"Depend upon me," replied Lady Hamlet Vernon, kissing her hand to him -as he left the room. "Depend upon my hating you most cordially," she -said to herself; as her head sank on the pillow of her sofa, and she -tried to shut out from her recollection all his ill-timed _bavardage_, -and to recal the strange but eloquent converse of the interesting Lord -D'Esterre. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE PRIMA SERA; LETTERS, SNARES. - - -Lady Hamlet Vernon, in consequence of her recent accident, received -society at home instead of seeking it abroad; and for several evenings -the _élite_ of _ton_, passed their _prima sera_ at her house. Lord -Albert D'Esterre was constant too in his attendance there, and was -evidently much occupied with Lady Hamlet Vernon. His attentions did not -escape remark, and though Lady Tilney's object, in wishing to possess -an influence over Lord Albert, was quite of another nature, still -she felt some disappointment at finding he was interested in another -quarter, and therefore less likely to yield to the designs which she -had formed upon his political independence. - -"I'll tell you how that matter stands," replied Lord Rainham, as she -inquired his opinion on the subject, "the _love_ is at present entirely -on the lady's side; Lord Albert is not at all captive, and he has such -obsolete ways of thinking, that I imagine he will not be easily caught. -I should recommend his being given up altogether, he will never play a -part among us, depend upon that; and you will not find him worth the -trouble of educating." - -"Oh! as to playing a part, my dear Lord, one does not want every body -to play a part, at least not a _first_ part you know; and as for -_educating_ them, that is quite out of the question." - -"But," rejoined Lord Rainham, "you forget there is such a thing as -persuasion; and it is said D'Esterre took his seat on the side of -ministers by some means of that sort. Now it is possible, that although -no _liaison de cÅ“ur_ exists between him and Lady Hamlet Vernon, yet as -a clever woman, she may have decided his vacillating judgment; to say -the truth, I believe she has." Lady Tilney bit her lip, and something -like the word provoking, escaped her, as she replied, "I would scorn -to persuade any body to any thing against his will; there is nothing -I have ever maintained more strenuously, than that every individual -should have a free choice in all the different elections of life." -Lord Rainham smiled. "But after all," she added with an affected -indifference, by which she attempted ineffectually to conceal her -mortification, "it is of very little importance which side Lord Albert -has taken." - -"One would have thought so indeed but for the disappointment which is -evident since he has declared himself," replied Lord Rainham, drily. - -However much Lady Tilney felt chagrined at the thought that another had -succeeded in turning Lord Albert's mind in a direction contrary to her -wishes, yet she was too politic to betray her disappointment to the -person who had triumphed; and therefore, on the evening in question, -she paid more than usual attention to Lady Hamlet Vernon. - -"Dear Lady Hamlet Vernon," said Lady Tilney addressing her, as she -took a seat by her, "you must not pretend to be ill any longer, we -positively cannot do without you;" and then turning to Comtesse -Leinsengen, she added, "did you ever see any thing to equal the beauty -of her fairy foot?" - -This was a sore subject, as the reverse of the proposition always -suggested itself to the Comtesse's fancy, in respect of her own; and -she pretended on the present occasion not to hear it, but tossing up -her head, took Lady Baskerville's arm, who was sitting on the other -side of her, and whispered in her ear, "Lady Tilney does take such -_engouements_, and then is as quickly tired of them, _des feus de -pailles_," shrugging her shoulders contemptuously; "but I wonder she -_like_ to dat old story of her admiration for feet, when she made -herself so very ridiculous in her affected praises of dat _soi-disant_ -princesse. De lady who professes to worship liberty, independence, -and all dat sort of ting, to sit holding anoder woman's foot upon her -knee, and making all dat sort of fuss, for my part, _je n'ai jamais pu -conçevoir ce plaisir là _." - -"It does seem to me rather extraordinary," replied Lady Baskerville; -"but then Lady Tilney is so very good-humoured, she always protects -every body she thinks put down or in distress." This was a prudent -answer on Lady Baskerville's part, but not well received, which on -perceiving, she quickly added: - -"As to myself, I confess I do not take any pleasure in those sort of -out-of-the-way admirations; I can admire beauty in other women; but I -cannot affect to be so exceedingly enchanted by it as to turn _fille de -chambre_ in its honour. But there are many things in the world vastly -ridiculous; for instance, can any thing be more so in its way than -that Duke and Duchess D'Hermanton, who have been married I don't know -how long, and are still _aux premiers amours_; one sees them eternally -dawdling about together, as if persons came into company to be always -setting a pattern of conjugal felicity. It is pardonable, perhaps, -for very young people, during a few months to fancy themselves vastly -in love; but after that time it is sickening--don't you think so, -Comtesse?" - -"Oui, vraiment; _au reste_ it is only in dis country that people do -give themselves such _ridicule_, and to say truth, not often, even -here." - -"But pardon me, Comtesse," said Lady Baskerville, withdrawing from her; -"I must go away, for I see Lord Boileau waiting for me, whom I had -promised to take to Almack's, and had nearly forgotten;" so saying she -passed into an adjoining room, and addressing him said: - -"Lord Boileau we are very late, and if we do not make haste we shall be -shut out." - -"Oh, no--all _that_ is left out of the evening's entertainment, I can -assure you, for they begin to be afraid that nobody will go in, though -the doors are left wide open all night." - -"I am not surprised, for I hate the whole thing, and think it is become -quite detestable, only I promised Lady Aveling to go to-night, so if -you are ready let us begone;--but I have not made my curtsey to Lady -Hamlet." - -"Indeed, Lady Baskerville, you may spare yourself that trouble, if you -mean to be agreeable, for do you not see she is enamoured _pardessus -les yeux_ with _that_ Lord Albert D'Esterre." - -"Ah," rejoined Lady Baskerville, looking in the direction where they -sat, "is it so? Well, every one has her taste; but I cannot say such a -person would ever touch my heart." - -"Oh! _your_ heart we all know is assailable but _by one_, and that -Baskerville is the man, the most to be envied in all the world; to be -sure there never was _such_ a wife as you are, quite perfect, Lady -Baskerville, only too perfect." Lady Baskerville cast back her head, -and looking at Lord Boileau with one of her _intelligent_ smiles, they -passed on, and stepping into the carriage, drove off to finish their -evening amusements in the insipid glitter of an Almack's ball. - -After the lapse of some weeks Lady Hamlet Vernon was completely -restored to health and beauty, and again resumed her usual routine of -existence. She sought dissipation at all times eagerly, from habit; -but now there was added to this impulse a restlessness of feeling, an -anxiety if alone, and a void in her heart, from the evening in which -her accident happened, such as she had never before experienced. It -was in vain for her to conceal from herself, that she had perhaps -_hitherto_ unconsciously courted the society of Lord Albert D'Esterre -more than of any other person, without considering how far she was -yielding to the gratification consistently with any probable chance -of happiness to herself in the ultimate issue. She certainly had a -decided preference for Lord Albert D'Esterre, or why did she seek -every opportunity of seeing him; or why feel uneasy when she heard of -his acknowledged affiance to another? These feelings prompted her to -know more of the appearance and character of his intended bride, whom -circumstances had as yet prevented from appearing in the great world of -London, and to whom she was an utter stranger. - -Under this influence, she determined to address a letter to one with -whom she was in the habit of corresponding, and whom she knew to be on -a visit to Dunmelraise, the seat of Lady Adeline's mother. She felt -confident that she might take this step without compromising herself, -and without her inquiries being deemed strange, or indicative of any -thing beyond a natural curiosity. Shortly after this letter had been -written, the following reply came from her friend, Mr. G. Foley; the -contents of which were not at all calculated to tranquillize Lady -Hamlet Vernon's feelings, if she really had any affection for Lord -Albert. - - _Letter from Mr. Foley to Lady Hamlet Vernon._ - - "When one is not to write of that which one is thinking about, - it is the most difficult thing in the world to write at all. But - you command, and I must endeavour to obey. Let me see how am I to - commence? Perhaps it is best that I do so by giving you _the history_, - as one young lady writing to another would say, of the Lady Adeline - Seymour. You know that Lady Dunmelraise, her mother, lost her husband - and an only son soon after Lady Adeline's birth; she then fell into - low spirits and bad health, but by degrees roused herself to live for - this child; and I must do her the justice to say, she has fulfilled - her task admirably. - - "As to personal appearance, Lady Adeline Seymour is of that height - which just escapes being too tall; of that slimness which just escapes - being too thin; of that untutored manner which is often nearly being - _gauche_, were it not that it is accompanied by a childish grace which - evades the charge. Quick of perception, and quicker still in feeling, - she has a peculiar way of checking these impulses so as never to - allow them to betray her into any unbecoming harshness or abruptness - of manner; the very fear one entertains that she may overstep the - boundary of polished _rétenu_ gives an additional zest to her, but - _gare a ceux qui voudroit l'imiter_--for she is perfectly original and - defies all copyists. As to her face it is not marvellously beautiful, - still less regularly so, but it is of such love-like paleness, chased - by such sunny gleams of joyous youth continually playing over her - features, that one could not wish it changed even for a more regular - beauty. She is the very model of the poet's dream when he wrote-- - - ----'Her pure and eloquent blood - Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, - That one would almost say her body thought.' - - "Thus much for Lady Adeline's appearance and manners. In regard to - the acquirements and endowments of her mental being, I am perhaps not - myself qualified to speak--she is not precisely what the laborious - educating mammas would call accomplished, but she has a master genius - for _one_ art and a love for all. Her musical talent certainly - requires much instruction to bring it to any perfection, but the - scraps of airs she warbles as she flies about the house, are in the - best taste as far as they go--and a few Venetian ballads which she - sings to her guitar, and which she says her cousin taught her, are - quite inebriating. - - "She unfeignedly undervalues all she does; perhaps too much so; but - you read in her countenance that she is perfectly sincere; that all - _spoken_ praise distresses her; and you are involuntarily led to seek - to give her homage in some more palatable shape. - - "What do you think of this portrait of the young Adeline? It looks - like that of a heroine in romance, as I glance my eyes over the - words, and yet I have such a nausea at all the persons bearing that - designation, that I would fain save the delightful one of whom I am - writing from that hacknied name. You must have heard, of course, that - she is engaged to her cousin Lord Albert D'Esterre; but like all those - engagements made for people when they are children, I do not think - it will be fulfilled _con amore_--not but what she blushes whenever - she speaks of him, and _that_ she does pretty frequently; and if he - is grown up like a certain bust (for I have not seen him these three - years, and boys change so from eighteen to one and twenty), he really - must be _un bel Giovane_. By the way, she has made an exquisite - drawing of _mon beau cousin_, but that is neither here nor there, - the fiction of seventeen is always beautiful. Pray in your next - gracious letter inform me what sort of man he has become, for I feel a - brotherly regard for this very nice person, Lady Adeline Seymour, and - should like to think she had a chance of happiness. Happiness, what a - sound! but the reality, where is it? - - 'Come L'Araba Fenicè - Che ci sia, ciascun lo dicè - Dove sia, nessun lo sà .' - - "I should have told you, by the bye, that with all the gaiety, - which is one of her greatest charms, Lady Adeline has a tincture of - seriousness mingled with it, which some might suppose approached to - Methodism; but even if it is so, _à son age elle en guérira_. - - "I have been a long time here: but it has been a great gratification - to me, and time has glided softly by; for in addition to the charms - of the daughter, Lady Dunmelraise is in all respects a very agreeable - and sensible woman, has seen a great deal of the world, and besides - all that, honours your humble servant with her very particular regard; - which she tells me is bestowed entirely for the sake of my mother, - the friend whom she loved most in the world next to her own family; - but I am vain enough to flatter myself that she likes me a little for - mine own sake too. And you, who understand every thing _à demi mot_, - will know how soothing it is to a sick heart to receive kindness; this - has induced me hitherto to linger on from day to day; but I shall - vary the scene soon, for I begin to think that even I may be _de - trop_; for I hear frequent mention made of Lord Albert D'Esterre's - expected arrival; so to-morrow I set off for Luryddicath Park. Lord - Tresyllian's; who, you know, is father to Lord Albert. - - "And now, my dear Lady Hamlet Vernon, having given you the particulars - you required, I will not weary you with more of myself: but in pity to - me, seeing that I am still for a time cut off from that only tolerable - place in England, London, do write me a brief, gracious missive, that - I may feast upon it till I am once more restored to your presence, and - in the mean while believe me to be the most devoted of your slaves. - Can I say more? - - "G. FOLEY." - -Lady Hamlet Vernon, after perusing this letter, fell into a deep train -of reflection, if such can be called intense feeling usurping the mind, -to the exclusion of every other idea. The image of Lady Adeline, thus -vividly pourtrayed by Mr. Foley's pen, stood in actual presence before -her; and combined with that image, rose the vision of Lord Albert -D'Esterre. The happiness which would be the growth of an union between -two such persons as her knowledge of the one, and her fancied knowledge -of the other, represented them, was embodied with forcible reality, and -tears coursed each other involuntarily down her cheeks as she sat, more -like a marble image than a living being. - -From this state she was suddenly roused by the servants announcing -Lord Albert D'Esterre himself; and making an effort to subdue the -feeling which either she was too much ashamed, or too proud to own, -she endeavoured to receive him with as much composure as she could -assume. After the first words of course had passed, Lady Hamlet Vernon -was too deeply absorbed in one subject for her readily to turn to any -indifferent topic; and she at length addressed Lord Albert on the -subject of her solicitude, saying, "Do you know I have received a -letter this morning full of the praises of a person, in whom I believe -you are much interested; it is from a friend of mine now staying at -Dunmelraise, and who draws such a picture of the charms of Lady Adeline -Seymour, that I wonder, Lord Albert, to see you here--but you are going -to Dunmelraise, are you not, immediately?" Her tears almost flowed -afresh as she pronounced these words; and unconsciously she cast a -look of tender intreaty on Lord Albert. The latter had involuntarily -started, coloured, and hesitated to reply to this unexpected question; -at length he answered: - -"No, not immediately; I am unable to leave town yet." - -"You are not in love," Lady Hamlet Vernon exclaimed, "no, you are _not_ -in love with Lady Adeline Seymour--I read your heart in the measured -calmness of your words; she is _not_ the mistress of your affections." - -The sentence seemed to have escaped Lady Hamlet Vernon's lips without -the power of control, in a moment of excitement; and her eyes, which -had been fixed on Lord Albert, now as suddenly fell beneath his gaze as -he exclaimed with astonishment, - -"What can you mean, what _do_ you mean, Lady Hamlet Vernon?" At that -moment Lady Tilney was announced, and a minute after Lord Gascoigne. -Conversation became general; but Lord Albert, evidently labouring under -some painful feeling, took no part in it. Still he seemed determined to -remain, to await the departure of the others, when Lady Tilney proposed -to Lady Hamlet Vernon to accompany her to the Park; and the latter, -fearing that she had compromised herself in the too open expression of -her feelings relative to Lord Albert and Lady Adeline Seymour, availed -herself of the opportunity to avoid any renewal of the theme. With a -heart ill at ease, she prepared to attend Lady Tilney to the dazzling -throng of Hyde Park; while Lord Albert, seeing it was vain to look for -any explanation of Lady Hamlet Vernon's extraordinary address to him -at the moment, reluctantly handed her to Lady Tilney's carriage; and, -trusting to some future opportunity to ask an explanation, he mounted -his horse and rode off; but not with a mind so tranquil or a heart so -buoyant as he had possessed a short time before. - -In proposing to take Lady Hamlet Vernon to the Park, Lady Tilney's -real object was to withdraw her from Lord Albert, whose anxiety had -not escaped her observation, and whose political career she still had -hopes might not be positively decided; at any rate, if hope remained, -it was worth the trial; and should she have been correct in her idea -that Lord Albert had not committed himself irrevocably, no time was -to be lost; that very moment perhaps he waited only the voice of Lady -Hamlet's influence, to decide his wavering intentions. Lady Tilney's -part was therefore quickly taken; and as they proceeded to the Park, -she endeavoured to turn Lady Hamlet Vernon's mind from Lord Albert, if -he really occupied any share in it, by adverting to every topic of the -day; among other things she said: - -"What do you think! Miss Melcomb's marriage with Lord Glenmore is at -length declared. I had long had my suspicions that it would be so; but -I cannot say I approve of the affair; and I am sure you will think -with me, Lord Glenmore is too great a card to be played by that little -miss, who has never left her mamma's wing; and has, of course, imbibed -all her prejudices. But although Lord Glenmore has allied himself with -this family, we must not wholly give him up; besides the Georgina -is pretty, and she may yet not prove quite such a simpleton as she -looks." Lady Tilney, however, in vain endeavoured to interest Lady -Hamlet Vernon in any subject she discussed; the former acquiesced in -every thing her companion said, in order to avoid the argument which -would have followed any dissent from her opinion. Lady Hamlet Vernon's -remarks, when she made any, were short, and little to the purpose; and -at length, wearied and ill at ease, she complained of a head-ache, and -besought Lady Tilney to set her down at home. - -When the carriage-door closed, Lady Tilney flung herself back, -exclaiming as she drew up the glass, "How provokingly discreet, she did -not once commit herself!" and Lady Tilney drove once more back to the -Park, in the hope of seeing Lord Albert; and if possible, by courting -his attention, of counteracting any influence which might have been -exercised on his opinion by Lady Hamlet Vernon. She looked, however, in -vain for him in the crowd; and at length drove home, disappointed and -displeased at her want of success, and out of humour with every thing. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -FASHIONABLE FRIENDSHIP. - - -Lord Glenmore's marriage soon became the subject of general -conversation. The day of the nuptials was already named, and the -ceremony was to be in the most splendid style. In compliment to Lord -Glenmore, several of his acquaintance were invited. Amongst these was -Lady Tilney and Lady Tenderden; the Comtesse Leinsengen of course; and -Lady Ellersby, who on her mother's side was related to the family of -the Melcombs. The parties named expressed themselves annoyed at the -idea of forming part of what they called the _Melcomb mélange_; but a -secret wish to retain an influence with Lord Glenmore, whose marriage -it was intended should not, without a trial of Miss Melcomb's aptitude -for _ton_, banish him from their circle. - -The whole affair, however, was _sotto sugezione_ in the opinion of -Lady Tilney and her friends. "The strangest thing of all is," exclaimed -the former, as she was conversing on the subject with Lady Tenderden -and the Comtesse Leinsengen, "that the marriage takes place in church." - -"In church! _quelle idée, vraiment on mourra de froid_." - -"And pray how must one be dressed?" inquired Lady Tenderden. - -"Oh, _en costume de traineau_, I presume, since it is in von of your -cold church; but vat sinifies how von dresses for it?" - -"If it rains I really must send my excuse," said Lady Tilney, who -wanted to be on a level at least with the Comtesse in impertinence. -"Have you seen the _trousseau_?" she added. - -"Yes, I have," replied Lady Tenderden. Lady Tilney looked blank; she -could not bear that others should precede her even in the inspection -of a _trousseau_. Lady Tenderden, continued:--"Madame Duval brought -me every thing that was worth seeing; the laces are magnificent, and -the _corbeille de noces_, and every thing is in good taste. But here -is Lady Ellersby," exclaimed Lady Tenderden, glad to break off from a -subject which had been disagreeable to her, "I do not suppose _she_ -will approve of the programme of this ceremony." - -"My dear Lady Ellersby," the ladies all exclaimed, running up to her, -"why did you not exert your influence with Lady Melcomb to prevent this -_baroque_ fancy of being married in church; surely your relationship -would have authorized your good advice on the occasion." Lady Ellersby -looked surprised, and asked an explanation. - -"Do you not know," answered Lady Tilney, "that the ceremony is to take -place in a church?" - -"La! does it? What a strange fancy!" drawled Lady Ellersby; "but I -should never think of giving any advice to Lady Melcomb--I never do, to -any body." - -"Dat Mademoiselle Melcomb, vid all her imbecile _niaiserie_, seems not -to have played her part amiss." - -"I think she will turn out better than one could have supposed," -rejoined Lady Tenderden, "when she becomes _un peu plus façonné_." - -"Do tell me who are the invited?" interrupted Lady Tilney, addressing -Lady Ellersby. - -"Oh, half London, to be sure; such a quantity of tiresome relations, -and so much property, and family dignity, there will be no end of all -the cousins--don't you know they are just the sort of people who teem -with relations?" - -"But who is there of the party that one knows?" replied Lady Tilney. - -"Oh, there are ourselves, and the Duke of Mercington, and the Boileaus, -and Baskervilles, I believe; I fancy too the Duke and Duchess -D'Hermanton, and some of _that_ set, are also among the _priés_, but -I must go now _en qualité de cousine_, and leave my card with the -Melcombs, and then I shall go on to Kitchener's, who has the resetting -of the family diamonds. I am told they are magnificent; and I should -so like to persuade Lord Ellersby to let mine be reset too, I have had -them three years in their present form, and am so tired of them as -they are--he, he, he!--well--adieu, we shall meet to-night at Lady De -Chere's?" - -"_Avouez moi qu'elle passe la permission qu'ou a d'être bête_," -observed Lady Tenderden, as she left the room. - -"May be so, but she is a very old friend of mine, and besides, she is -perfectly _comme il faut_, and after all, that sort of thing gets on in -the world just as well as talent." - -"Perhaps better," rejoined Lady Tilney. - -"_Précisement_," said the Comtesse Leinsengen, "but, _il faut que je -pars, je vais voir le trousseau_, for oderwise I shall have nothing to -say to Lady Baskerville, who goes vid me to-night to de Opera. _Adieu -les belles, adieu._" - -"I wonder how she can be at the trouble of going to see that foolish -_trousseau_," exclaimed Lady Tilney, as soon as she was out of hearing. -"She is so _inconséquente_. Did Lady Ellersby name the Baskervilles as -being among the invited?" continued Lady Tilney. - -"Oh yes, the Comtesse, depend upon it, has taken care they shall be -asked; and my Lord is always flattered in being reckoned a requisite -appendage to a woman of high rank; but he will soon find his error -in depending on her smiles, for except for the gratification of the -moment's vanity, she seeks no further aim, and at all times scruples -not to sacrifice her _çi-devant_ friends to her new ones." - -"Poor Lord Baskerville," replied Lady Tilney, "was intended to be by -nature _le bon enfant_, which she calls him; but he has fallen into the -terrible mistake of thinking himself a _leader_ of _ton_, which gives -him a ridicule that he would not otherwise have." - -"How well you read characters, my dear Lady Tilney! But I thought he -was a _protégé_ of yours." - -"Oh, so he is; I like him of all things; and he is often vastly useful. -One must have different characters at command to fill different parts, -or else nothing that one wants would go on. But to return to the -Melcombs, I do not recover from my surprise about that marriage." - -"It only shews what perseverance will do, I wished to talk the matter -over with you, and to ascertain whether or not you meant to attend; -so now I need not trouble you longer. Your gown you say is to be -rose-colour, mine shall be jonquille." - -"Ah, you always look divine in that golden light: but what light do -you not look divine in?" - -"I must positively run away, or you will quite turn my head with -flattery. Adieu, adieu," and they parted well pleased with each other. - -When Lady Ellersby stopped at Lady Melcomb's door, where she had -intended only to leave her card, a multiplicity of people on the same -errand _faisoit queue à la porte_; but to her infinite dismay, just as -her carriage drove up, Lord Glenmore, who happened to be coming out of -the door, approached her with a countenance beaming happiness. - -"I am sure Georgina will be at home to _you_; do allow me to hand you -out of your carriage." - -"Not for the world, I would not intrude; I am sure Miss Melcomb has a -thousand things to do, and to arrange; but--" - -"Nay, dear Lady Ellersby," continued Lord Glenmore, pressingly (who -thought every one must be as anxious to see his bride, as he was eager -she should be seen), "Georgina will be so disappointed if you do not -go up stairs, that I must entreat you will." And in short, for once, -what between curiosity to look at the bridal paraphernalia, and a sort -of awkwardness to do a decided thing, and say no, Lady Ellersby's -indolence was overcome, and she allowed herself to be handed up stairs -into the drawing room, where were assembled a host of ladies (_not_ -Miss Melcomb), who were busily engaged admiring the various dresses and -finery which were displayed before them. - -"You are just come in time, Lady Ellersby," exclaimed Lady Aveling, -"for after to-day, nobody is to be admitted." - -"No? well, la! I am glad then; but my dear Lady Melcomb I came, I -assure you, expressly to wish you joy, and to leave my congratulations -also with Miss Melcomb, whom I hope, I am to see, for Lord Glenmore -insisted on my coming in, otherwise I would not have done so--knowing -how tiresome visitors are at such a moment; but since I am here, do me -the favour to mention to Miss Melcomb, how very happy I am to have the -opportunity of wishing her joy." - -"And do look," cried Lady Aveling, "at this enchanting hat; it is just -come from Paris--was there ever any thing _de meilleur gôut_?--and -then look at this, and that _seduisante_--really, Lady Melcomb, your -selection has been exquisite. But here comes the bride." - -Then ensued kisses, curtseys, and congratulations, during which Lord -Glenmore retired, wearied with the nonsense of the female coterie, and -despairing of even catching a glance from Miss Melcomb. - -While the marriage ornaments continued to absorb the attention of the -other visitors, Miss Melcomb took Lady Ellersby aside to shew her what, -she said, was infinitely better worth looking at--a miniature of Lord -Glenmore. - -"So, my dear," said Lady Ellersby, "you are really what they call in -love? he, he, he!" - -"I am fondly attached to Lord Glenmore, and feel proud now in declaring -it;--it has become my happy duty," replied Miss Melcomb. - -"Duty!" replied Lady Ellersby, opening her mouth, and _ouvrant des -grands yeux_, "he, he, he!--surely you are not serious? Whoever heard -a young person going to be married, that is, going to be her own -mistress, talk of duty! Tell me, really are you not delighted at the -idea of having horses and equipages, and doing exactly what you like, -and going out every where you please? That was what I liked and thought -of, when I was going to be married, and----but then I was not in -love--he, he, he!" - -"No?" replied Miss Melcomb, somewhat astonished. - -"Certainly not--he, he, he!" - -"I have no wish," rejoined Miss Melcomb, "to be more my own mistress -than I am at present. I shall, on the contrary, feel myself less at -liberty, for of course a married woman has a thousand things to think -of which a girl has not." - -"La, my dear, you talk in a way which it is very right to teach -children, but when people act for themselves they think very -differently. Every body, you know, marries to avoid being governed." - -"I never could have married for that reason, for I have been the -happiest of creatures at home." - -"Well really, la! you don't say so! But now you will have an opera -box, jewels, equipages, and all sorts of delightful things." - -"I don't know--perhaps if Lord Glenmore intends I should--" - -"La, how droll you are; you don't really mean to set out by asking his -leave, or consulting him on such trifling subjects as these, my dear -child, he, he, he! you are enough to spoil any husband.--Well, good -morning--you must correct yourself of such _enfantillage_--remember -what I say. Six months will not have elapsed before you recant all -this, and change your present mode of thinking and feeling." - -Miss Melcomb smiled, and shook her head in token of dissent. "Good -morning," Lady Ellersby repeated, "I have already intruded too much -upon your time; I shall be delighted to cultivate your society when you -come back a gay bride; and pray tell Lady Melcomb I will not torment -her any more just now.--Once again accept my congratulations, and my -best compliments to Lord Melcomb, he, he, he!" - -It is a strange thing that in the happiest of times there is often a -word spoken, or a thing occurs, which seems to interpose a dark spot -upon the brightness of happiness, as though we were not to forget the -nature of mortal felicity. Lady Ellersby's words, of six months will -not elapse ere you have changed your present feelings--sounded in Miss -Melcomb's ears long after they had been spoken; and though she strove -to drive them from her remembrance, they remained fixed there like a -warning which she was not to disregard--a foreboding of evil (for to -the happy all change has terror in it). Minor circumstances such as -this, have happened to every body in their course through life, and -have been like visions which opened a vista to futurity. - -The day at length came which was to unite Miss Melcomb with Lord -Glenmore, and the various persons invited met at Lord Melcomb's house, -from whence their carriages followed in the suite of that of the -bride's. The ceremony took place in St. James's Chapel, and it was a -beautiful sight to see the bride, with composed bashfulness, in the -long white robe and coronal that bound her veiled brows, so fitly -emblematic of her own purity, supported by her father to the altar, -and given from the paternal arms into those of a husband, who was -henceforth to be all the world to her, and whom she acknowledged to be -lord of her affections in the seriousness of true and deep attachment, -as the chosen of her heart. Her velvet prayer book in one hand--the -other folding her veil across her person, which it but partially -concealed, she knelt down in that spirit of piety which hallows and -sanctifies the vows she was about to take. The previous tremor which -had shook her frame as she advanced to the altar, was stilled into -composure as she bent the knee, and raised her thoughts to heaven. - -Lord Glenmore, too, seemed imbued with the same devout feelings, and -all those who came with lighter thoughts, appeared, outwardly at least, -impressed. - -When the ceremony closed, the now Lady Glenmore knelt before her -parents, and as they pressed her to their breast, blessed her with -silent fervour; and even the most insensible acknowledged a touch of -feeling at this scene. Lady De Chere was heard to say, that she had -no idea it would be made such a serious affair of; had she known it, -she certainly would not have been present. Congratulations having been -offered on every side, some with sincere goodwill, but the greater -part with common-place phrase; the marriage party returned to Lady -Melcomb's, where a breakfast had been prepared. - -"What a _mélange_ of persons!" observed Lady Ellersby, as she stopped -in the door-way on entering, in order to reconnoitre. "If I had not -been obliged" (she whispered to Lady Tilney), "nothing should have -brought me here." - -"And _I_ most indubitably should not have come," replied the latter, -"had it not been to _oblige you_; and after all I would have given a -great deal that I _had not_: for I assure you, my dear, as soon as the -affair of the day is over, we must none of us be seen here again; what -we may do respecting Lord and Lady Glenmore, _reste a savoir_. But -yonder is Lady Baskerville and Lady Tenderden, let us join them, and -by keeping as much as possible together, and talking to no one but in -our own circle, shew that we are not here even at present on familiar -footing." Lady Baskerville was conversing with Lady Tenderden on one -of those square Ottomans _dos-a-dos_, with their several cavaliers by -them, Lord Tonnerre, Lord Gascoigne, Lord Boileau, &c. - -"Well I am sure," said Lady Baskerville, addressing Lord Boileau, -"if I were Lady Glenmore, I should heartily wish all this _étiquette -de noces_ was over; when a marriage has taken place, and it is known -to all the world, the amusement is ended, and there is nothing to be -wished for, but the comfortable arrangement of two sensible persons, -who know what it is to live without being _a charge_ to each other." - -"To be sure," replied Lord Boileau, "I wonder how people can make this -sort of fuss and _étalage_; it is assuming that one is interested for -them--nobody cares whether any body is happy or miserable, and it is a -bad taste to _affiché_ their private feelings in this public manner." - -At this moment a general movement in one of the apartments attracted -every body's attention.--"Lord Melcomb is dead!" "Lord Melcomb is -dying!" resounded in audible whispers. - -"Call my carriage."--"How shocking."--"I would not be in the room with -a corpse for the world."--"Do let us get away." - -"Who knows but it may be catching--how fortunate for Glenmore," said -Lord Boileau, looking over the people's heads, as he beheld Lord -Melcomb apparently lifeless. "He will have the pretty heiress and her -fortune at the same moment." - -"What do you mean?" asked some one who stood near. - -"Why, only if the old Lord dies, that Miss Melcomb becomes immediate -mistress of Melcomb Park, and an estate of ten thousand a year." - -"Does she! you do not mean so; had I known that, I would have proposed -to the girl myself," said Lord Tonnerre. - -"But is he really in an apoplectic fit?" said another. - -"Perhaps, but sometimes people do outlive these sort of things, and -walk about quite gaily many years." - -"Ah! there is that chance to be sure," said Lady Baskerville, laughing. -It is lamentable to remark, how those who live in fashion's fooleries -become actually indifferent to every thing, and to every circumstance, -of what mighty moment soever, that does not immediately concern their -interests and pleasures. The most tremendous events, the most awful -dispensations, the most surprising occurrences are to them so many -little coloured bubbles, that seem to blow about for their amusement, -or targets set up to shoot jokes at. Life and death seem but as -foot-balls for these puppets to play with: it would be laughable if it -were not horrible. - -Lord Melcomb had only a fainting fit, occasioned by over fatigue, -and the heat of the room. The brilliant crowd, however, which were -assembled at his house, fled in dismay on the first alarm of sickness -or of sorrow; and their inquiries the next day for his health, were -influenced more by curiosity, than by any feeling of humanity, or any -real care whether he were alive or dead. This event, however, had a -very different effect on the minds of Lord Melcomb's sincere friends, -who waited with anxiety to learn the effects of this sudden illness. -On Lady Glenmore's mind it cast a cloud, which seemed to overshadow -the bright dawning of her happiness; and she trembled at the idea of -some unknown calamity, an idea which had once before visited her, when -called up by Lady Ellersby's words, and which now again recurred to her -with painful intenseness. A short hour, however, relieved every one -from anxiety; Lord Melcomb was completely restored, and he received the -embraces of his child: when kissing away the tears, which she could -not restrain, he entreated her to lay aside all fears on his account. -Once more the bridal pair received the parental blessing; and taking -leave of the few dear friends that surrounded them, stepped into their -carriage and set off for Lord Glenmore's villa, where after remaining a -short time, and feeling quite reassured on Lord Melcomb's account, they -proceeded on a tour to Paris. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -A FASHIONABLE EASTER. - - -The season was approaching when, in good old times, the heads of great -families left the metropolis, and in the retirement of their country -seats or villas devoted the precious hours of the solemn festival of -Easter to reflection, apart from busy scenes of public life in the -bosoms of their families--thus setting an example worthy of imitation: -and overcoming, in some degree, the difficulty with which we know a -rich man shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven. - -How widely different is it at the present day with those who call -themselves _The Ton_. They go indeed, at this holy season, to villas, -and country seats, but take with them there all the follies, and vices, -and habits of that daily idleness and dissipation which can suffer no -pause in its riot, no diminution in its intoxication. - -Lady Ellersby had invited to Restormel Lady Tilney and the more select -of her coterie. Some there were, the subalterns of their _corps élite_, -who, however subservient and ready they had proved themselves to -adopt the follies of exclusiveness, had as yet failed in establishing -themselves in its full rights and prerogatives, and who, after the -sacrifice of their own true dignity, still found themselves but as -tools in the hands of others. These, often overlooked in the more -_recherché_ amusements, _heard_ of the party at Restormel, but only -_heard_, and were not among the invited. To be excluded on such an -occasion was a mortification of the severest kind, and it became a -matter of the greatest importance to have their names inserted, if -possible, on the select list. To obtain this point, the infinite pains -and ingenuity employed were worthy of a better cause. The Baskervilles -were of the number overlooked; and, addressing his wife on the subject -with as much eagerness as it was permitted one of his dignified -refinement to display, Lord Baskerville said: - -"Imagine what Boileau has just told me; Lady Ellersby has a party at -Restormel next week! I do think _we_ had a right to be asked; don't -you?" - -"Oh certainly, _love_," replied Lady Baskerville, a sweet-sounding -epithet of affection which but on few occasions passed between them: -"Certainly: and if we are not, I shall think it quite rude; but _I -will_ arrange the matter." - -That night Lady Baskerville went to the Opera with Lady Boileau; as -soon as an opportunity presented itself, Lady Baskerville turned -suddenly round, and said, "Oh, there is Lady Ellersby, I see, in her -box: how well she looks--of _course you_ are going to Restormel at -Easter?" and she kissed her hand the while, in her most smiling manner, -to the lady of whom she spoke. - -"No, I am not invited," replied Lady Boileau. "Are you?" - -"Yes," rejoined Lady Baskerville, (determined to hazard the lie at -all events, and trust to chance, or her own devices, to make it true -afterwards.) "But how very odd she should have left you out; it must be -some mistake." - -"Oh, no, it is not a mistake--it cannot be; for Lady Ellersby, you -know, makes all her invitations on these occasions _de vive voix_." -Lady Baskerville almost betrayed herself as she _felt_ Lady Boileau's -penetrating eyes fixed upon her's, with a scrutiny she did not wish to -prolong; however she rallied dexterously, and turned off the discourse -into some other channel; but Lady Boileau returned to the charge, -saying: - -"Well, my dear Lady Baskerville, as _you are_ asked, do you not think -you could get us invited also? You know I hardly ever break my rule of -running the risk of compromising a friend by tormenting her to procure -invitations, but for this once I think I may venture, considering -our long friendship, to entrust you with the secret (for you know I -would not have it said for the world), that I wish to be of the number -of the _Priées_ to Restormel--now as I intend giving my first ball -immediately after Easter, I shall consult her to-night about certain -persons whom I am rather doubtful whether I shall ask or not, and then -by appealing to you, throw the conversation into your hands, and give -you an opportunity of naming those who are invited to Restormel, which -will bring about the subject in such a natural way, that either I must -be asked or she will commit herself by a rudeness which she generally -avoids." - -Lady Baskerville sat on thorns, but during the length of this speech -she had leisure to collect her scattered senses, and began a reply -equally elaborate, professing herself to be exceedingly attached and -obliged to Lady Boileau, and for _that very reason_ declining all -interference on the present occasion--"for you know," she said, "it -makes one so very _nervous_ to put a friend under the unpleasant -predicament of being refused. Besides, the moment one lets the -world know that one has a friend who wants any thing, people begin -immediately to conclude that they may want many things, and directly -look shy, and make an excuse, and get off, and probably cut both the -_asker_ and the person for whom they ask. However _you know_ I will do -what _I can do_, but only I entreat you will leave me at liberty to -chuse the mode of managing this business." - -"Yes," rejoined Lady Boileau, "most certainly; but perhaps the best way -of all will be to say nothing about it, beforehand, and then for me to -arrive unexpectedly, and say _you_ had asked me, and had forgotten to -mention to Lady Ellersby that you had done so." - -"Oh! _not for the world_, my dearest Lady Boileau, not for the -world,--besides,--I just recollect--Lord Baskerville had some idea -we should not go at all;"--at that instant arrives Lord Baskerville -himself, and forgetting his acquired manner, he opened the box-door -somewhat abruptly, and in his natural gay agreeable way, such as is his -own when he ceases to remember he is an exclusive, he said, addressing -Lady Baskerville, - -"I have this instant had an invitation for you, which I am sure you -will accept with pleasure: it is from Lady Ellersby to go to Restormel." - -"Dear! la! Lord Baskerville, how odd you are--that is so like you--to -have forgot--and Lady Ellersby too, she must have forgotten, don't you -know _we were_ asked a fortnight ago." - -"Ah--hem! very true," and taking the hint which Lady Baskerville had -given him by an expressive glance, "hem! I _had_ really forgotten, I -always forget _those sort of things_, hem!" - -"Yes, and you said then, _if you_ remember, that _you_ would not go, -for that you thought of visiting Tunbridge, as you always conceived -Restormel to be a dull, damp place, and so unwholesome, with its -quantity of trees and stagnant water." - -"Ay--so I did,--hem! very true, and so it is, and now you put me in -mind, I rather suppose _we_, that is _I_, shall not go, for of course -_your_ ladyship will do as you chuse." - -Lady Boileau, though young in years, was too old a bird of fashion -to be caught with chaff, she saw through this matrimonial manÅ“uvre, -but was too prudent to let her perception be seen; and in regard to -Lady Baskerville's refusal on the subject of Restormel, she pretended -to take it as the latter intended it should be taken, and her outward -appearance remained unruffled, but at the same time it was marked -in the tablets of her memory, as a token of friendship _not to be -forgotten_. - -"Indeed," replied Lady Boileau, in answer to Lord Baskerville's last -remark, "you are both quite right, Restormel _is_ a _dull_ place, and -I advise you to secure a party for Tunbridge, in which I shall be most -happy to join you." - -"I will think about it, hem!" replied Lord Baskerville, "and consult -the Comtesse Leinsengen," and thus he bowed out of the box. Shortly -after, Lady Baskerville feigned a very bad head-ache and retired before -the end of the ballet. Not so Lady Boileau; she watched Lady Ellersby's -movements, and contrived to meet her in the room just at the very -moment when the crowd prevented her escaping. - -"What do you think I have been doing all night?" Lady Boileau asked? - -"Not listening to the Opera," replied Mr. Spencer Newcomb, who was -handing Lady Ellersby. - -"As if any body ever really came to attend to or listen to it!" she -observed; "it is the very last thing one comes to the Opera for," -yawning. - -"I have been much better employed," rejoined Lady Boileau, "for I -have been defending the _agrémens_ of Restormel against Lord and Lady -Baskerville's assertion of its being the dullest place in the world; -they both declared it always gave them the vapours." - -"So it does me," replied Lady Ellersby, again yawning, "and that is -precisely the reason why I take such special care never to go there, -without having it well filled. But then all places in the country are -alike, and one _must_ go out of town at Easter." - -"Well, Lady Ellersby, that may be true enough: all country places are -insufferably dull except it be to give a fête during the lilac and -laburnum season; but I think your friends might make some distinction -between _you_ and your _place_, and as far as I could observe there was -none made by the Baskervilles." - -"Oh was there _not_, he, he! Oh if such _is_ the case I am sorry I -asked them to-night." - -"To-night! did you not make Lady Baskerville the invitation long -before to-night? you will pardon my asking the question; I have a -particular reason, which I will explain to you hereafter, for doing so." - -"La, dear, no," yawning, "I never thought of asking any body _long -ago_." This, though in contradiction to her former declaration of -taking care to _secure_ a party, she was obliged to say in order to -avoid a marked rudeness to Lady Boileau, "and," she continued, "now -I have the good fortune to meet you, dear Lady Boileau, will you -and Lord Boileau have the charity to join us; and, notwithstanding -Lady Baskerville's terrific account of Restormel, venture to come -and _egayer_ its melancholy bowers; at all events it will be better -than remaining in town, and we will try to do what we can to render -ourselves agreeable to you." - -"I shall be delighted; we shall have the greatest pleasure in waiting -upon you, and am certain we shall be extremely well amused." - -The great object of Lady Boileau's day was now successfully attained, -and doubtless she laid her head upon her pillow that night with all the -satisfaction which such success ought to confer. Lady Baskerville, on -her part rejoiced in having as she thought so completely outmanÅ“uvred -her friend, and enjoyed the triumph which her superior skill in the -management of such matters, as well as her superior knowledge of _the -world_, had afforded her. Yet these women called each other _friends_! -How is that sacred name profaned, that name which can have no embodied -existence, but with the sincere and good, yet which is polluted in the -world's mouth at every instant. - -Restormel was, as it had been described by Lady Baskerville, an -exceedingly gloomy place, but all within the house was luxury; beyond -its walls, however, there were none of those moral circumstances which -can give interest even to the dullest spot. The scenery was monotonous -and insipid; but there might have been an enlivening character thrown -over the gloom, in the happy countenances and cheerful looks of -dependents and retainers, if such had been the will of the possessors -of Restormel. But this was not the case, the cold calculating system -of employment of the poor, merely when the purpose of keeping up the -grounds or other improvements made it necessary, and then taking no -further charge whatever of the beings so employed, regarding them only -as the labourers of the hour, conspired to give the place a moral, as -well as a natural gloom. - -No peasant's abode in these domains was ever cheered by Lady Ellersby's -presence; no sufferer in sickness or distress alleviated beyond the -donation of money, and that but seldom;--none of those heart-interests -in short were ever evinced, on her, or her Lord's part, which confer a -mutual delight on those who receive, and on those who bestow them, and -which maintain that link between the higher and lower classes, which -is at once so beautiful and so beneficial, and without which all the -luxuries in the world will never produce any thing but a melancholy and -unsatisfying grandeur. - -There certainly, however, were the means, if they had been resorted -to, for every laudable gratification of interest and entertainment at -Restormel. And where is the country place in which, if its possessor -fulfil the various duties the possession entails on him, the means are -wanting; and even as it was, if that sickly appetite for excitement -which characterised its present inhabitants could ever have been -satisfied, it must have been here, where every thing connected with -their system of life was found in profusion; but the factitious smiles -which gild the exterior of such a circle as was generally to be met -with at Restormel is not the sunshine of real happiness. - -Easter was now arrived and the party assembled at Restormel, consisted -of the Tilneys, the Tenderdens, the Baskervilles, the Leinsengens, -Luttermannes, Lord Tonnerre, Lady Hamlet Vernon, Lord Albert D'Esterre -(who was asked _on trial_), Lord and Lady Boileau, by the manÅ“uvre -which has been described, and one or two single men like Mr. Leslie -Winyard, Mr. Spencer Newcomb, &c. &c. - -These persons all met on the first night of their arrival at an eight -o'clock dinner. Lord Albert D'Esterre had been invited at Lady Tilney's -suggestion, who considered a country house a good stage for the display -of a new _debutant_, and as affording no unpropitious opportunity of -forwarding her wishes in regard to Lord Albert's political bias. These -wishes, however, were soon doomed to disappointment; Lord Albert had -accepted the invitation under the impression that in the country there -was more leisure and tranquillity than the hurry of a London life -allowed; but whether in the country or town, he might have known, had -not the fatal mist of delusion which comes over all who enter on a -tortuous path began to blind him, that reflection and serenity of mind -do not depend on time or place; that power, that calm, may be destroyed -or may be nurtured in cities, as in lonely wilds, it is true; but had -he thought for a moment, he would have felt that the gay assemblage in -which he was to mix at Restormel, was not calculated to restore him to -that state of mind which he believed himself anxious to regain. - -In the course of Lord Albert D'Esterre's acquaintance with Lady Hamlet -Vernon, he had discovered much to charm, to dazzle, and to lead a mind -so young as his into a maze of error. Sophistry had gradually drawn -its veil before his perception of truth; through this he viewed her -character; and under the same delusive influence, he persuaded himself -that the interest he took in her arose from the purest motive, namely -that of endeavouring to free from error, one whose nature was naturally -endowed with capabilities for becoming truly estimable. He listened to -all her dangerous and seductive opinions, while he gazed on her beauty, -bewildered with the false conviction that he did so to prove to her the -error of the one, and to point out the peril which, with such unfixed -tenets, the other would most probably lead her into. - -What a melancholy prospect, he inwardly exclaimed, lies before that -beautiful creature, whose principles have never been formed to virtue, -and who has been cast among those whose every axiom is contrary to the -laws of purity and truth! What delight in the reflection, what a good -action it will be, to disentangle such a being from the snares that -surround her, and restore her to a life of usefulness and happiness. My -heart aches for her, when I think how in early youth, before she could -know her own wishes, she was married to an unprincipled husband, one -who could never have known her worth; she must not be abandoned without -an effort to save her. Thus did Lord Albert parley with himself, till -a dangerous admixture of evil glided in with his better feelings, and -prevented that clear perception between right and wrong, which under -his engagements should have made him at once fly from Lady Hamlet -Vernon. It was _not_ so, however, and Lady Hamlet Vernon was more the -object that led him to Restormel, than any wish for, or sense of, the -necessity of retirement and reflection. - -The mode of living at Restormel was what Spencer Newcomb wittily -called the _foreign system_, that is, every pleasure-giving -circumstance was throughout the daily routine cultivated to the utmost -point which art could reach. To give an account of it in detail would -be a work of supererogation; for it was a transfer of London to the -country, only with this difference, that the post town and high road -took place of the streets of the metropolis; and the shrubberies and -gardens of Restormel, of those of Kensington and the Park; with the -exception, too, of a rather animated discussion between Lady Tilney and -Lord Tonnerre on the subject of female influence; and which brought the -parties into closer collision, than was consistent with the outward -harmony of exclusive _ton_. - -Little occurred during the first few days of the retreat to Restormel -to vary the monotony of the scene. With reference to this latter -subject, Lady Tilney remarked to Lady Baskerville, as they left the -dining-room, on the evening when the affair alluded to had taken place, -"I am very sorry, my dear Lady Baskerville, very sorry indeed, that -what I said should have taken such a desperate effect on your friend -Lord Tonnerre; however, it does every body good to hear the truth now -and then, and as he seldom if ever hears it, I think I have done him -service in sounding that tocsin in his ears for once in his life, don't -you, my dear?" - -"He, he, he!" tittered Lady Baskerville, who did not like to offend -the speaker, though she was really angry with her in her heart; "I -dare say you are quite right--but for my part, I never wish to teach -any body any thing; I was so tired of being taught myself, that -whatever reminds me of the dull days of being a good girl, and having a -governess, quite overcomes me." - -"Oh," observed the Comtesse Leinsengen, "what sinnify, whether dat Lord -is in a passion or not, nothing will ever change him. He knows but two -phrases in the dictionary, _I will_ and _I won't_, you _shall_ and -you _shan't_, and he do tink himself, and all dat belong to himself, -quite perfect, _c'est une ignorance crasse a tout prendre_, but what -_sinnify_ it? He was alway Milor Tonnerre, he _is_ Milor Tonnerre, he -will alway _be_ Milor Tonnerre; _laisser le grogner, c'est son métier; -en qualité de Tonnerre il grognera toujours, quesque ça nous fait? il -n'est pas notre mari laisse-le là de grâces_," and she looked at Lady -Baskerville as she spoke. - -This affair, however, did not pass over quite so easily as Lady -Tilney would have had it; and it ended in Lord Tonnerre's going -suddenly to town; and Lady Baskerville remaining in exceedingly bad -humour: for to be without an _attaché quelconque_ was as bad as to be -without a hat from Herbot's. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -FASCINATION--THE CHURCH-YARD, &c. - - -In a continued scene of frivolity, to call it by no harsher name, and -in the turmoil of petty passions and jarring female interests, passed -the hours at Restormel that led on to the most solemn period of the -year. Amongst the actors in it, Lord Albert D'Esterre cannot (with the -feelings and character which he still possessed) be supposed to have -held a part at all consistent with his true wishes; and, but for the -increasing and alarming fascination of his senses, and the warping of -his better judgment, by the influence which Lady Hamlet Vernon still, -day by day, more effectually exercised over him, he would have quitted -a society altogether, of which he could never really form a component -part, and _from_ which, but for the third power which held him in -combination with it, he must have quickly separated himself. - -But, however much this fatal influence might affect the general line of -his conduct, the good seeds sown in early life, though sadly choaked as -they had been, were not yet totally eradicated; and on the morning of -the Easter festival, he took his way to the village to obey the calling -bell of church. The service had begun when he entered, and it was not -till the first lesson was commenced that he lifted his eyes from the -book, and beheld in the family pew opposite Lady Hamlet Vernon. A flush -of various feelings coloured his cheek, and suffused with a richer glow -even the whiteness of his forehead. She is then, he thought, in despite -of the example around her, really good;--she has listened to my advice; -she has come to the fountain-head for instruction--all is well! He then -endeavoured to follow the service throughout its solemn beauty; but his -mind was disturbed, and his thoughts wandered. - -When the congregation was dismissed, of course he bowed and approached -Lady Hamlet Vernon with the greetings of the morning salutations, and -offering her his arm, they walked slowly on into the church-yard; -it was one of those quiet gray days, which belong neither to winter -nor spring, but owned affinity with both, and there was a freshness -in the odour of the new trodden grass, which might have been deemed -the precursor of flowers, had not a frosty air chilled the sweet -promise;--some fine old yews surrounded the church-yard, and the -gay colours of the country peoples' ribbons and cloaks appeared in -brilliant relief as they lingered beneath the dark boughs. - -The rustic curtsey, and abrupt inclination of respect, which were -offered in homage to Lord D'Esterre and Lady Hamlet Vernon on either -side, as they passed through the village throng, indicated that the -actions of those in the higher ranks of life can never be disregarded -by the lower; a kind of deep respect, and an apparent satisfaction, -sat on the countenances of these good people, and they showed by their -very looks and manner, that they felt the hallowing of the sabbath to -be a link of sympathy existing between them and their superiors, which -mutually allied them in the bonds of christian fellowship. - -These are feelings which, even in the uneducated, are still indigenous -to the human heart, and, if cherished and preserved, become as -productive of good as, when neglected or contemned, they tend to -incalculable evil. As Lord Albert and Lady Hamlet Vernon passed along, -the latter observed: - -"I love to linger here; these rude memorials of love and respect to -the dead" (pointing to the graves at their feet) "are a mournful -gratification to the living; they tell us that in our turn we may at -least hope to remain some short time in the memories of those whom we -quit; but after all, _tout passe_," and she sighed heavily;--"yes, -_here_ undoubtedly all that the proudest trophies can do, is for a time -to point the moral of a good or bad character by the stone that covers -or decorates the tomb." - -"But the tomb, dear Lady Hamlet, is only the repository of the dust; -it will itself become like the dust it covers; but never, like that -awakened dust, be infused with new life, a life far more glorious than -all that we can form an idea of; and we must look not _upon_, not _in_ -the grave, but beyond it, where death is swallowed up in victory." - -"_You_ can do this, and you are happy," she replied. A cold revulsion -struck on Lord Albert's heart as she paused and breathed with labouring -breath,--"and can _you_ not do so?" he asked in deep low tone and -shuddered as he spoke. She shook her head; and after a moment's pause -said, "all the happiness I know is confined to a few brief moments--a -few electric gleams of pleasure, which vanish in their birth; a -feverish uncertain and fearful catching at delight, which yet eludes -my grasp. These are all the means which I possess to obtain happiness; -yet, such as they are, and such as my success in them is, I would not -exchange them for yours--what! exchange your cold, leaden, measured -_theories of feelings_, for they are nothing more--or the beating pulse -of spontaneous joy, which even in this moment of our communing is mine; -no, Lord Albert, no--meanly as I think of myself when measured by your -standard in the general tenour of our existence, and in the scale of -being, there are moments when I soar above all that was ever dreamt of -in your philosophy,"--and as she spoke her eyes danced in a deceptive -brilliancy that for the moment turned Lord Albert's brain. He shuddered -as he felt the pressure of her arm on his while she uttered these -words, and his uncertain footsteps slid upon the base of a marble tomb. - -In the action of recovering himself, a kind of change seemed to pass -through his frame; so much are we influenced by trivial circumstances, -which yet are surely not the agents of chance; in so doing his eyes -rested on an inscription engraven on the stone, and as if glad to -escape from answering her, he read the following lines: - - They were so one, it never could be said - Which of them ruled, or which of them obeyed; - He ruled because she would obey, and she - By him obeying, ruled as well as he. - There ne'er was known betwixt them a dispute, - Save which the other's will should execute. - -"The lines are indeed beautiful," said Lady Hamlet Vernon, "and I -could be content to be the mould under that stone, if I had ever -enjoyed an existence to which they might with truth have been -applied--but as it is, _non ragionam di lor_;" and she sprang lightly -forwards, adding in a tone of affected levity, "let us make haste back -to Restormel; why, dear Lord Albert, we shall be laughed at if it is -known that we have been to church." The spell was broken, he made no -reply, and they continued the remainder of their walk in silence. - -"Hard, cold, insensate man!" cried Lady Hamlet Vernon, when she -reached her own apartment; "but he shall be met with an equal share of -self-love. I will subdue this haughty nature, and mock at him, when his -hour of suffering arrives. If he loved passionately any thing, even -that doll, that infant, that piece of clock-work Lady Adeline Seymour, -I could forgive him; but he does not, it is a systematical pursuit of -an ideal perfection, that leaves his heart always cold and untouched, -and fenced round as it were with adamant. Proud D'Esterre, thou shalt -weep for this"--and she paused for a moment, then collecting all her -thoughts, her final resolution was taken, and availing herself of a -communication which she had to make to Mr. Foley, who she trusted -might be instrumental to her purpose, with a breaking heart, and with -contending feelings she seized a pen, and traced the following letter: - - "I am happy to inform you, my dear Mr. Foley, that the official - patronage, which you have long wished me to procure for you, is now - actually obtained, and your arrival in town is all that is wanted - to arrange the necessary preliminaries. A letter received yesterday - informs me of this; but in the interim, I wish you could make it - convenient to pass a few days here on your road to London; for between - ourselves, this place and its society is insufferably dull; and were - it not for tilt and tournament between Lord Tonnerre and Lady Tilney - (who you know under the rose cannot hear each other,) we must have - all gone to sleep, or torn one another to pieces, or eaten our own - paws, like antediluvian hyenas, from the absolute want of mental - nourishment. But in this predicament, resembling people reduced to - starvation on a sea voyage, we cast lots to see who should first - be sacrificed for the benefit of the rest, and fortunately by the - address of Lady Tilney, the lot was made to fall on Lord Tonnerre, - who finished his existence amongst us, as he always lived, in a storm - of passion; the only one of the party, I believe, who regrets his - absence, is Lady Baskerville, who is now _sans cavalier_, and in the - Roman phraseology, _d'impeccarsi_. I advise you then by all means to - come quickly, and to supply the vacancy. - - "But to leave joking, I must tell you my dear friend, that I languish - for a rational companion, and one who will kindly enter into my - feelings; nobody understands me here;--too good, and too bad, I am - like Mahomet's tomb, hanging between heaven and earth, and I find no - resting place for my sick soul, nor shall I, 'till you come with your - kindly smile, to solace my weary spirit. Come, therefore, and that - without delay, for you well know that when any thing is to be done, it - had best be done quickly--all delays are dangerous, and with me they - are despair. - - "Would you wish to know something of those you will meet here? I have - only to mention their names, and refer you to our old note book; I see - no great visible change in any of them. Mr. Spencer Newcombe has been - here for a few days, and is certainly the _most_ diverting man in the - world; and well he may be, for he lives entirely for that purpose. - - "Lord Albert D'Esterre is here also; he sets up for a censor and - corrector of men, manners, and things. He will have enough to do, - if he persists in this unpopular walk; but I am much mistaken, if - he will not soon find it a very arduous undertaking, and one indeed - which is quite hopeless. If he were but content to do as other people - do, who live in the world, and to be a little more like his day and - generation, and a little less of Don Quixotte, he would really be a - pleasant person. He does not, _par parenthèse_, seem in a hurry to - join his betrothed, which I think is rather a good sign; for I should - have but a poor opinion of a man who did as papa and mamma ordered, - and fell in love precisely as he had been desired to do in the days of - his childhood. - - "The Tilney, the Leinsengen, the Baskerville, the Boileau, go on in - their usual way; and like the old quotation, though they all differ, - yet they all agree in one thing at least, which is wishing the society - of your agreeable self; so under pain of not only my displeasure, - but that of all the world's, come quickly, and delay not. Adieu, and - believe me to be the most true of your true friends. - - "H. V." - -In consequence of the occurrence of Lord Albert's morning walk, he -felt little inclined to join the circle on his return to Restormel; and -was in a mood too replete with contradictory feelings, to allow him to -reflect calmly, still less to enable him to decide sanely upon the only -vigorous step he should have taken, namely, to flee from temptation. -He excused himself under the plea of being unwell, from leaving his -own room; and sitting down with a determination of communing with -his own heart, he found not the habit so easy, after long neglect; -and was conscious that he mused, without deriving any fruit from his -contemplations. - -But by degrees, this confusion of mind subsided; and then came that -soothing composure, which, after a state of emotion, is always welcomed -with something like pleasure. He opened a favourite author, Owen -Feltham; and he could not read long, without seeing his own necessities -reflected in the page, as in a glass; this is one way by which to prove -whether a moral or religious work be sterling or not, does it apply to -our necessities? does it first probe, and then salve our wounds? Lord -Albert D'Esterre found this book did both; and in its perusal, there -was a sanctity of enjoyment to which he had been long a stranger. This -enjoyment was, however, too soon disturbed by his servant bringing in a -note; he felt it as an unwelcome intrusion; but it was opened after a -moment's hesitation, and contained the following words: - - "I am anxious to know how you really are. I too am unwell, and I dread - lest I should have have said or done something this morning, which - may have offended you--oh! if you know how terrible it is for those - who have none to care for them, to suppose for an instant that they - have given pain (however, unwittingly) to the only person whose good - opinion they are anxious to possess, and who has evinced an interest - in their welfare--you would now feel for me. I am not of those who - make a display of their heart's feelings--far from it, I am a miser of - the few treasures which lie hoarded there; it is for that reason that - I mingle with the rest, as though I were one of _them_; and that I am - now writing these troubled lines in the midst of the insipid turmoil - which surrounds me; _tout comme si de rien étoit_. Aid me in bearing - my grievous burthen of existence, and send me one line to be a cordial - for the moment at least; the present moment's ease is all I ever hope - for." - -What an overturn to all composure was conveyed in this little bit of -perfumed paper; fifty commencements of reply were made and torn; at -last he rang his bell, summoned his valet, and having given a verbal -answer to the effect that he would shortly obey the commands of Lady -Hamlet Vernon, he appeared in the drawing-room almost as soon as she -could have expected a written reply. She was sitting apart from the -rest of the company with a look of abstractedness and melancholy, the -effect of which was heightened by extreme paleness; her beautiful dark -hair was less carefully arranged than the laws of fashion demanded, but -it was not the less beautiful for that, and some stray tresses fell -gracefully upon her neck; her air, her dress, the subdued expression of -her eyes, were all captivating, and precisely in Lord Albert's _own_ -way. - -There was a carelessness or scorn of _fashionable_ dress, which -particularly suited his theories on the subject, not that his practical -admiration had not fifty times been excited by a very different mode of -attire; for the fact is, that men's tastes in respect to the costume of -women are always regulated by that of the person they are in love with. -On this occasion, however, it is certain that Lady Hamlet's attire was -in the letter and in the spirit precisely what Lord Albert D'Esterre -pronounced perfect. She held out her hand to him as he entered the -saloon with the composed air of friendship, and expressed her pleasure -at seeing him, for she had feared his indisposition would not have -allowed him to leave his room: and then motioning him to sit down by -her with that expression of calm interest, which attracts without -affording any plausible application of the sentiment to a more vivid -interest, she secured her object, and he occupied the vacant seat next -to her's. Mr. Leslie Winyard, who was playing _écarté_ (even on the -sacred day) with Lady Boileau, while the rest were studying and betting -on the game, called to Lord D'Esterre, "ah! Lord Albert, we have all -been guessing the reason of your absence; one said writing letters -of love, another sleeping; but the successful guess was given to my -penetrating judgment, writing a sermon on the vanities of human life, -that is, holding up to censure all that we your friends are doing." - -"I assure you, Mr. Leslie Winyard, that you have not proved your -judgment infallible; for I do not plead guilty either to _your_ charge, -or to any of the others." - -"Well, then, join in our game; Lady Boileau intends to beat me, and -I'll vacate my seat in your favour, and, in parliamentary phrase, -accept at the same time as many hundreds as you may choose to give me." - -"Pardon me," said Lord Albert, "I cannot." - -"Did you suppose Lady Hamlet Vernon would let him do so?" whispered -Lady Baskerville. - -"That may be," replied Leslie Winyard, "but my life for it that is not -his reason, he will not play because it is Sunday." - -"Sunday, is it?" yawned Lady Ellersby; "dear me! I did not know it was -Sunday." - -"Leslie Winyard declares you will not play because it is Sunday, Lord -Albert D'Esterre," exclaimed Mr. Spencer Newcomb. - -"Whatever may be my motive, or my fancy for not playing," replied Lord -Albert, "I conceive that it is at variance with the high good breeding -of this circle to inquire further into the matter, though, if it will -afford any satisfaction to Mr. Leslie Winyard, I have not the smallest -hesitation to give to him those motives." - -"I am bounden to you, my Lord," rejoined the latter, putting his hand -to his heart, "but for the moment waive the honour of hearing more, -being at the very crisis of the game," and so saying he turned to the -card-table, and left Lord D'Esterre to the undisturbed enjoyment of his -conversation with Lady Hamlet Vernon. - -She first broke silence (speaking in a low tone). "How many misnomers -there are in the world; this society considers itself the mode and -paragon of manners and of fashion--the world _par excellence_; and yet -the members of it are always doing or saying something to offend the -feelings of each other. Why was a being like myself thrown amongst -them? one who sees their falsehood and folly, and yet cannot escape -from it. But on the contrary, every day as it passes seems more and -more to entangle me. I possess indeed one friend, from whom I look -for consolation; but _he_, like every one in this world, has his own -troubles, and indeed I have sometimes feared, that is I fear"--she -broke off abruptly as if to find a suitable expression for what -she would say, then again continued after a pause--"that I did not -altogether act a generous part by him; one may excite a deeper interest -than one intends, for it is so soothing to a desolate heart, to find -any one whom it can like, and rest upon, that it is easy to be betrayed -into a conduct, that would afterwards perhaps render one obnoxious to -the imputation of coquetry; the character for which of all others, I -have the most decided contempt. I have not yet learnt from you, Lord -Albert D'Esterre," laying particular emphasis on her words, "that -firm independence of mind, which never yields under circumstances; -for whatever vain disputation I may hold with myself, I find I am -continually yielding to the influence of events, and floating down -the tide of life, guided more by impulse, than by principle. It will -perhaps be as well in the end--who knows?" - -Lord Albert D'Esterre had listened with evident pain to the sophistry -these words contained, and as Lady Hamlet Vernon paused, added in his -most impressive manner: - -"Oh! dear Lady Hamlet Vernon, I fear it will undoubtedly _not_ be well -with us in the end, if we live by chance; and we may all know, if we -chuse to know, that so to live will prove our condemnation." - -"Persuade me of _that_, teach me your knowledge, and I will act upon -it; give me your conviction and I will bless you." - -"Surely," thought Lord Albert D'Esterre, "it is my duty to reclaim -this person from the unhappy and destructive errors into which she has -fallen; it would be altogether wrong, it would be barbarous, to abandon -one, who calls upon me for aid, who appeals to _me_ for instruction." -Not but another view of the subject crossed his mind, for thoughts, as -we all know, flow in from contradictory sources. - -"Surely the friend to whom you allude, and on whom you say you rely, -will be a far more able instructor than I can be." - -"Ay, so he might (she replied) if"----"If what?"----"If I durst on all -occasions apply to him--but--but there are existing reasons to which I -before alluded, and which I now frankly tell you, have frequently made -me deny myself the consolation of his society. We shall see how things -are now, when we are to meet again after a long absence." - -Lord Albert D'Esterre could scarcely misunderstand the meaning which -these words implied, and he was too delicate to press the matter -further; but when they separated for the night, the chief point which -was impressed on Lord Albert's mind was, that Lady Hamlet Vernon -was beloved by Mr. Foley, and if she did not positively return that -sentiment in its full degree, that she owned a preference in his -favour, to which it was very nearly allied. Yet if it were so, why -should that circumstance cause him uneasiness? It could only be from -the interest he had imbibed for a person, who seemed intended for a -higher and better career than the one she was pursuing. - -Men, even the very best of men, frequently deceive themselves on -similar occasions; they are not, perhaps, _in love_, they do not mean -to be so; still less is it their intention deliberately to awaken an -interest which they feel they cannot return: but though they are few, -who would attempt to _win_ a heart under these circumstances, and -merely for the triumph of doing so; _all_ are not sufficiently free -from vanity to _refuse_ one, when spontaneously offered, nor, while its -possession can be valued for the passing gratification of self-love -_only_, voluntarily forego the distinction which its homage affords. -That such was the predicament in which Lord Albert D'Esterre stood, or -that such was the train of his thoughts, it would be difficult to say. - -Lady Hamlet Vernon's conduct and manners towards himself certainly -betrayed partiality, which it was impossible to avoid seeing; but it -was equally impossible to attach to them the decided character of love; -and even were it so, Lord Albert stood pledged to an engagement of -the most sacred nature, and one which had it been intimated to him he -could have abandoned, he would have started from the contemplation of -its possibility; still, however, his mind was under delusion in regard -to Lady Hamlet Vernon, and the interest which he would have persuaded -himself was felt for her sake only, was, it is to be feared, nearly -allied to a sentiment, which in his circumstances never should have -been entertained. - -If, however, Lord Albert D'Esterre was wandering in the maze of -undefined resolution, and with an uncertainty of object, in all his -speculations, not so Lady Hamlet Vernon, who well marked the nature of -the interest she was gradually acquiring over him, and which she hoped -soon to see augmented in a degree which would render him completely her -own. - -Many days did not elapse from this time before Mr. Foley arrived. -With that refinement of tact which all women understand so well, Lady -Hamlet Vernon made her first approach towards the object she had in -view, by producing between Mr. Foley and Lord Albert D'Esterre a mutual -partiality. - -She effected this, as is often successfully done, by repeating -favourable opinions respecting each, which were uttered, or were -not uttered, as it chanced by the parties one of another; "_mais on -ne s'avise jamais de tout_," and there was one circumstance which -operated against her wishes whilst cementing their intimacy. Thus was -the influence which Mr. Foley's vivid description and praises of the -attractions of Lady Adeline Seymour produced on Lord Albert D'Esterre's -mind. Although somewhat diminished by absence and by the too great -security he felt of conceiving her to be beyond the possibility of -change, these attractions still retained their power, and it needed but -the description which he more than once listened to of her beauty and -her worth, as the theme was dwelt upon by Mr. Foley, to revive in him -all the latent feelings of his love and admiration for her. After this -revival of the natural allegiance of his heart, Lord Albert D'Esterre -started from his wayward dream as though he had been warned by his -better angel. Shaking off the listless unaccountable thraldom which had -of late palsied his resolution, he ordered post-horses, and determined -to set off for Dunmelraise the very next day. - - -END OF VOL. I. - - -LONDON: -PRINTED BY J. L. COX, GREAT QUEEN STREET. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: - -Obvious printer errors have been corrected. 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Vol. I., by Charlotte Campbell Bury. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover-image.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1, h2, h3 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -h1 -{ - text-align: center; - font-size: x-large; - font-weight: normal; - line-height: 1.6; -} - -h1 small -{ - font-size: small; -} - -.center -{ - text-align: center; -} - -.spaced -{ - line-height: 1.5; -} - -.space-above - -{ - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.big -{ - font-size: large; -} - -.small -{ - font-size: small; -} - -.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } - -.pagebreak {page-break-after: always;} - -.border -{ - border: 1px solid; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.covernote { - visibility: visible; - display: block; -} - -blockquote { - display: block; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 40px; - margin-right: 40px; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poem { - margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; -} - -.poem br {display: none;} - -.poem .stanza {margin: .1em 0em 1em 0em;} - -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Exclusives, Vol I., by Charlotte Campbell Bury - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Exclusives, Vol I. - -Author: Charlotte Campbell Bury - -Release Date: October 13, 2017 [EBook #55744] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EXCLUSIVES, VOL I. *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Whitehead and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img class="border" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" src="images/cover-image.jpg" id="coverpage" width="500" height="613" alt="Cover for The Exclusives. Vol. I." /> -<div class="transnote covernote"> -<p class="center" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;">The cover image was restored by the transcriber and is -placed in the public domain.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" style="page-break-after: always;" /> - - - -<h1 style="margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 2.5em;">THE<br /> EXCLUSIVES.<br /> VOL. I.</h1> - -<hr class="chap" style="page-break-after: always;" /> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> -<img src="images/image1.jpg" width="425" height="598" alt="Title page for The Exclusives. Vol. I." /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" style="page-break-after: always;" /> - - - - -<p class="center" style="margin-top: 40em; margin-bottom: 1em;">LONDON:<br /> -Printed by J. L. Cox, Great Queen Street,<br /> -Lincoln's-Inn Fields.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" style="page-break-after: always;" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h1 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2em;">THE EXCLUSIVES.</h1> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 56px;"> -<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="56" height="10" alt="fancy line" /> -</div> - -<h2 style="margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER I.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 1.5em;">THE BOUDOIR.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> boudoir of a woman of fashion exhibits -in its history, if faithfully recorded, a -picture of the manners, modes, and morals of -the times; and, however little such things -in themselves might deserve to be handed -down, or registered as objects of imitation, -yet to chronicle them for the day would not -be without its use. The sensible part of -mankind would laugh at the follies, and wonder -at the extravagance, which the page of -such ephemeral history unfolded; while the -actors in the scene might possibly view in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -mirror held up to them their own lives, and -their own actions, in a new and truer light.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney's boudoir,—the boudoir <i>par -excellence</i>,—was not in fact a boudoir, according -to the old legitimate meaning of the word. -Indeed, Lady Tilney herself, the presiding -deity of the sanctuary, professed her contempt -of legitimacy in boudoirs, as well as in sovereigns; -at least she did so in words, though, -like many other professors, her words and -actions frequently contradicted each other; -and it may be questioned if there are any -greater despots, than those who inveigh most -against despotism.</p> - -<p>But to return from this digression to the -boudoir. Lady Tilney's boudoir was destined -to the reception of far other votaries -than those of the old <i>rabattu</i> god of love. -No: her boudoir was visited by persons of a -very different character from those who were -formerly the frequenters of such a scene. -Authors, poets, political intriguers, artists, -and committees for the management of the -state of society, formed the chief personages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -among those who figured there, and their business -was of a very different complexion from -that of the supposed use, or original meaning -ascribed to a boudoir.</p> - -<p>In the former, of old, the painted harpsichord, -the huge cabinet, the gigantic chimney-piece, -the tapestried wall, were suited to the -silken garb, and bag and sword, that formed -the attire of the male part of its visitants; as -well as to the hoop and fly-cap of the ladies -who presided there. In this modern temple -of idolatry, only a few of the ancient -decorations were allowed a place, such as the -marquetry cabinet, the <i>or-moulu</i> clock, or vase -of China; but for the rest, what a change!</p> - -<p>Volumes of worth, and works of merit and -deep learning, were now covered by the novels -of the day, or hidden by trivial elegancies -newly imported from Paris; while on the -walls, the rare productions of Titian or Vandyck -were intermingled with some chalky -portrait of the modern school, tricked out in -the millinery geer of the fashion of the day. -Scattered on the tables, however, there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -redeeming feature in the character of the -decorative objects which met the eye, for -there lay some richly chased gold ornaments, -the works of Benvenuto Cellini, or some one -not less skilful, though it may be of forgotten -name; and while these ornamented the apartment, -they served the double purpose of -affording Lady Tilney an opportunity, not -only to discourse on their beauty, but to enter -into all the particulars of Cellini's strange -life.</p> - -<p>Add to this description of the boudoir and -its visitants, the occasional presence of Lady -Tilney's beautiful children, and its portraiture -is closed; but not so the genius and history -of all the transactions, councils, and cabals -which took place there. These will be best -understood, by passing from the boudoir to -Lady Tilney's own character and pursuits; -if to describe these by any means were indeed -possible: but it would be an endless, hopeless -task, to enumerate all that Lady Tilney did, -or fancied <i>she did</i>—still more what she said; -for to do her justice, her's was no vapid existence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -of the mere routine of a London lady's -life.</p> - -<p>No—indolence was not the besetting sin, -insipidity was not the vice of her <i>morale</i> or her -<i>physique</i>. But as to enumerating severally the -subjects which employed her care, and the -various branches of these subjects into which -she diverged, that indeed would be difficult. -Her life and occupations may, perhaps, be -best delineated by representing them as one -vast bazar of interests, all equally claiming -her attention—"the court, the camp, the -senate, and the field:" certainly the field of -Newmarket, where it is said she regulated her -husband's calculations and interests with great -success.</p> - -<p>These objects, and many more than these, -which, as the charlatans say at the end of their -lists, are too tedious to mention, filled up the -life of this laborious and distinguished lady. -Nor were her labours less onerous in managing -the government of the society of <i>ton</i>. -Her rule was there despotic—her word was -law;—and if some few persons pretended to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -step aside, not following the fashionable multitude -in bowing the knee to Baal, or ventured -to think for themselves in the circle in which -she moved, immediately, as though by an -enchanter's wand, they were banished thence, -and some more amalgamating spirit was chosen -to fill up the vacancy. There was a kind of air-gun -fired, which was sure to hit the mark, -without betraying the hand that drew the -trigger: a sort of <i>lettre-de-cachet</i>, as effectual -as those promulgated in the times of Louis le -Grand, which consigned to oblivion the offending -persons, while the victims themselves could -not fathom any cause or assign any particular -reason for the sentence.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, in the very midst of this -ruling and reigning, this despotic sway in the -court of <i>ton</i>, a secret dissatisfaction existed in -the breast of Lady Tilney. She, indeed, was -one of those haughty liberals who affect to -despise kings and courts; not because they -dislike those necessary evils, as they call them, -but because they are themselves, or would be -if they could, the greatest of all sovereigns.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<p>Notwithstanding, therefore, the high ground -of rank and situation on which she stood, it -rankled at her heart to have offended her sovereign, -and to feel herself an object of just dislike -to him; for, however great the magnanimity -shewn to her on the occasion of her -offence, still to be aware that, under circumstances, -she could no longer be considered a -favourite at court, was in itself a source of the -deepest mortification. Impressed with this -consciousness, what was to be done? Why, render -all courts the subject of flippant raillery; -vote them and their sovereigns old-fashioned -bores; erect herself into a queen, and have a -court of her own. In truth, this plan agreed -better with her self-love than any other; because -sovereigns and courts, in as far as regards -the outward decorum of forms, regulate -and keep society in its proper course; whereas, -under the sham dynasty of <i>ton</i>, caprice bears -rule, and tyranny in its worst sense marks the -conduct of those who sit on its ephemeral -throne.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>Connected with this system, the pride of ancestry -too was necessarily another subject of -ridicule with Lady Tilney, who thought that -those who, on such grounds, pretended to take -any lead in the world of fashion, had much -better retire to their castles, and there indulge -in dreams of their greatness.</p> - -<p>Nor did Lady Tilney's thirst for power end -with her effort for universal dominion in matters -of <i>ton</i>—she had another ambition, that -of leading and controlling the political party -to which she had attached herself. Here, however, -her sway was more imaginary than real; -and often the long-headed politician, or crafty -diplomate, as they listened with apparent complacency -to her advice, allowed her words to -fall unheeded on their ear, or laughed at her -in secret. With the young and uninformed -aspirants in the career of political life, Lady -Tilney had, perhaps, more success; and many -a rising scion of a noble house has been known -to adopt, under the influence of her smiles, -and from a foolish vanity of being noticed by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -her, a line of conduct quite at variance with -the wishes of their parents, and to the sacrifice -of their own best interests.</p> - -<p>In this grasp at power, however successfully -achieved, Lady Tilney felt herself ill at ease—her -mind was continually harassed by reflections -on the tottering and uncertain tenure -of <i>ton</i>, and the possibility, nay, probability, -of some younger, newer person, climbing to -the envied seat which she then possessed. The -fear of a certain Duchess of Hermanton was -constantly before her imagination, as the embodied -object of her alarm; and she considered -it as a measure little short of self-preservation, -to secure her influence, if possible, on a still -firmer basis, by some decided act, or the invention -of some fresh folly. As to Almack's, -that circle of exclusiveness had been polluted; -its brief course was run, and its brightness on -the decline.</p> - -<p>The more Lady Tilney reflected on the -subject, the more she became convinced of the -expediency of her intentions; and determined, -therefore, to mature her plan immediately.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -Having despatched her notes to the Comtesse -Leinsengen, Lady Tenderden, and Lady -Ellersby, she commanded that no one should -be admitted to her presence but themselves.</p> - -<p>"Yet stay, Destouches," she added to the -page, as she issued her orders; "Prince Luttermanne -by all means, should he call." And -then, having given audience to three cooks, -four painters, two authors, an authoress, and -several milliners, she finished with advice to a -poet and a critique upon his work.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, before the arrival of the personages -she had written to (for Lady Tilney -knew the value of intervals), arranged her list -of engagements; tossing some into the fire—with -the velocity of one well practised in the -weight, measure, and value of names; and examining -others of more importance. She determined -to mar all that might interfere with her -own views in society.—"Mrs. Annesly, truly -what a griffin! and the Countess of Delamere, -and Lady Melcombe!—but the Marchioness -of Borrowdale! that indeed requires attention." -Lady Tilney rang the bell—Destouches appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -in a minute—the peculiar hasty touch of -call was known to the well-appointed page. -"Send Arquimbeaud here!" and the distinguished -Arquimbeaud soon obeyed the summons. -"I have determined to have a party, -Arquimbeaud, next Thursday; see that cards -are issued for that day, according to this list."</p> - -<p>As he withdrew, Comtesse Leinsengen was -announced. The immense bonnet and deep -veil—the splendid cashmere and still long petticoats -(although they were generally worn -very much shortened), afforded a favourable -costume to the lady who now advanced; certain -defects were thus concealed, and imagination -might lend that delicacy of slimness and -form to the feet and ancles which pervaded the -rest of the person, but which did not characterize -those of the Comtesse.</p> - -<p>The rapid volubility of the one lady, and -the sharp short sentences of the other, began -the conference. Lady Tilney placed the most -luxurious of all the luxurious chairs close to -the fire, pushed forward the screen, and with -the eagerness of apparent friendship, seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -to wish to make her visitor quite at home: or, -as she expressed it, "deliciously comfortable." -"You have learned that word now, dear Comtesse,—indeed -you have adopted it; and there -is no one who understands the thing so perfectly -as yourself."</p> - -<p>Midst all these courtesies and courtings the -Comtesse observed a sort of abstracted air, -though they were (and so far Lady Tilney was -sincere) things of course.</p> - -<p>"My dear Comtesse, I am so glad we have -a minute alone, to discuss our plans. I have -many things of consequence to say to you; but -before I begin I must speak to you of that -horrible affair of poor Lady Mailing's; it is -quite impossible to support her any longer, -for you are aware her secret is publicly known. -So long as she was prudent, and observed appearances, -it was all very well; but <i>now</i> it will -be impossible for me to receive her. You know -I never did receive any body who placed themselves -in a similar situation—not even my own -relations; my character has always been <i>intacte</i>, -and I cannot <i>compromète</i> myself, though I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -am very sorry for poor Lady Mailing; and had -she only avoided this <i>esclandre</i>, and managed -her affair prudently, I would have stood by her -to the end; but as it is—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, certainly not," interrupted the Comtesse; -"you must be conscious that every one -knows Lady Tilney's high reputation, and it -would never be supposed dat you would countenance -a belle passion; vraiment, quand on -est tellement dupe as to sacrifice sa position -dans le monde, to a man's vanity, or to be -playing de sentimentale at forty, it is quite -enough to make one sick, and she well deserves -to be vat you call blown. <i>Mais, de grâce</i>, do not -let us prose more about her—<i>vat sinifies?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Oh, very true, and then there are other -matters of so much greater consequence to consider. -Do you really think that this administration -will hold—you who are in all the -secrets?—positively you must tell me. I am -sure if that man (lowering her voice to a whisper) -is at the head of affairs, all must go wrong—poor -England! what will become of you? -But we will never allow that—shall we?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh! trève de politiques, ma chere, si vous -m'aimez; it is a subject quite marital, and -therefore, you know, not at all in my way. -What I want to revolutionize, or rather to reform, -is your state of society."</p> - -<p>"Precisely, my dear Comtesse, it is the very -subject on which I wished to talk to you, when -I wrote requesting to see you—you received -my note, did you not?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; but it is an affair on which we -hold such very different opinions. My maxim -is, se bien amuser d'après sa propre volonté—that -is what I want to do; and to tell you the -truth, I am ennuyé à la mort in your London -world—every thing is so stupid here! Vat -signify dat tiresome Almack, after all? It was -good enough at first, when it put people in -a passion, et pendant que se faisoit fureur; -but now that, somehow or oder, you liberales -admitted every petite demoiselle vid her red -elbows, and vulgar mama to take care of her, -it has lost all its character, and I positively intend -to withdraw my name. Besides, de lady -patronesses cannot even maintain a seat at de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -top of de room—de oder night I find Lady -Melcombe and her daughter perch up in my -seat; and though I walked over them and -stared them down, dey positively took no hint, -but sat still so comfortably vulgar it was quite -provoking. No, no, my dear, Almack's day is -finish and de thing must fall—so never stay by -a falling friend; when a person or a ting -begins to totter, leave it."</p> - -<p>"Very true," rejoined Lady Tilney; "there -is much truth in what you advise (and she -looked very grave). But then, you know, my -dear Comtesse, you must consider the independence -of our constitution—which makes it -very difficult—"</p> - -<p>"Not to have a stupid society.—Agreed."</p> - -<p>"But the great number of our nobility," -rejoined Lady Tilney, "and the weight and -consequence of a still greater number of influential -members in the other house"——</p> - -<p>"Renders all your pretences of a société -choisie mere pretence."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, Comtesse, you have yourself -owned that my parties are select; and you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -yourself, although in a public situation, contrive -to leave out those who do not suit your -purpose. After all, what can tend more to -the preservation of society?—than such impertinence" -was on Lady Tilney's tongue; -but she checked herself, and added with a -little cough that gave time for reflexion: -"What can tend more to the maintenance of -a société distinguée than the exercise of this -choice, made without reference to the rank or -situation of the parties, but merely dependent -on the voice of the few who are formed to lead?"</p> - -<p>"Very true," rejoined the Comtesse Leinsengen, -"and if that system was properly upheld, -it is the only chance of not being <i>obsédé</i> -by vulgars;—but you do not act upon it -sufficiently. As to myself, I can no long bear -de whole ting; my health does not permit of -your late hours, and I generally go away -when your company are beginning to arrive. -And then these great routs of your Duchess -D'Hermantons and your Ladi Borrowdales and -Aveling, sont à dormir de bout."</p> - -<p>"Agreed, my dear Comtesse, I do so agree<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -with you; it is the very matter I am longing -to discuss with you. Do let us settle something -amongst ourselves, that shall rid us of all these -evils, and establish a <i>société à part</i>. I must -tell you what I have already done to effect this -purpose. You know that odious Lady Borrowdale -has one of her everlasting At Homes next -Thursday, to meet their Royal Highnesses the ----- as usual, that vulgar decoy; so I have -therefore countermanded my former invitations, -and issued my cards for that very day—Nobody -will go there, will they?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps not many; and if some do, there -are plenty left."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Lady Tilney, with ill-concealed -anxiety, "but you know the royalties always -do accept her invitations."</p> - -<p>"What matters dat—you do not care for -royalties." For an instant Lady Tilney's command -of language was checked—she almost -betrayed her vexation, when fortunately the -name of Lady Ellersby was announced, whose -dawdling drawl, as she entered the apartment, -smoothed over the asperities which began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -mark the conversation, and which might have -rendered it in the end a little too <i>piquante</i>.</p> - -<p>"My dear Lady Ellersby," said Lady Tilney, -"how charmed I am to see you. I was -dying to meet you, to consult you, to enjoy -your entertaining society." The Comtesse -Leinsengen smiled significantly, as she said, -"And so was I."</p> - -<p>"Consult me! La—well, that is something -quite new—nobody ever consulted me; but -pray explain what you mean."</p> - -<p>"Oh! we want to establish some regulations -by which our society shall be distinguished, -and which shall save us from the -inroads of all these people whom we are constantly -meeting, and obliged to be civil to, -whether we will or no—in short, something -that shall make us, as we ought to be—a <i>race -à part</i>."</p> - -<p>"I thought," Lady Ellersby replied, "we -always were that."—"To be sure we were; but -then, my dear, you know abuses will creep in, -and all constitutions require from time to time -to be strengthened or reformed, according to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -circumstances; and you know, my dear Lady -Ellersby, that we have all of us long since -lamented that Almack's, which was excellent -in its way, has now, from the infringement on -its privileges, become quite corrupted from its -original design, and something positively must -be done, or we shall be overwhelmed <i>en masse</i>—something -to stem this torrent, this inroad -of Goths and Vandals."</p> - -<p>"Dear me, that sounds very alarming—you -quite frighten me; I don' t understand you—pray -tell me what it is you propose."</p> - -<p>"Why," answered Lady Tilney, "we wish to -form a society entirely to ourselves, which shall -be quite exclusive—a society for which we shall -settle <i>d'avance</i> every particular and qualification -of the persons who may be admitted to it. -Thus you see (turning to the Comtesse Leinsengen), -my dear Comtesse, we shall never do any -thing but in concert with each other, and -never invite any one but those who entirely -suit us. You understand me now, don't you?" -addressing Lady Ellersby.</p> - -<p>"Oh dear, yes! I think I do."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, no, you do not understand her. Permettez—in -one word I will explain vat Lady -Tilney mean to say: voici le mot de l'énigme—you -are all English, and though you do your -<i>possible</i> you cannot help being English. You -are all afraid in dis country to do vat you like -best; and though Lady Tilney propose to ask -only de chosen few, you will none of you do so -in reality, take my word for dat. You talk freedom, -but act in chains. Now we, au contraire, -<i>chez nous</i>—we women I mean—do de freedom, -and never tink of de chain at all; but whenever -you ladies make your lists for your parties -for instance; den comes—dis is not politic, -<i>toder</i> is not right,—dis is not my husband's -pleasure; some scarecrow or anoder is always -driving you off de land of amusement. Now -you say you will open your doors only to -those you like, and you are right—dere is no -oder secret for to make pleasant society; but -you will <i>not</i> do it nevertheless, ladies, for you -are all de cowards."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, my dear Comtesse," rejoined Lady -Tilney, "you will find that we <i>shall</i>, though—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -I think effectually; although there are certain -principles in our constitution which extend -to the ruling even of private life—and these -the wives of certain nobles cannot wholly overlook." -Comtesse Leinsengen shrugged her -shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Ah, dear, it is as I thought, you are de -woman I like best in dis country; but you are -all over shackle, up to de ear in de <i>qu'en dira -t'on</i>! De plebe ought to be made of de noble's -opinion, not de noble constrained to dat of de -vulgar."</p> - -<p>"That may do very well with you," rejoined -Lady Tilney, "but with us as an unqualified -maxim it will never do. I grant, Comtesse, -all that you say can be done in one's own -house, where one makes one's own laws and -rules in one's own way: so far it is only asserting -one's own right to liberty, and as far as -we can persuade people to be of the same way -of thinking it is all right. But I have too much -liberty in my heart to desire to tyrannize as -you suggest; and, in fine, confess myself too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -much of an Englishwoman to wish to see -your system prevailing amongst us."</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney said this in a tone of English -pride, which proved that she had not forgotten -all that was best worth remembering, although -it was in contradiction to the spirit of what -had fallen from her a moment before.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, however, dealt largely in contradiction -at all times. The Countess Ellersby -smiled; the Comtesse Leinsengen again -shrugged her shoulders, drew her shawl around -her, and was preparing to depart, saying, -"Well! mes chères dames, I leave you to -the enjoyment of your liberty, and have -done."</p> - -<p>"But I have not done," said Lady Tilney; -"I am determined we shall have a society that -shall be quite our own, and yet not subversive -of principles we must uphold. (Another -shrug of the shoulders.) Allow me to say, that -if you, Comtesse, and you, my dear Lady -Ellersby, will but second me, I am sure we -shall not fail, and I know I may reckon on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -Prince Luttermanne co-operating with us;—so -far so good."</p> - -<p>"And Princesse Luttermanne?" inquired -Lady Ellersby.</p> - -<p>"Oh, for the prince's sake we must have -her," replied the Comtesse Leinsengen, "D'ailleurs, -<i>dans ma position</i>, it could not be oderwise—in -all cases we must pass over des inconveniens—besides -she is good-humoured, and has -<i>her own fry to fish</i>, and will not trouble us -much."</p> - -<p>Lady Ellersby and Lady Tilney looked at -each other, and laughed. "And then," observed -Lady Tilney, "we have Princesse de la -Grange, and Mrs. Kirchoffer; we must enrol -them on our list (although they are sufficiently -insipid), because they can be useful, and dare -not act but in subserviency to <i>us</i>. But, Lady -Boileau, what shall we do with her? She indeed -has a will of her own, and she has a mother -very much <i>de trop</i>, whom however she -treats cavalierly enough (of which, by the way, -I do not approve); but, notwithstanding, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -think we must have her, though we can by no -means be troubled with the mama."</p> - -<p>"Certainment pas," cried the Comtesse, "for -the Irish mama with her vulgar repartee would -give a mauvaise tournure to de whole society."</p> - -<p>"There you are right; and while we admit -the daughter, remember, it is only on -sufferance, just on the same footing as we -admit Mrs. Kirchoffer, and as I propose that -we should also do Lady de Chere and Lady -Hamlet Vernon, and——"</p> - -<p>"Mais, que faire de la jeune lady," interrupted -the Comtesse, "qui parmi un certain -set is a good deal de vogue, Ladi—Ladi,—vat -you name her?"</p> - -<p>"What, Lady Baskerville?" asked Lady -Tilney; and then replied, "Oh she must be -one of us, to be sure, for I think we can -make use of her—she only longs to be in the -fashion, and her husband also. Flatter their -vanity, and you do with them what you chuse; -make them believe they are of the <i>ton</i>, and -you have them at command."</p> - -<p>"Well, den, now you have named all de -ladies I suppose, and dere is but one cavalier; -do you mean us to be a convent, and -have no gentlemen?"</p> - -<p>"By no means, my dear Comtesse; of -course there will be all our husbands." Here -the Comtesse Leinsengen had recourse to her -usual expressive gesture of contempt. "And -then," proceeded Lady Tilney, "there is -the Duke of Mercington, Lord Raynham, -Lord Tonnerre, Leslie Winyard, and Frank -Ombre,—Spencer Newcombe,—and we must -not forget Lord Glenmore; though I wish -he were more decided in his political creed. -Besides we cannot omit Lord Albert D'Esterre, -whom we must have on probation, for -he is young and only just returned from -the Continent; but they say he is very -clever, and I think may in time become one -of us. But, ere we decide further on the -gentlemen, we must consult Prince Luttermanne."</p> - -<p>"Ah! bon chere ladi" (with a nod of -approval). "Quite so," added Lady Ellersby,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a><br /><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -languidly; "for, though he is called good-humoured, -he can be as cross as is necessary. -I never saw any body <i>walk over people</i> better -than he does."</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, who had been for the last -minute or two busily employed with her pen -setting down the names which she had just -mentioned, interrupted Lady Ellersby, saying, -"By the bye, there is one rule very -necessary to be observed, which I am sure -we shall all agree in; that is, to admit no -unmarried ladies, unless something very particular -indeed should make us waive our resolve. -When I say this, I do not, of course, -mean to <i>balls</i>; but I mean to those coteries -which will in fact constitute the élite of our -society. And then I propose that we none -of us go to the old-established dullifications; -but, on their nights, each one of us must in -turn take care to chuse that same evening for -our coteries."</p> - -<p>"Dat vill do very well for de Lady Borrowdale, -and de Lady Aveling, and dat old Marchioness—vat -you call her—Feuille morte; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -La Duchesse D'Hermanton, vat vill you do -vid her? it is not so easy to <i>take dat lionne par -la barbe</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh," rejoined Lady Tilney, for this was -a name she feared to offend, "the Duchess -is not one of us, it is true; but we need -only walk once a year through her apartments; -and we can bear that—besides, she is a -sort of person" (apart)—and Lady Tilney -broke off abruptly from a subject, in itself -always disagreeable to her.</p> - -<p>"And now," she went on to say, "having -formed the outline of our plan, we have only to -follow it up, and I am sure it will be successful. -I wonder Prince Luttermanne and Lady Tenderden -are not come, for I wrote to them both; -and I should have liked that we talked the -matter over altogether. However, I cannot -doubt but they will agree with us in our arrangements; -and if you, dear Comtesse, and -you Lady Ellersby, will see Princesse de la -Grange and Mrs. Kirchoffer, and Lady Baskerville, -I will take care to speak to the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -parties. Of course I shall see Prince Luttermanne -some time or other this day, and Lady -Tenderden, for they must have received my -notes; and I will settle with him about our -gentlemen." Then addressing the Comtesse, -she added, "I need not, I am sure, remind -you, who are so discreet, that the success of -every thing which is to produce éclat depends -upon the secret combination of the movements; -and therefore, in speaking to the different -parties, pray impress on their minds the -absolute necessity of privacy, and not to let our -designs be known beforehand by a premature -publication of them, but rather let them be -developed by their effect; and when their existence -will have been confirmed beyond the -possibility of counteraction."</p> - -<p>"Assurement laissez moi faire."—And here -Lady Ellersby, looking at her watch, started -from her chair, saying, "Dear me! I had no -notion it was so late. I had an appointment -with my Lord, and it is past the time. Bless -me! what shall I do?" Then making her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -adieu, with more vivacity than was her custom, -she departed in greater haste than she was -ever known to do before.</p> - -<p>"Who <i>is her</i> Milord just now?" asked -Comtesse Leinsengen.</p> - -<p>"Oh fie! malicieuse," replied Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Is it again dat little consequential personage -who looks like a perdrix santé aux -truffes? I fancy I saw something like a réchauffé -getting up between them de oder night -at Lady De Chere's."</p> - -<p>"Now really, my dear Comtesse, I must -defend my friend. People are always so ill-natured—one -must have some cavalier, you -know, to walk about with in public—and scandal -always ascribes evil where none exists. No, -no; Lady Ellersby has too charming a husband -for this to gain credit for a moment." The -Comtesse's usual shrug implied comme vous -voulez, and she added, "it is truly extraordinary -how any body can call dat ladi handsome, -vid her drawn mouth and peevish expression!"</p> - -<p>"Surely she has a sweet smile?"—"When it is -not a bitter one," rejoined the Comtesse; "but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -what <i>sinifies</i>? she does very well for what she -is good for. Now I must go, and you must be -de active agent in settling our Lady Parliament; -as for me, I will have a sinecure post."</p> - -<p>"You are quite delightful, Comtesse, and -ought to have every thing your own way; so -good bye, if you <i>must</i> go. I will remember to -see Prince Luttermanne; I will not let the -matter rest—adieu," and they kissed each -other's cheeks on both sides, "adieu!"—"You -will not let de matter rest—no, I am sure you -will not—nor any oder ting or person," thought -the Comtesse, as she glided out of the room. -"How frightfully red her nose is become," -observed Lady Tilney, soliloquizing, as she -looked at her own smooth cream-coloured skin -in the glass.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER II.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">CHARACTERISTICS.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> Lady Tilney's character a hasty outline -has been attempted in the preceding chapter; -falling short, however, as it is confessed every -attempt must do, to delineate all its varied -features. Something, however, may have been -gathered, by viewing her in the midst of the -group assembled in her boudoir; and the portraiture -will be rendered still more distinct, as -the character of her associates are further developed.</p> - -<p>Of Lady Tilney herself it may be said, that -that real or pretended contempt of rank which -she affected to entertain, arose from the circumstances -of her own parentage, which, on -her mother's side at least, was not noble; to -the same cause, also, may perhaps be attributed -her anxious irritability, ill concealed under a -forced gaiety, lest the respect and homage -which she considered to be her due, should not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -be paid her. There was a restlessness in her -assumed tranquillity, wholly unlike the easy -natural languor of her friend Lady Ellersby, -to which she would gladly have attained, and -which it was always the object of her ambition -to imitate; but she never reached that perfectibility -of <i>insouciance</i>, which marks a superiority -of birth and station.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding the part which she consequently -was obliged to play, there was still a -good deal of nature in her composition; much -more than in that of the person whose demeanour -she envied;—and had not her character -been influenced by a life of dissipation, she -seemed designed to have passed through existence -diffusing usefulness and cheerfulness -around her. Much might be said in extenuation -of Lady Tilney's faults and follies, courted and -caressed as she was; as indeed there is ever -much indulgence to be extended to all who, in -situations of power and of temptation (however -many their foibles) remain free from positive -vice. The voice of censure should be guarded -therefore in its condemnation; remembering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -that the inability to do wrong, or the want of -allurement to yield to it, are often the sole -preservatives against similar errors.</p> - -<p>In commenting upon such characters as -Lady Tilney's, it is not for the purpose therefore -of attaching blame to the defects of the -individual, so much as to point out the dangers -attendant on their peculiar stations, and to -shew how far even noble natures are liable to be -debased by constant exposure to a baneful influence. -Were not this the object of a writer, -idle and contemptible indeed would be the -pen, which could waste its powers in tracing -the vanities and follies of a race which always -has existed in some shape or other, and possibly -will always continue to do so.</p> - -<p>There is an indulgence of spleen, a silly -gossiping espionage, which delights in prying -into the faults of others, without any motive -but that of the gratification of its own mean -nature—but there is an investigation into the -habits and manners of the actors in the scene -of fashionable folly, which, by dispelling the -illusion, may preserve others from being heedlessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -drawn into the vortex of so dangerous -a career. A sermon would not, could not, -descend from its sacred dignity, to effect this—a -philosophical or moral discourse, would -have as little chance of working such an -end;—but a narrative of actual occurrences -may perhaps give warning of a peril, which -is the greater because it bears outwardly, -and on a cursory view, no appearance of -future evil; for to the young, and indeed -to all, there is a charm, and a very great -charm too, in being something superior, something -that others are not, or cannot be. No -one acquainted with human nature will ever -contradict this. The question of vital importance -to be asked is—In what ought this distinction -to consist? and what will really give -it? Certainly <i>not</i> a life of dissipation, in -which the affectation of new modes and manners -constitute the business of existence; certainly -<i>not</i> the sacrifice of moral and religious -duty, to a courting of frivolous homage and -the pursuit of an empty <i>éclat</i>.</p> - -<p>These, however, it is to be feared, are more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -generally the spurious objects of ambition with -persons in fashionable life, than the solid -advantages, and lasting fame, which their -situations afford them the means of securing. -And if it is thus with the world of fashion in -general, how much more was it the case in -the circle in which Lady Tilney reigned! -Herself and her friends had no thought that -tended to any specific moral purpose, in the -strict sense of the word. The duties that -were performed, were such only in a negative -sense; they went to church, they lived with -their husbands; some of them, but not all, -had escaped scandal; they were fond mothers, -at least in the eye of <i>their</i> world; they were -alive to their offsprings' interests, at least their -worldly interests; and beyond this, it is to be -feared, neither for them, or for themselves, did -their views extend.</p> - -<p>Here may be closed the catalogue of their -moral possessions. Of their outward shew of -manner and courtesy, where so much in a <i>soi-disant</i> -empire of ton might be expected, perhaps, -there was still less to praise: a <i>brusquerie</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -of address took place of polished breeding, -where intimacy permitted any address at all; -and where none was allowable, an insolent -carelessness marked the behaviour, instead of -that polite courtesy which is ever the distinguishing -mark of really good manners.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, had she not stood on the -'vantage ground of <i>ton</i>, might have been -called vulgar: the loud and incessant talking, -the abrupt and supercilious glance and motion, -had it not been backed by title and an assumed -superiority, would have been designated by a -very different name from that under which her -manners passed current; and even as it was, -they sometimes received a reproof which, however -affectedly scorned, was deeply felt. An -instance of this occurred on the occasion of -her receiving the homage of a distinguished -foreigner; when, in the intoxication of the -moment's vanity, Lady Tilney forgot the -respect due to one of exalted station, rudely -turning her back, and brushing past him in the -dance, a disregard of etiquette which he -whose manners are all elegance and condescension,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -would never in his station have shewn -to the meanest of his subjects, and whose sense -of delicacy and propriety is so acute, that -wherever female manners are concerned, none -could better know how to condemn whatever -derogated in the slightest degree from them.</p> - -<p>It was to the displeasure incurred by this -circumstance, and to the loss of favour which all -who have ever lived in its sunshine cannot fail -to lament when withdrawn, that allusion was -made, in speaking of Lady Tilney's contempt -of sovereigns and courts. Here was to be -found one bad effect of a system which, while -false in every sense, arrogated to itself perfection -in all.</p> - -<p>There was no immorality to rebuke in this -instance of Lady Tilney's conduct; but it proceeded -from a source, which if not in her, in -others at least, might be productive of serious -consequences; namely, from a contempt of -established rules and received opinions; and if, -in the midst of this arrogance there was a redeeming -spirit of occasional kindness,—a smile -which took the heart captive for the moment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -and gave promise of better things,—it only -caused a regret that the good which was there -should be thus choaked by the noxious weeds -of vanity.</p> - -<p>Some of Lady Tilney's companions in <i>ton</i> -had not, like her, escaped the breath of slander; -one or more were supposed to have listened, -at least, to that corruptive voice of gallantry, -which withers the bloom and freshness of a -married woman's reputation; whose error is -remembered long after its cause has passed -away—let it have been real or imaginary;—in -either case the effect on a woman's character is -the same. It is in vain that in a certain sphere -there exists a tacit agreement to pass by, and -gloss over such defamatory tales; the persons -coming under their degrading mark have a -seal set upon them, which, in spite of themselves, -and maugre the usage of <i>their</i> world, -is nevertheless destructive of peace; and it -requires little penetration to see beneath the -forced smiles which are put on with the adornments -of the toilette, the gnawing worm that -preys upon the heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>The fatal effects of such errors attach only -to those guilty of them; the feeling inspired -for their situation would be one of pure commiseration; -but, alas! the influence of example -is contagious, and whatever is felt for the individual -who thus errs, the sentence of condemnation -must go forth against the crime. In -regard to the other members who formed Lady -Tilney's intimate circle, the Countess Tenderden, -Princesse de la Grange, Lady de Chere, -and Lady Boileau, for instance, there was equal -matter for remark, varying with the character -of each. The first of these, possessing nothing -decided in her composition, had been, from the -commencement, a follower in the track of -others, and it was owing to this laziness of disposition -that she became the ready and obedient -slave of fashionable command, as well as from -her early initiation into the secrets of <i>ton</i>, -rather than from any other cause, that she -held the place she did in Lady Tilney's estimation.</p> - -<p>Lady Tenderden's unsatisfactory and frivolous -existence had thus been passed without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -any decided plan, except that of being generally -impertinent, and of courting personal admiration; -which, when it is paid to beauty -alone, ceases with the first cessation of youth: -the consciousness of which fact added no genuine -sweetness to the smile of Lady Tenderden; -but left her, although in the possession -of most of the outward circumstances -which could grace existence, with a fading person -and a dissatisfied mind.</p> - -<p>Princesse de la Grange was a star in the -midst of this false galaxy of <i>ton</i>, in as much as -a strict regard to married duty, and a preservation -of moral and religious principle, gave to -her character a superior brightness; but whether -from the taint of the poisonous air she -breathed, or from a defect of strength of mind, -or from the situation she filled, or from all -these circumstances combined, the Princesse de -la Grange did not escape entirely the pollution -of folly, and she too delighted in the vanity of -being exclusive.</p> - -<p>In the love of being distinguished above her -compeers, Lady de Chere, however, far excelled;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -attaining a perfection which her exceedingly -clever and powerful understanding, -together with the management of her conduct, -and an appearance of general decorum, enabled -her to preserve. Nor were her moral qualities -alone conducive to her success: she had besides -the advantage of being able to set her face like -a flint (which indeed it resembled physically), -and she deemed all emotion or all expression -of natural feeling (even that of bodily kind) -to be a weakness unworthy of a woman of -fashion. Lady de Chere was once known on -an occasion of personal suffering, when a few -tears actually escaped her, to have exclaimed -to her attendant: "You are the first person -in the world who have ever seen me guilty of -such weakness." Nay, she even carried this -perfection of induration so far, as to boast of -having cut her own mother.</p> - -<p>In this last instance of the perfectibility -of <i>ton</i>, Lady Boileau yielded not the palm—she -had remained a good many more years -than she had bargained for, unmarried—she -had studied under a mother, whose lessons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -eventually were but too well rewarded in kind. -This mother, however, had loved <i>her</i>; and -with much and unremitting labour, had effected -for her an alliance of title—of wealth. -What more could either of them with their -views desire?</p> - -<p>Lady Marchmont had established her daughter -greatly, and the daughter had accepted the -marriage upon certain calculations: such as -being her own mistress, independent of her -husband, or her mother; who knew too well -<i>de quel bois elle se chauffoit</i>, for Lady Boileau -to like her surveillance. Lady Boileau had -then made no scruple of swearing to love, -honour, and obey him whom she loved <i>not</i>, -held <i>cheap</i>, and determined to <i>resist</i>. But these -words, and too many more, bear a totally different -signification, it is well known, in the language -of <i>ton</i>, from what they do in their common -acceptation.</p> - -<p>One of the first steps of Lady Boileau after -her marriage, was to gain admission into the -circle of Lady Tilney on a footing of intimacy; -for although she had been on visiting terms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -with her, yet she was aware that the mere interchange -of cards did not constitute her the -friend or protégé of Lady Tilney, to which -distinction she aspired. There were one or -two circumstances, however, which rendered -the attainment of this object rather difficult. -In the first place, Lady Boileau had a mother -whom it would require more decided measures -to detach from her than, as it has been seen, -Lady Tilney chose to countenance. The general -tenour of her conduct, too, was a thing yet -unproved, and it was, therefore, still unascertained -how far she might be true to their <i>esprit -du corps</i>, and be worthy of admission into this -circle. Lady Boileau was considered, notwithstanding -these impediments, to be a person -of promise, and she was accordingly admitted, -with the tacit understanding, however, that she -was not to push Lady Marchmont indiscreetly -on the scene; where her wit and plain speaking -might break forth in corruscations too -potent for the <i>tendre demi-jour</i>, or rather darkness, -in which the proceedings of the <i>ton par -excellence</i> were invariably to be veiled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was, however, one person whose name -has not yet figured in the catalogue, but whose -character of mixed good and evil, would require -a powerful pencil to delineate; for the -many amalgamating tints which united and -harmonised its opposing lights and shades were -any thing but an easy task to give—divested of -these, the portrait would become caricature. -How often does marriage, especially in early -life, give a colour to the future conduct of -women. Had Lady Hamlet Vernon married -differently, she was possessed of qualities which -would have rendered her estimable as well as -amiable; and was mistress of talents which, if -properly directed and matured, would have rendered -her a being distinguished above her sex. -But this was not so; she had married for situation, -and soon found the burthen she had imposed -upon herself far outweighed the advantages -she had contemplated in the step she had -taken. Unhappiness was the first natural result; -and in the absence of religious principle, -young, beauteous, and fascinating, she soon -found in the universal admiration paid her, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -delusive balm to alleviate the society of a husband -considerably older than herself, and who -had married her from the pride of calling a person -so admired his own. Under these circumstances, -Lady Hamlet Vernon could not remain -without the stigma of slander attaching to her.</p> - -<p>The early demise, however, of Lord Hamlet -Vernon liberated her from the hazard of her -situation, and at five-and-twenty she found -herself again free. Titled, and with great -wealth at her command, she was too clever for -the empty votaries of folly, but too clever also -to be entirely set aside by them. She was, at -the same time, too much <i>sujetté à caution</i> to -be admitted on terms of unguarded intimacy -amongst those in her own sphere who were -observers of religious and moral conduct, and -who happily form the aggregate of distinguished -society in England. Left without choice, therefore, -as to who should be her associates, Lady -Hamlet Vernon was drawn into a society where -the errors of her early conduct were, by the -contagion of example, sure to be confirmed, -and the remainder of any good principles that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -she might have possessed, in danger of being -subverted; for it was not the least evil arising -out of the system of the society alluded to, that -the persons composing it were under a compact -of exclusion of all who differed from them -in habit and opinions; and, thus deprived of -the power of comparison, their own conduct -wanted that useful touchstone of its rectitude.</p> - -<p>We are all alive to impressions daily -made upon us; and if a life of carelessness -and dissipation is not to be checked by an occasional -example of what is truly excellent -and worthy in character, the moral perception -between right and wrong of its mistaken votaries -will soon be blunted, till at last both their -ears and eyes are closed to all remonstrance. -The riper in years, therefore, were sure to have -their false estimate of life confirmed; <i>they</i> -could not return on their steps, even if they -wished it; while the young and the inconsiderate -were taught to believe, that those who had -so long followed in that destructive but glittering -career, were the only objects worthy of -imitation, and in their turn became hardened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -actors in the scene. Although the characters -hitherto produced as slaves to this system have -been of the weaker sex alone, still let it not be -imagined that they were its only victims, or -that they alone played their part in upholding -it.</p> - -<p>If possible, the men of the society were many -of them as frivolous, and more vicious; and, -though here and there might be found a character -that, from family connection or ignorance -of the tendency of the society, mingled in its -contamination without infection, or making a -wreck of principle, yet, far from these solitary -instances detracting from the general truth of -what has been said, it will be found that such -persons, the moment they became aware of the -lurking evil, broke from it abruptly; though -perhaps, saving themselves with difficulty from -the entanglement.</p> - -<p>In the members, however, which swelled the -list of the male part of this circle, few indeed -were there who ever made an effort to withdraw -from it. Vice and folly, in manners and -in dress—male coquetry—ineffable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -impertinence—ignorance—detraction of virtue which -might have resisted, or talents which eclipsed -them—insipidity in mind, and effeminacy in -person—devotion to luxury,—these, and more -than these, if such could be catalogued, of the -immoralities and follies of man, were all to be -found here, in degree and kind, revolving in -their different orbits—and fulfilling their allotted -parts in the system, till their existence -closed. What though wit might sometimes -play around their board, or the quick repartee -enliven the monotonous circle of the evening—what -though talent might be allowed, for a -brief season, to expatiate on higher topics, -and the deep discourse of great human learning -might be suffered to dwell at intervals on -subjects more intellectual—yet what profited -this to those who listened or to those who -spoke?—The moment's amusement, the indulgence -of mere curiosity, the establishing of -some political tenet or philosophical dogma, -were alone the objects looked to. Talents, -when found in this society, were in fact directed -to none but <i>worldly</i> views; and the feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -which should have guided their possessors to -acknowledge the bounty of the Author who -bestowed them, and a faithful employment of -his gifts, was not only wanting, but the sacred -religion of that very Author was too frequently -made an exercise for them—a subject -of their scorn or cavil.</p> - -<p>Though untitled, yet of noble family, there -was one, who figured first as most licentious -and unprincipled among the devotees of <i>ton</i>. -He was handsome, winning, specious; but he -concealed under this attractive exterior a heart -of the blackest dye; no sense of right or wrong -checked its impulses. All to him was lawful -that was attainable. Pleasure was his object; -and he had sailed down the short voyage of his -life unchecked by any of those reverses, unscared -by any of those feelings of shame or -compunction, which would have operated on a -weaker mind; and if, for a moment, some -enormity of conduct made the more timid—they -could not be called the more virtuous—of -his associates recoil, the hardened face, the -laugh of carelessness, the ready excuse, soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -dissipated these transient feelings of shame; -and patronized, courted, upheld, in that true -<i>esprit de corps</i> which bound each member of -the society to protect the other, his youthful -career had been run from excess to excess.</p> - -<p>Although a person whose weight and influence -in themselves were not great, yet he -formed from his habits and opinions, and the -talents which (though perverted) he really -possessed, one of those ties in a fabric, which -being multiplied, keep the whole body compact; -and, having once obtained a footing -in Lady Tilney's circle, it followed, as a -matter of course, that he should be employed -in that remodelling of her society, which it -has been seen Lady Tilney was so anxious to -effect, and his name therefore was not forgotten -in the list, concerning which she -intended to consult Prince Luttermanne.</p> - -<p>It is well for human nature, that many -characters such as have been just described are -not often found; it certainly had no compeer -in the circle in which it moved. And though -the folly of dress—the waste of time—the uselessness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -of life—indulgence in the excess of -luxury, are errors and faults that cannot be -too strongly held up to animadversion, yet -they are, by comparison, of a venial kind. -Their effects, however, ultimately do not prove -such; for degradation of intellect must follow a -course of indolence, and an obtuseness of conscience -must be the consequence of long-neglected -duties. Let it not be supposed, therefore, -that because Lord Boileau, Lord Baskerville, -Lord Marchmont, or Lord Tonnerre, -were younger and less matured in a vicious -course than another, that therefore their conduct -was less deserving of moral censure—the -seed that is sown in spring time will grow up -to the harvest, and it must be reaped accordingly. -The pursuits of a careless life of -pleasure, the gaming-table, the society of -opera dancers, the intrigues of <i>ton</i>, are not -preparations for the maintenance of family -consequence and wealth, still less for the fulfilment -of the duties of married life, the protection -of a wife's conduct, or the education of their -offspring. Yet these, it is to be feared, were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -the sole objects of Lord Boileau, of his companions, -and of many others.</p> - -<p>Besides these, however, there were characters -intended to be included in Lady Tilney's arrangements -of a far different complexion, and -the very reverse of their inexistence—there -were noble politicians, whose lives were passed -in any thing but inactivity; there were titled -wits, whose places were any thing but sinecures; -poets, whose lays found frequent subjects in the -galaxy of beauty that surrounded them; and -painters, whose talents and winning flatteries -constituted their patent of nobility. The admission -of all the latter personages was a decided -evidence of Lady Tilney's supremacy; for, -with few exceptions, she alone considered that -to be surrounded by talents was essential to -high station, since with the generality of her -coterie, the idea of mingling intellect in their -pleasures, was rather to destroy than heighten -them.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, however, in the end prevailed, -and no society of <i>ton</i> was in future considered -complete without those appendages. But even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -Lady Tilney's command of the suffrage of -talents was not always absolute; and once, it -is said, a man of holy profession, whose celebrity -in his calling had led the London world in -crowds to be his auditors, though thrice bidden -to the shrine of fashion, declined, with steady -consistency, to form one of a circle whose conduct -in life it was his duty to reprove.</p> - -<p>It is not to be supposed that the list of cavaliers -is yet full with the names of the persons -just alluded to; there were many others too -insignificant to bear designation—and enough -of portraits. Catalogues of these can only be -interesting to a few curious collectors, and are -very unsatisfactory to the generality of persons. -It is living with the actors on the shifting scene, -which can alone, for any length of time, engage -the attention, or be productive of any just -understanding of the character. To note down -their actions as they occur, and to develope the -system by which their lives are regulated, will -be the easiest, as well as the most profitable -task; for although there may be something -which at first appears unnatural, and scarcely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -to be recognised as truth, in the idea that there -exists a regular and defined system in lives, -which at a hasty glance seem spent in the careless -manner of the persons represented, nevertheless -it is so—and there is a depth in their -folly, which requires to be sounded,—there is -a mischief in their apparent carelessness, which -it is wise to detect—there is a principle of -latent evil under this seeming incipiency of -conduct, which requires to be unfolded, and -shewn in its true colours.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER III.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">AN OLD-FASHIONED ASSEMBLY.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Although</span> the outlines of Lady Tilney's -project had been generally settled, yet some of -its details were still wanting; and in the interval, -she determined on one of those movements -in the game, which a crafty adversary sometimes -makes to cover an ultimate and deeper -end. The Marchioness of Feuillemerte held -one of her assemblies, and as it was admissible -to appear in such a circle once at least during -the season, <i>sans se compromettre</i>, Lady Tilney -devoted herself for that evening to the unpalatable -task, and engaged Lady Ellersby to -meet her.</p> - -<p>After casting a glance of inquiry round the -room, "My dear," said she, "did you ever in -your life see such an heterogeneous multitude -(she loved long, hard words) as are assembled -here?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, except here"—"Figures," continued -Lady Tilney, "<i>renouvellés des Grecs</i>—creatures -dug out of Herculaneum, only not so elegant; -all George the Third's court I believe; -and then such a tiresome eternity of -royalty, persons who never die, and whom -Lady Feuillemerte, and Lady Borrowdale -have preserved, together with themselves, in -spirits, I believe, to exhibit on their great -nights."</p> - -<p>"Yes," rejoined Mr. Frank Ombre, who -had been permitted to overhear the whisper, -and smiling with one of those doubtful expressions -which might do for tragic or for -comic effect, "we do not want royalty now -to keep us in order,—that is quite an obsolete -idea. No, we have more enlarged views; we -like to turn every thing, <i>sans dessus dessous</i>—don't -we Lady Tilney? I am sure I had rather -bow to the sceptre of your beauty, than -to that of any prince or princess—and you -know I never flatter." At that moment a -royal personage entered the assembly, when -Lady Tilney, under pretence of going away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -hurried to the door, saying, "oh, do let me -avoid this <i>seccatura</i>."</p> - -<p>"Do, Mr. Spencer Newcombe," addressing -this privileged friend of her own circle who -stood near her, "do call my carriage,"—in -the meanwhile placing herself in a situation -that made it impossible, without rudeness, for -the person whose approach she would have -appeared to shun, to pass her by unregarded; -a behaviour which, however consistent with -Lady Tilney's ill breeding, when she wished -to shew dislike, was never known to attach to -any of the family who were the objects of her -pretended contempt.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney did not, on the present occasion, -make her arrangements in vain, and was -not only spoken to, but held so long in conversation -by the royal person who entered, -that she had the satisfaction of hearing her -carriage repeatedly announced, till every -individual of the assembly must have been -aware of the cause of her delay. The dense -crowd, however, which now encircled the -prince, seemed to oppress Lady Tilney, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -affecting to be almost overcome by the pressure,—a -pressure which in fact she was herself -causing, by obstinately keeping her place, and -not allowing the conversation to drop—she -was at length gratified by an offer of the arm -of royalty to lead her to a seat, on which she -sank affectedly, while the prince took that -next to her. In one of the pauses of conversation -which ensued, Mr. Ombre chanced to -find himself exactly at the back of Lady -Tilney's chair, and she took an opportunity of -whispering to him, "how tiresome!" He -shrugged his shoulders, and replied in her ear, -"I pity you from the bottom of my heart," -(adding aside to Spencer Newcombe), "As I -do every one who always succeeds in every -thing they wish."</p> - -<p>Shortly after, the prince rose to depart to -speak to others, while Lady Tilney having -made good her right to royal attention, now -prepared to express her contumely of every -thing regal, and to resume the exercise of -her own right to absolute power in her own -person.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Do, Mr. Ombre, sit down and let me have -a <i>little</i> real conversation with you, for I am -sick of all the <i>fadaises</i> which have just passed." -"What a fortunate man," he rejoined, "shall -I be, if I have only a <i>little</i> conversation with -Lady Tilney!—you know I never flatter,—and -besides that distinction, a seat,"—dropping -carelessly into the one that was vacant.</p> - -<p>But Lady Tilney did not read these words -otherwise than in the sense to which they were -agreeable to her, and immediately her hitherto -repressed eloquence broke forth.</p> - -<p>"Have you read the Male Coquet? Do tell -me, is it not exquisite? Among all the trash -heaped upon people of fashion, this alone is -well done. It must be confessed that, in spite -of its severity, the whole is well drawn, and -though highly coloured, not a daub."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have read it, and I like it; but -the world don't."</p> - -<p>"No! well I cannot conceive why—perhaps -you can tell me.—Not like it! indeed you surprise -me! Why, it has already gone through -three editions."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, in the advertisements! but they say -the publisher is ruined, nevertheless."</p> - -<p>"Well! that is quite extraordinary! I -thought all the world approved it."</p> - -<p>"The world!—the world, my dear Lady -Tilney, is a very ill-natured world, though -you have never found it so; but you will some -day."</p> - -<p>"Oh, do not imagine," cried Lady Tilney, -a little displeased at her supposed want of -discernment, "do not suppose that I am not -quite aware of the world's ill-nature—only—"</p> - -<p>"Only you are bound, my dear friend, to -suppose it otherwise, since, in its opinion of -you, it does indeed make an exception."</p> - -<p>"You know I hate flattery, Mr. Ombre."—"Well, -well, I have done; but in some cases, -what appears flattery, is truth. Besides, I -never <i>do flatter</i>."</p> - -<p>"Come, come," said Lady Tilney, "never -mind! let us return to the Male Coquet, I -have not half done talking about it. What -do you think of the character of Lord Algernon, -is it not delightful, is it not quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -perfect?—And for that very reason, quite -detestable."</p> - -<p>"My dear lady, I never knew but one perfect -person in the world whom I could bear; -do you guess who I mean?"</p> - -<p>"Dear me, are you still here?" said Lady -Ellersby, approaching at the moment.</p> - -<p>"Yes—you know when those royalties <i>will</i> -talk to one, it is impossible to get away."—"Ah, -true—and it is so fatiguing."—"Royalties—dose -royalties, and you mind <i>dem</i>?" -said the Comtesse Leinsengen, who had caught -Lady Tilney's words as she passed, leaning on -the arm of the Minister for Foreign Affairs.</p> - -<p>"My dear Lady Tilney, I wonder to see -<i>you</i> here—but you always do de reverse of -what you talk, you know—I tell your so."</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney was embarrassed, and looked -around for an escape from the conversation. -She saw the half-formed sentence preparing -by Lord Rainham; which, however, she knew -must undergo the necessary process of -preorganization and arrangement before it was -addressed to her. Luckily the Comtesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -Leinsengen pressed forward before this could take -place, and Lady Tilney, to avoid any more -sarcasm on her inconsistency, willingly allowed -for once the witty Lord to pass without a word. -Mr. Ombre, who was still by her side, and -had lost nothing of the scene, gave his word -of consolation to Lady Tilney, as he remarked:</p> - -<p>"How appropriate to the situation which -he fills;—the ready orator, the decided projector -of measures and expedients,—how truly -great a minister! You know, Lady Tilney, I -never flatter. I really think so." Lady Tilney -had no wish to continue the subject, and turning -to Lady Ellersby, remarked,</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see such jewels as the -Duchess of Hermanton's? How vulgar to wear -them in such quantities; she is like a walking -chandelier. But, look, there is Lord Arlingford; -he is coming this way—I want to speak -to him, and if you move a step or two forward, -I shall be able to do so." Lord Arlingford -was accordingly arrested on his passage, -for he had not intended to converse with Lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -Tilney, but was looking on towards a group of -persons, in the midst of whom stood the -Duchess of Hermanton. "Well, Lord Arlingford, -how surprised I am to see <i>you</i> here; -are you not bored to death?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Lady Tilney," he asked, in return, -"should you be surprised to see me in an assembly -to which half London is invited?"</p> - -<p>"That is precisely the reason," she replied, -"I should have thought you never went to -these sort of things; they are very tiresome, -and I am sure you must be dreadfully annoyed."</p> - -<p>Lord Arlingford was not an apt <i>élève</i> of -Lady Tilney's, although his high rank and -connexions had made her sedulously endeavour -to direct his education in the world of -<i>ton</i> from his very first <i>début</i>.</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, not in the least <i>ennuyé</i>. I -do not come often enough, or remain long -enough in these places, to be sickened by the -shew—and <i>as</i> a shew, it is a very splendid one, -and I like to see so much beauty as is here to-night -gather together."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Fewer at a time," said Lady Tilney, -"would be more agreeable, I should think."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps so, for habitual private society; -but then that is quite another affair: all things -are good in their way, and in their proper -season and measure." Lady Tilney was mortified -at this very rational distinction of the -indocile Lord, but went on to say, "At least -you will allow that a circle more <i>choisie</i> is -preferable—and one comes to this sort of mob -only as a kind of disagreeable duty."—"Duty! -that is quite a new idea of duty to -me—but I am happy to be taught by so fair -an instructress." As he spoke, Lord Arlingford's -grave countenance (for it was a countenance -of gravity for so young a man) relaxed -into something like vivacity; and Lady Tilney, -profiting by the momentary gleam of expression, -requested him to assist her through -the crowd, in order that she might speak to -the Duchess of Hermanton.</p> - -<p>"You will come, will you not, Lady Ellersby?" -turning her head over her shoulder as -she spoke.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No (for at this moment the Duke of -Mercington was coming towards her), I have -already seen the Duchess." Lady Tilney -would then have lingered, glad to have exchanged -the arm on which she leant for that of -the man of still higher rank; but the Duke only -making her the acknowledgment of a familiar -nod, offered his arm to Lady Ellersby, and as -her friend walked away in a contrary direction, -Lady Tilney, mortified, bit her lip, and was -obliged to proceed.</p> - -<p>The crowd in the door-way soon stopped -her progress, and turning to her companion, -she observed,</p> - -<p>"I wonder how many private couriers Lady -Borrowdale keeps in pay, to bring over the -newest fashions from Paris. Have you seen -her to-night? did you ever behold any thing -like the magnificence of her gown?"—"I -think," replied Lord Arlingford, "that she is -a very fine-looking person, and in her youth -must have been perfectly beautiful; but I did -not observe her gown." The subject seemed -to inspire Lord Arlingford, who broke through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -the usual briefness of his sentences as he continued, -"And her manner, I think, is excellent; -there is so much dignity in it, united with -so much courtesy; and she is never, I am told, -capricious, or forgetful of good-breeding."</p> - -<p>"Why, my dear Lord Arlingford, this is -an oration—you are quite eloquent! But you -cannot really like that old-fashioned <i>manière</i> -of curtseying."</p> - -<p>"Indeed I am serious; I like it very much: -and if I were to point out the person whose -manners I should like to see any one I loved -adopt, in public at least—for I have not the -honour of her intimate acquaintance—it would -be Lady Borrowdale's."</p> - -<p>"How singular you are! Really, if you -entertain such opinions as these, we must -expel you from our circle. But if you are -determined to be extraordinary, I suppose -you will tell me that you cannot bear any -thing that is younger or more modern."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me; there is Lady Georgina Melcombe, -and the Ladies Fitzmaurice, and their -cousins, the Ladies Partington, and many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -others, who look as if they were every thing -which the young and lovely ought to be,—unaffected, -cheerful, and courteous."</p> - -<p>"Oh, this is worse and worse; you are becoming -quite insufferable. But do tell me -who is that person there, whose appearance is -so particular, and who has so extraordinary an -air—is he a foreigner?"</p> - -<p>"No—that is Lord Albert D'Esterre. Are -you not acquainted with him? He is a very -charming person,—full of talent, and very -handsome, as you see. But I forget—you -cannot well recollect him, for he went to the -Continent as a boy, and is only lately returned."</p> - -<p>"True; I remember—I hear he is likely -to distinguish himself—pray present him to -me."</p> - -<p>The presentation took place; and, after a -few words, including an invitation to Lord -Albert to her <i>soirées</i>, Lady Tilney passed on -with Lord Arlingford to where the Duchess of -Hermanton was standing.</p> - -<p>To have taken pains thus to seek one whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -she affected to despise, whose manners and right -to fashion she was perpetually calling in question, -might argue great inconsistency; but in -this instance Lady Tilney's wishes to be well -with the Duchess of Hermanton, far from -being the result of any thing like the contradiction -of a settled principle, were the absolute -fruits of it, and were influenced by a feeling of -fear—if she would have confessed it—by an -apprehension that that really amiable person, -possessing the envied superiority of united -rank and birth and talent, should assume her -proper place in society, and overthrow the -false rule to which Lady Tilney herself laid -claim. It was therefore conciliation rather; -and, as she addressed the Duchess, she put on -her sweetest smiles, and laid aside those indescribable -airs which were displayed when she -intended to scorn or crush; and, while uttering -those nothings which form the sum and -substance of what is said on such occasions, -her manners were almost servile. The simplicity -of unquestioned superiority is one of its -most sure characteristics; and the Duchess of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -Hermanton's mode of receiving this homage -was unaffected and courteous. But as the two -persons had little similarity in their natures, -the conference lasted only sufficiently long for -Lady Tilney to preserve that degree of familiarity -in acquaintance, which she determined -should prevent her being a stranger to one too -independent and distinguished to be altogether -passed over.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Lord Arlingford having profited -by the opportunity to quit Lady Tilney, now -joined Lady Georgina Melcombe and some of -the persons standing together in another part -of the room; and Lady Tilney, thus left alone, -had, for a few moments, leisure to behold the -splendour of the apartments and of the persons -met in them. In her heart she could not but -acknowledge that whatever London could boast -as being most distinguished was present, and -that the good and great predominated; but it -was <i>not exclusive</i>—that is, it was an assembly -constituted of almost all those whose rank entitled -them to be on the list of Lady Feuillemerte's -visitors.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was numerous, therefore, which is the very -essence of an assembly; for what is so insipid as -public receptions where the members are few, -the rooms half filled, and the scene unenlivened -by those circumstances which a diversity of -ages, characters, and dresses cast around?</p> - -<p>Here all met the society which best accorded -with their tastes. The politician, the courtier, -the man of fashion, found here their associates -and their amusement, each in their different -sphere, as they retired from the rest to discuss -some present topic of public interest, or glided -through the throng with that easy politeness -which breathed of the atmosphere they inhaled -in the presence of their Sovereign, paying the -well-timed compliment as they passed, or displaying -the refinement of wit and repartee in -their short and animated conversations.</p> - -<p>Here, too, amidst the younger and fresher -forms, beauties of former days still shone in -the dignity of their manners, and of that air -and carriage which the fashion of their time -had rendered a portion of themselves; which -lent a grace to their every movement, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -might well have afforded a school of manners -and propriety of outward bearing for the young -who mingled with them—in counteraction of -the oblivion and extermination of all manners, -which the prevailing system of the <i>soi-disant</i> -members of <i>ton</i> would have enforced.</p> - -<p>Such, at least, were the external features of -an old-fashioned assembly—in its moral character -the advantages were no less. Its honest -and avowed purpose was the interchange of -those courtesies which render life agreeable, -and the preservation of those general guards -in society which, as checks to profligacy, are -more useful than abstract theories of ethics, or -codes of moral laws. People, unless lost, sin -not so blindly in mixed communities—one individual -forms a restraint on the others—children -stand in awe of parents, and these, in their -turn, acknowledge a wholesome control in the -presence of their offspring—the good are a -terror to the evil (for an alloy will ever exist); -while the one and the other mutually afford -examples of imitation, or beacons of danger to -be avoided, which every individual may, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -there be the will, turn to profit, in the correction -of some temper, the curbing of some -excess, the chastening of some wish, or the -abandonment of some folly.</p> - -<p>The more intimate associations in life are -not here spoken of; but these in characters of -the same description as Lady Feuillemerte's, -would doubtless be founded on the same basis, -and have the same objects in view; for whether -in the cherishing of natural affections, the formation -of those friendships which spring up -in the domestic circle, the cultivation and exercise -of talents which give a charm to existence, -or the acquirement of more important -attainments, the system which holds out examples, -and affords restraint, will ever be -best.</p> - -<p>The "<i>société choisie</i>," however, which Lady -Tilney desired to form, was, in its nature, the -very reverse of what has been described. Its -exclusive character was to consist, not in the -selection of what was amiable in nobility, or virtuous -in talent; it was not to be the circle -drawn within a narrower circumference, for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -more perfect enjoyment of private friendship, -or the cultivation of more intellectual pursuits -than the wide range of fashionable life could -afford; it was not to be retirement from the -busier throng, for the purposes of a more -rational and purer existence; but it was to -consist of those whose follies in the pursuit of -pleasure, and whose weakness in the indulgence -of all the empty toys of life, had given -them a distinction above their fellows; of those -who judged immorality, when burnished by -the tinsel of superficial acquirements, as venial -error;—of those, in short, who were either -senseless or wicked enough to consider life but -a bubble, to be blown down the current, -according to the dictates of the will, and whose -daily existence testified, that they were alike -without a thought or a fear for the morrow's -eternity. Such were to be its members, and -its seclusion from the general eye of the -world, its secession from all others but—; its -rigid law, that unmarried women were not -eligible to its chosen meetings—for what purpose, -and to what end were these? If for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -vanity of distinction, merely, it was weak; if -for the purpose of indulging in pursuits and -conversation, which would receive a check in -a society less selected for the object—it was -wicked. In whichever point of view, a society -so constituted must be demoralizing, for -assuredly it would have the character of being, -if it even were not, really vicious—and its -example would have a contaminating effect in -the corruption of morals, and the overthrow -of the barriers of domestic peace.</p> - -<p>It cannot be said that these were the reflections -of Lady Tilney, as she stood for the few -moments alone in the crowd at Lady Feuillemerte's. -It would be injustice to her to suppose -that they were, or that she contemplated -in the formation of a coterie, according to her -own peculiar prejudices, any of the evils with -which the system was sure to be pregnant. It -is thus, however, with all reforms, entered -upon for private ends; the individual sees but -the accomplishment of his own and his immediate -associates' views, in what is to be overturned; -and the fatal result accruing to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -community, even if clearly distinguished, are -at the moment but as dust in the balance of -self.</p> - -<p>It is more probable that, as Lady Tilney -gazed on the mingled group around her, blind -to the demerits of her projected revolution of -society, and proud of influence, which over a -certain portion of the London world she had -succeeded in establishing, she became firmer -in her purpose; and as her eye fell on one -individual after another, whose manners, mode -of life, dress, or very name were disagreeable -to her, or proved them wanting in the stamp -of ideal fashion, the necessity of the measure -she contemplated she conceived became more -and more imperative. Whatever might have -been Lady Tilney's reflections, she was not -long suffered to indulge them. In the tide -which passed before her appeared Lord Rainham, -unattended however, as previously, by the -Comtesse Leinsengen: Lady Tilney therefore -awaited his address, without any appearance of -recurrence to her professed distaste for royalty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A marvel, I declare!" were the opening -words of a speech already polished, <i>usque ad -unguam</i>, before Lord Rainham ventured to -give it utterance.—"Behold Lady Tilney -without a crowd of worshippers at her feet!—Explain -me this phenomenon, and say, have -you been cruel to your slaves, and are they -gone themselves, or have they forgotten their -allegiance? Such things have been, though -they ought not to be—and yet methinks you -would find it sufficiently dull, if all things -were as they ought to be, would you not? -tell me the truth, and give me your confidence; -I have long wished to have the confidence of a -handsome woman, and I promise you <i>indulgentia -plenaria</i>."</p> - -<p>"No, not for the world!—I hold it to be -quite a false maxim to have any confidants: -besides I have nothing to confide."</p> - -<p>"You are too wise to be so handsome," -said Lord Rainham abruptly, "and so -good night; for since you will not parley -with me, 'tis in vain I linger;" and as he -turned away, words of fresh <i>impromptu</i> on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -some other subject began audibly to escape -his lips.</p> - -<p>"In your orisons be all my sins remembered," -whispered Mr. Ombre as he passed, -and again found himself at Lady Tilney's side. -"It is high time such bookworms as I should -retire into our cells; so, lady sweet, good -night.—You know it is not I who speak, -but he, who would have been blest, could he -have poured all his sweetest lays into that -gentle ear." Lady Tilney considered the -homage of talent as peculiarly her own, and -would gladly have retained the speaker; but -gliding with the gentle undulation of some -shadowy form towards the door, he escaped -the infliction of a penalty, which even the -syren smiles which were his reward could -hardly at times repay.</p> - -<p>It was now growing late—the assembly was -breaking up, and Lady Tilney looked anxiously -for some <i>cavalier</i> to attend her to her -carriage: but this was not a point of easy settlement. -In degree he must be either of rank, -or a dependent—one who was her equal, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -one on whom she might confer distinction by -her choice of his services. Neither such requisites, -however, were to be found in the -group around, and Lady Tilney, whilst feeling -yet more and more the necessity of an exclusive -circle, where such predicaments would be -avoided, was doomed still further mortification -in the approach of Colonel Temple, a person -whom she hardly ever considered recognizable, -and whose offer of assistance, made evidently -with sarcastic reference to her being alone, -came in a shape particularly offensive to her.</p> - -<p>"Will you allow me to have the honour of -calling your carriage," he said, addressing her -with easy familiarity; "or if you are going to -walk through the rooms, allow me to escort -you?" (offering his arm).</p> - -<p>"No," said Lady Tilney, in a manner that -might have awed any one else; "I am going -away immediately."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, let me call your carriage," he -replied, with a tenacity that nothing could -evade—whilst Lady Tilney continued to move -on, terrified lest she should be seen <i>so</i> attended.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>This apparent anxiety to avoid him, was, -however, with Colonel Temple, the surest incitement -to a continuance of his proffered attentions. -It might not have been exactly consistent -with the general, high breeding and -politeness which distinguished Lady Feuillemerte's -assemblies, for any one to have acted -under this influence perhaps; but Col. Temple -was a character known to all the world as such, -and privileged to do things which no one else -did. He was a man, too, of family, and felt -his situation in society, in the midst of all his -eccentricities. His want of refinement had its -compensation in an honesty of disposition quite -at variance with the measured forms of fashionable -exclusiveness, but which made him generally -beloved; while his shrewd sense, mixed -with a certain vein of sarcastic humour, always -penetrated the littleness of vanity, and -often inflicted on it its severest wounds.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, from repeated slights, was a -darling object of his attacks, and could she -without compromise have purchased immunity -from their never-failing and successful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -arrogance, by an honourable truce, she -would gladly have done so. But Col. Temple -was <i>too</i> arrogant, <i>too</i> presumptuous, to be -checked by any defiance of ultra fashion—too -independent, too high-spirited, to suffer a cold -and haughty recognition, in place of the politeness -and courtesy due to him as a gentleman, -and thus this warfare had become interminable.</p> - -<p>Enjoying his triumphs in the way in question, -he followed Lady Tilney from room to -room—even to the steps of her carriage, assuring -her as they proceeded, that her apprehensions -of being detected in his society were -compliments to him beyond price; he was -aware that, to be of importance, the next thing -to being liked, was being feared—and bidding -her be sure to send him a card for her next -choice <i>soirée</i>, he handed his victim into her -carriage, under a thousand half-pronounced -inuendos upon his insufferable vulgarity, and -the awful anathema of future exclusion.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER IV.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">A MODERN COTERIE.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">If</span> any circumstance had been wanting to -give strength to Lady Tilney's resolves on the -momentous question of social reform, the occurrences -at Lady Feuillemerte's were in themselves -sufficient—at least, they formed an addition -to that kind of plausible excuse, sought -for on all occasions where the will is previously -set on a particular line of conduct, but which, -without a pretext, it would hardly be safe for -the individual to adopt.</p> - -<p>The motley and unkindred assemblage of -the previous evening, with its royal restraints, -its want of organization in its inferior members, -and the consequent offences experienced -by those of higher order—for Lady Tilney, although -she did not divulge the stain inflicted by -Colonel Temple's assiduities, yet felt it -deeply,—were points she dwelt upon to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -colleagues in the following morning with that -extreme pathos and eloquence which the sufferings -of self never fail to produce, and -which could not but enforce on her auditors -conviction of the necessity of the measures -she proposed.</p> - -<p>Closeted, therefore, with the leading characters -in her own peculiar circle, the final -arrangements for that <i>société choisie</i> which was -to eclipse courts and banish sovereigns, to -school rank, and bring to maturity all the yet -unripened follies of a <i>soi-disant ton</i>, were at -length concluded. The lists were full—the -doors were closed to all but the secret representatives -of the system, and the anathema -went forth. Strange that St. James's did not -shake from its foundation, England's sovereign -resign his sceptre, and her lengthened line of -nobility crouch in the dust, under the awful -denunciation of such an ascendancy. But -though this were not so—yet must the loyalty -of many a high-born subject, and the purity -of many a noble and virtuous mind, have been -outraged, when the results of a system at once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -so contemptuous and immoral began to be developed.</p> - -<p>It will be remembered that Lady Tilney -had already fixed on the evening of Lady -Borrowdale's assembly as a fitting occasion -for the display of her own undivided rule in -the empire of fashion. Her cards had been -issued for that purpose, and these were now -followed by injunctions through various channels, -requiring an early attendance—since the -two syrens of the day, Pasta and Sontag, it -was whispered, were engaged to give additional -effect to the opening charms of exclusiveness, -and render the blow struck at the existing -state of society at once decisive.</p> - -<p>Lady Borrowdale's apartments, it was decreed, -should possess only the <i>canaille</i> of the -fashionable world, and royalty be doomed to -oblivion there, in the surpassing lustre which -Lady Tilney's circle would display. To the -authority that called for this ready obedience, -none of the satellites of Lady Tilney's court -were ever known to offer resistance;—and -though the chiefs of her party alone knew the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -real object of the summons, yet the uninitiated -hastened to obey it with the same alacrity as -their superiors, satisfied that in so doing they -were best consulting their views of advancement -to the distinction courted by them, as -well as securing a greater license in the indulgence -of those follies and errors which made -the sum of their daily occupation.</p> - -<p>To tell of the decoration of the apartments, -of the splendour and luxury which reigned -around the mansion of Lady Tilney, to dwell -on externals, would be to repeat descriptions -a thousand times given, and tend to no -developement of import. A plant, under the -fairest guise of colour or of form, sometimes -contains within its fibres the deadliest poison; -and in the scorching plains of the East, the -upas-tree extends an alluring shade over the -exhausted and unconscious traveller, who is -soon to sink beneath its deadly atmosphere. -But what would it profit were the naturalist -to dwell only on the pencilling and texture of -the one, or the traveller describe vaguely the -outspreading branches and inviting coolness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -the other, and yet neglect to record the noxious -qualities and inherent dangers of each. -The plant and its virtues, not the scene in -which it is to be found, must first be recognised -and known, if escape from its contagion -be intended;—and it is to the habits -and system of a people, not to the country -they inhabit, that we must look, rightly to -understand the manner in which their lives -are passed.</p> - -<p>To a casual observer, Lady Tilney's assembly -presented no distinguishing external marks -at variance with received habits or customs. -The rooms were not darkened, the servants -passed through the apartments at intervals in -the performance of their respective duties -without constraint: the company, however, was -less numerous, and more scattered and divided -into detached parties. The conversation, with -the exception of Lady Tilney herself, was -carried on in a low tone, scarcely audible but -to the individual addressed; the different -members of the coterie, when they moved about,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -seemed to do so under certain measured and -stated paces.</p> - -<p>It was not, however, the step and air of real -dignity of fashion, but rather the mincing -<i>minauderie</i> of <i>des petites maîtresses</i>. Whatever -was done or spoken (when for a moment some -general observation was hazarded), appeared as -if performed by rule, and under apprehension -of drawing down ridicule, which at once went -to destroy all natural grace of speech or demeanour. -This sentiment attached more particularly -to the younger and newer noviciates, -who felt that an unguarded expression, or a -movement at variance with the prescribed forms -of the circle, would render them the objects of -the malicious remarks and sneers of the more -experienced—an uneasy restraint, therefore, -was often the consequence; and had it not -been, that to form part of so chosen a society, -and under Lady Tilney's roof, was in itself an -indescribable satisfaction—some who were there -might have been suspected of suffering considerable -<i>ennui</i>, and of being ready to admit, -by the suppressed and ill-concealed yawn, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -although the honour of exclusiveness was great, -the pleasure was certainly small.</p> - -<p>Not so, however, with the more initiated—these -appeared by habit to take the part at -once most to their tastes; to select the -companion most agreeable to them; to remain -under the eye of observation, or retire from it, -as they chose, with indifference;—for it was not -only in <i>what</i> was done or said, but in the -<i>manner</i>, also, that the distinguishing -characteristics of this coterie were to be detected. -All things were lawful—but then under outward -forms (not however of propriety always, or of -morality), but of convention; and whoever -attained fulfilment of these, had the privilege, -the <i>indulgentia plenaria</i>, as proposed by Lord -Rainham, to sin with impunity.</p> - -<p>When it was said, therefore, that an assembly -composed as the present differed not in its -appearance from others passing under the -same generic name, it was premised to be only -under the impression of a first view;—a more -intimate acquaintance with many of its laws -and practices, so opposed to received customs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -in the world, could not in the end fail to -astonish! And first the observer (the moral -observer is meant) would have been struck by -the discovery, that the young and beautiful in -this magic circle were all married women, and -that the person who individually (for the -number was rarely more than singular) paid -his assiduous court, leant over the chair, and -whispered into the ear of the fair whom he -selected or was selected by, was no aspirant to -her hand in marriage, no relative—neither was -he her husband—but a member of the privileged -society, which was alone sufficient.</p> - -<p>His astonishment would have been yet -stronger on discovering that for a season, till -mutual convenience, or disagreement dissolved -their familiar acquaintance, each party, similarly -paired, invariably met, conversed, and retired -at the same time, when the circle broke up, -or when they quitted it, apparently on the -same footing of intimacy which the most holy -ties could have sanctioned; while those whom -such a tie actually bound to them were themselves -pursuing a similar career.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Had the conversation which for the most -part occupied this portion of the <i>société -choisie</i> been reported, or reached the ear, it -is possible a considerate mind might have thought, -notwithstanding the singularity of a system which -excluded the unmarried from scenes of amusement, -that it was well they formed no portion -of it; but still, in an escape from its early -influence, enjoyed the opportunity of attaining -to a degree of moral principle, and feminine -decorum, which must otherwise have been -swept away in the general license.</p> - -<p>This, however, can unfortunately be said -only of the one sex—the unmarried in the -other, provided their attainments were of the -kind to authorize admission, were not on the -excluded list; and the young, well-principled, -and ingenuous perhaps at their outset, might, -in the examples constantly before them, have -found incentive to conduct, which at a future -day they would discover to have been the -great bane and poison of their existence.—Of -these the person who entered Lady Tilney's -apartments when the coterie had nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -assembled, and who was new to most of them, -offered an instance, for whom the liveliest fears -with justice might have been entertained.</p> - -<p>Young, strikingly handsome, talented, of -high rank, of widely extended interest, and -possessing all the means of gratifying every -wish, to what dangers was not Lord Albert -D'Esterre exposed, in such a scene as has been -described, and on which he was from that -evening to play a part! He seemed, with the -impulse of natural politeness, to look around -for Lady Tilney, as he entered, as if he would -pay his first homage to her, whose self and not -her house he visited; in a manner directly the -reverse of that false refinement of modern <i>ton</i>, -which seeks a display of its <i>savoir vivre</i>, in a -pointed indifference to all the received forms -of society.</p> - -<p>Before he had reached the second room he -was met by Lady Tilney, with a greater -degree of courtesy and <i>empressement</i> than was -usual in her receptions; and his address -was listened to with more complacency and -patience than generally marked her manner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -towards any one.—"Who is he?" passed in -whispers round the circle amongst those to -whom he was unknown.—"Did you hear his -name announced?"—"No! I have seen him -somewhere before, I think—is it not Lord -Albert D'Esterre, Lord ——'s son?"</p> - -<p>"Ah true, it is! but what an extraordinary -lengthy speech he is making—surely Lady -Tilney must be ready to expire under its -duration."—"Not under its dulness, I am certain," -said Lord Glenmore, as he caught Lady -Baskerville's remark to Lord Rainham, "for, -D'Esterre is too clever ever to say a dull thing." -"Or ever do a wise one, perhaps," added Lord -Rainham in his most caustic manner.</p> - -<p>"Did you hear Rainham?" whispered -Spencer Newcombe to Ombre; "there was -no time for gestation there—it was really -well said."—"Then, if so," replied his neighbour, -"we may 'for once a miracle accept instead -of wit.'"</p> - -<p>"No; I do not allow of miracles now a -days," said Lord Rainham, turning sharply -round, having overheard the remark applied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -to him: "I do not believe in miracles—not -even in the resurrection of the Glacier man—do -you, Ombre?" The laugh was with the -latter speaker; but Mr. Ombre thought that, -in fact, miracles had not ceased when Lord -Rainham could thus improvise two good -things without incubation; and so he whispered -into the ear of his friend Spencer Newcombe, -as Lord Rainham moved away.</p> - -<p>While Lord Albert D'Esterre was thus affording -subject of remark to the coterie, and their -observations in turn made matter of ill-natured -review among themselves, he was addressing his -courteous excuse to Lady Tilney for having -disobeyed her commands, in arriving so late. -Lady Baskerville was probably right in her -conjecture, that Lady Tilney felt considerably -bored by his doing so, and making reference -to injunctions which she had forgotten the -moment they were given, because certain they -would be generally obeyed, and Lady Borrowdale's -assembly be left untenanted by all -her early visitors.</p> - -<p>She heard him, however, with smiles and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -outward complaisance; for Lord Albert was -of consequence enough in a political way, at -least, for Lady Tilney to court; and as she assured -him that he was still in good time, and -that the Sontag had not yet sung, presented -him to several persons, whom, she remarked, -would be almost strangers to him after so long -an absence from England.</p> - -<p>In all, however, that Lord Albert had said, -he had been sincere; and in his manner towards -the different persons he was made known -to, there was a genuine distinguished air of -high breeding and politeness, as much at variance -with the manners, as his ingenuousness -was with the minds and dispositions of those -who figured in the moral masquerade before -him. Although fresh in this scene, and therefore -without contamination, he was powerful, -and, therefore, worth appropriation; and what -was considered <i>outré</i> and too <i>manière</i> in his -address, was partially overlooked at the moment, -as certain to give way under the powerful -influence of better examples.</p> - -<p>The Sontag now came forward and poured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -her liquid notes mellifluous through the assembly. -Every body was in raptures—indiscriminate -raptures;—for though raptures were -generally obsolete, there were a few short -seasons for a few new things in which it was -permitted to be rapturous; but woe to the unhappy -individual who, ignorant of the mark, -gave way to these ebullitions at unallowed -times, or beyond the peculiar limits prescribed -by <i>ton</i>.</p> - -<p>When the <i>aria</i> was concluded, however, -the remarks among the younger votaries of -fashion were principally directed to the figure -and appearance of the singer, rather than to -her performance. Leslie Winyard admired her -foot; Lady Boileau her eyes; Lord Gascoyne -saw indescribable beauty in the delicacy of her -waist; and Lord Tonnerre declared her neck to -be as fine drawn and as perfect as that of a -race-horse—a simile which was perhaps the -only figure of speech the latter lord could -have hazarded, consistently with his knowledge -of any subject. These by turns approached the -singer, and as they addressed her with an air of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -familiar condescension, seemed in their ungentle -gaze to seek an opportunity of confirming -their previous judgments; which, according -to the result, were signified in the presence -of the persons by a look, or a whisper, to one -another.</p> - -<p>If a few ventured an observation on what -they had been listening to, it was in a tone -either of indiscriminate praise, founded on -some one's opinion in their own circle from -whose decree there was no appeal; or else, -measuring things in themselves admitting not -of parallel, by one another, they drew an unfair -comparison between the powers of Sontag -and of Pasta; just in the same way as a pseudo -connoisseur would measure the merits of Paul -Veronese or Tintoretto by those of Raphael.</p> - -<p>"I am surprised you waste so much time in -this discussion," said Mr. Ombre, who was -standing near the parties debating on the latter -point; "there can be no question as to the -merits of the case—Sontag is new."</p> - -<p>"Is she not enchanting?" asked Lady Tilney, -addressing Lord Albert D'Esterre, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -had been listening with the utmost attention—"quite -perfection!" He smiled; "I do not -know that I ever heard or saw any thing <i>quite -perfect</i>; at all events, I prefer Pasta."</p> - -<p>"Well, you surprise me!" replied Lady -Baskerville; "there is such brilliancy—such -lightness, such fluency in the Sontag."</p> - -<p>"But there is more depth, more pathos, more -poetry in Pasta. Nevertheless I admire -Mademoiselle Sontag; and because I prefer one, -I am not deaf to the powers of another singer—a -feeling of the sublime does not exclude the -lesser sense of the beautiful."—"What a prosing, -sententious popinjay; ay!" whispered -Lord Baskerville to Lady Ellersby.</p> - -<p>"But he is very handsome," she answered.</p> - -<p>"I know not what you ladies may esteem -handsome" (and here Lord Baskerville put -himself in his best possible form, and bent his -cane against the ground); "but I can see nothing -in that stiff conceited face and figure to -call handsome; and I would not be doomed to -listen to his affected pretensions for half an -hour together on any condition whatever—no,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -not to hear Sontag sing three songs consecutively—beautiful, -charming, dear as she is!"</p> - -<p>"Does beauty enter in at the ears?" asked -Spencer Newcombe.</p> - -<p>"Not exactly; but it goes a great way -towards making what does enter there agreeable," -replied Lord Baskerville.</p> - -<p>"What do you say, Sir Henry D'Aubigne," -addressing that celebrated artist: "is not the -Sontag exceedingly lovely?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I have not yet had an opportunity -of judging," was Sir Henry's discreet reply; -for he gave offence to none. "There is considerable -grace and play of countenance certainly; -a fine-cut eye; and on the whole I -should say she was a very pretty creature. But -really, in this land of beauty, (looking round -him as he spoke), one may be allowed to be -difficult, and where there is so much to dazzle, -confess oneself unable to decide."</p> - -<p>"Sir Henry is almost as graceful in his -speech as in his portraits; I wish I were such a -poet!" sighed Mr. Ombre, "and then I might -hope to turn all the ladies' hearts, for they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -accept your homage, but will not mine, although -I never flatter."</p> - -<p>Thus did the poet and the painter mutually -pay their allotted fealties to the sovereigns of -<i>ton</i>, when the whisper ran round the room that -the Sontag was again about to sing.</p> - -<p>During the performance, Lord Albert -D'Esterre was standing at the back of Lady -Hamlet Vernon's chair, addressing to her, at -intervals, his conversation on the merits of the -singer.</p> - -<p>"I am told," said Lady Hamlet Vernon, -when the music ceased, "that the Sontag is -very like Lady Adeline Seymour. You will -know, Lord Albert D'Esterre?" Lord Albert -coloured.</p> - -<p>"I do not see the least resemblance to my -cousin;" and then he added: "I was not -aware that Lady Adeline had the advantage of -your acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"I have not the pleasure of her's neither—I -hear she is a most delightful person!" Lord -Albert again coloured, and felt his heart beat -quicker at the mention of a name so dear to him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Is Lady Dunmelraise expected in town -this year?" continued Lady Hamlet Vernon; -"I understand she has very bad health. A -very intimate friend of mine, from whom I -sometimes receive a letter, Mr. George Foley—you -may perhaps know him—and who is at -present staying at Dunmelraise, informs me -that she is far from well."</p> - -<p>Lord Albert D'Esterre found himself irresistibly -drawn towards Lady Hamlet Vernon, -by the circumstance of her knowledge of Lady -Adeline Seymour, and they continued for a -long while in conversation—till interrupted by -Lord Rainham, who, quitting the circle of the -political characters of the day, with whom he -had been in apparently close discussion, addressed -Lady Hamlet Vernon on some other -topic, and Lord Albert turned aside.</p> - -<p>"Tell me what is your real opinion of the -person you have been conversing with?" said -Lord Rainham, in a low voice, while his small -quick eye followed Lord Albert; "is he clever? -has he talent—tact, or any other serviceable -quality?"—"I hardly know how to answer inquiries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -of such depth," answered Lady Hamlet -Vernon, smiling; "had you asked me if he -were agreeable, I could have answered yes. -But to what do your questions tend—are they -general or particular; or are they political, or -what?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I mean, is he like other people, like -other young men—empty—and conceited?—or -has he wherewithal to make his conversation -endurable—worth listening to—point—repartee—subject—does -he talk of people or of things?"</p> - -<p>"Of both. But shall I add another to your -list of inquiries—To what side of the question -does he lean? Does not this sum up all you -would know from me? And what if I should -tell you—I know nothing about the matter?"</p> - -<p>"Psha! well: that may be too—what <i>do</i> -you think—?"</p> - -<p>"Why I think him very handsome."</p> - -<p>"Aye, may be so; I dare say he is—but—"</p> - -<p>"But has he avowed his political creed? -will he support your favourite measures, or -oppose them? I know that is all you wish me -to say," replied Lady Hamlet Vernon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, to be sure, one judges in these days -of a man's sense a little by his politics—one -learns whether he thinks at all, or follows his -interests."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you all do that, my dear lord. But -come; I will tell you what I think of Lord -Albert D'Esterre: I think he is worth winning—and—"</p> - -<p>"You will try," said Lord Rainham.</p> - -<p>"Fi donc!—now I will tell you no more." -And Lady Hamlet Vernon left the foiled diplomatist -to lament the failure of his mission, and -learn to play his part better for the future.</p> - -<p>The evening, or rather the night, was wearing -fast away; the Sontag had sung three -times, and those who had formed part of Lady -Tilney's first <i>soirée choisie</i> were soon to be left -in possession only of the recollections—no—not -the recollections—the life of the aggregate -assembled there would banish such an exercise -of mental powers—but in possession of the fact, -that they had been of the chosen number; that -they <i>had</i> heard the favourite of the hour, <i>not</i> -in the too-frequented Opera, but in the privacy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -of the drawing-room; and that they alone could -justly, therefore, weigh her merits, and determine -her defects.</p> - -<p>In follies such as these a large portion of Lady -Tilney's associates were sure to find gratification -on the morrow. And it might have been -well had all contented themselves with these, so -comparatively harmless, although such worthless, -fruits of <i>exclusive ton</i>; but it may be feared -that, with some, the result of that evening, -and the prospect of others to succeed it of the -same kind, held out objects of a far different -complexion, which a sure immunity from censure, -and a complete freedom from obnoxious -comparisons, successfully tended to promote.</p> - -<p>Lord Albert D'Esterre had turned away -from a group of young men with whom he had -been conversing, and whose discourse, assuming -a tone and character equally indelicate and -revolting to his feelings, he thus endeavoured -to avoid, when he found himself near Lady -Boileau.</p> - -<p>"Lord Albert D'Esterre," she said, addressing -him, "if you will excuse an invitation so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -destitute of form, will you do Lord Boileau -and myself the pleasure of dining with us on -Saturday—I will send you a card." Lord -Albert bowed with courtesy, and expressed -himself sorry that he was already engaged, -and, after some conversation of little interest, -as Lady Boileau's carriage was announced, -she left the room. Leslie Winyard, with the -familiarity of one well acquainted, whispered -in Lord Albert's ear—</p> - -<p>"You have <i>échappéd belle</i> from that."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked the latter.</p> - -<p>"Why, I mean that you have escaped a most -uncomfortable concern by just refusing the -invitation to the Boileaus."</p> - -<p>"I thought I heard you say to Lady -Boileau but now that you would be delighted -to wait upon her."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, certainly, one <i>says</i> those sort of -things; and if nothing better occurs, one <i>does</i> -them;—but it does not always follow: for -instance, if any one were to ask me whom I -liked better, or if you, or some equally pleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -person, were to propose our dining together at -Crockford's—"</p> - -<p>"I am not a member of Crockford's," said -Lord Albert D'Esterre, gravely.</p> - -<p>"Oh! but your name is down, and <i>you</i> are -certain of being admitted on the next ballot, -and—" Lord Albert attempted to reply, but -Leslie Winyard continued, "and, as I was -telling you, if a pleasant dinner was prepared -at Crockey's, I should, of course, not starve -myself at the Boileaus."</p> - -<p>"I confess myself at a loss to comprehend -what you mean."</p> - -<p>"Well then, some day go and try; find -yourself frozen in rooms where the fire is lit -only five minutes before the hour of your -expected arrival—starve at the hands of the -very worst cook in England,—and then, when -you hear that my Lady spends twelve guineas -on a new bonnet, squanders thousands on her -journies to Paris, and ruins Boileau in articles -for her toilette, <i>marvel</i>—but the thing is so."</p> - -<p>"Is it possible?" Lord Albert continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -saying to himself; as the person who had been -talking to him turned away, half in derision of -his unsophisticated expressions and manner of -receiving what he said,—"is it possible that so -much refinement of duplicity can exist, for an -end so trivial—where the gratification of the -spirit of falsehood, or the indulgence of an -ill-bred impertinence, is the only object?"</p> - -<p>Whilst thus musing, and preparing to leave -a scene which, as he became more acquainted -with the actors, appeared little suited to his -tastes or modes of thinking, he saw Lady -Hamlet Vernon approach the door unattended. -A recollection that she alone, in the manner -she spoke of Lady Adeline Seymour, had -seemed to have any sentiment in common with -himself, made him move towards her, and -inquire if he could be of any service in seeing -her to her carriage.</p> - -<p>"I do not know if it is up," was her reply, -"but perhaps you will have the goodness to -ask." He did so, and in the interval, before it -was announced, they continued conversing. -"<i>Je vous félicite</i>," said Lord Rainham,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -addressing Lady Hamlet Vernon in a low tone -as he passed, and looking significantly at the -same time at Lord Albert D'Esterre.</p> - -<p>"There is no cause," she replied, "I am -waiting for my carriage, and I think it will never -come."</p> - -<p>"<i>Discrète</i>," answered Lord Rainham, as -he moved towards the door, and signalled what -he had observed to Leslie Winyard, whose -answering nod expressed concurrence in his -suspicions.</p> - -<p>It was long before Lady Hamlet Vernon's -carriage arrived, and she continued talking -with Lord Albert on various topics; the -societies of Paris and Vienna, compared with -that of London; the state of the Opera, and -the prevalent bad taste of music on the Continent. -She inquired for many who in their -exile in this country had been known to her, -and with whom, in the splendour of restored -rank and fortunes, she found Lord Albert -had lived on terms of close intimacy. In -speaking of them he seemed to dwell with -pleasure on their recollection of the services<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -rendered them in England, as a bright trait in -the human character, which betokened feelings -that it was plain to see were in accordance -with his own generous and noble nature—and -which had formed the basis of that familiar -intercourse in which he had lived with them. -Although the reverse of this picture has been -ascribed to too many foreigners, who have -with justice been accused of ingratitude, it -ought not therefore to be recorded that all -were subject to such condemnation. Lord -Albert knew otherwise.</p> - -<p>As he extolled their characters and perfections, -and spoke of the charms which their -society had always possessed for him, Lady -Hamlet Vernon listened with increased attention, -as if she would have gathered from his -discourse the individual sources of that satisfaction, -which he professed in so lively a manner -to have found. "You are warm and enthusiastic -in your eulogiums," she said: "I hope -that in England, also, you may find those -whom, with the same reasons, and an equal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -ardour of attachment, you will be disposed to -admit to your friendship."</p> - -<p>There was something in the tone in which -these words were addressed to him, that made -Lord Albert D'Esterre for a moment fix his -eyes on the speaker; but they were as quickly -withdrawn, when he saw Lady Hamlet Vernon -blush, apparently confused, and then pluck a -flower from a vase near her, while she endeavoured -to hide her face by inhaling the perfume. -There was an awkwardness in the -pause which ensued, which neither seemed at -the moment able to surmount; when fortunately -Lady Hamlet Vernon's carriage was -called, and as Lord Albert handed her to it, -he received an invitation to her house in the -evening, when Lady Tilney's <i>coterie</i> were to -assemble there.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER V.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">"NEWSPAPERS"—"THE PARK."</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> newspapers of the following morning -had devoted columns to the description of -Lady Borrowdale's entertainment, and the -numbering of the distinguished persons assembled -there; the dresses, the apartments, the -decorations, the viands, and every minute -arrangement, were all detailed with an accuracy -which an eye-witness of the scene would -readily have acknowledged, and which none -but an eye-witness could possibly have succeeded -in giving.</p> - -<p>In a far less conspicuous and pretending manner, -did the announcement figure in the same -paper, that "Lady Tilney yesterday evening -received a select circle of her friends at her house -in —— Street, where the Sontag gave several -specimens of her unrivalled talents." An uninstructed -reader would have been misled by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -these harbingers of public events; and from -the tone of the respective <i>affichés</i> feel justified -in the conclusion, that the one must have been -the production of Lady Borrowdale's own -pen, or at least from her dictation, while the -other appeared naturally as the result of that -publicity, to which the actions of the great -are always subjected. But this would have -been far from the fact, or rather the very -opposite to it; it was to the milliners, the confectioners, -the musicians, the <i>maître d'hotel</i>, and -the other individuals interested in affording -publicity to the dresses and entertainments of -their employers, that the long and circumstantial -details of Lady Borrowdale's, or any other -great assembly, are to be attributed; free from -any petty interference, or the gratification of a -silly vanity on the part of the principals themselves.</p> - -<p>That this was the fact, was a circumstance -which could not escape Lady Tilney; and -aware that such evidence, if it reached the -public eye, would destroy at once all the -sacredness of her select <i>coteries</i>, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -charms of the <i>société choisie</i> which she was -labouring to form, she determined on suppressing -it, and issued orders, not to be disobeyed -with impunity, for the effectual prevention of -any announcement of whom the circle consisted -of on the evening in question, and of its -proceedings, with the exception that it excelled -all other of the same date, by the possession -of Sontag's inimitable powers. A mystery, -which suited well with the ideas of Lady -Tilney and of her friends on the subject of -exclusive <i>ton</i>, would thus, she conceived, be -thrown over their actions, and the rites of the -supreme deity of fashion impenetrably veiled -from the prying, inquisitive eye, and vulgar -imitation of its pretending votaries.</p> - -<p>Humility is a duty of as especial injunction -in the sacred volume, as its opposite is of strict -prohibition; and let it not surprise, therefore, -that Lord Albert D'Esterre, young in the -world's masquerade, and imbued with feelings, -which if not religiously grounded, were at least, -from their purity, analogous to the moral doctrine -which religion teaches, should be struck,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -as he perused the two paragraphs, by the apparent -vanity of the one compared with the -unostentatious wording of the other, and drew -his inferences accordingly.</p> - -<p>"What silly pomp in Lady Borrowdale; -how unworthy her rank—how positively little, -thus to set forth the splendour of her entertainment, -which is worth nothing when it loses -the character of being a natural consequence -of her station in society. What could be more -brilliant than Lady Tilney's assembly; and yet -there is no parade—no <i>catalogue raisonnée</i> of -all that was seen, done, or said in her drawing-rooms—how -much more like a woman of real -fashion."</p> - -<p>Had Lord Albert D'Esterre been acquainted -with the actual truth, in all probability the -opinion which he passed on this trivial circumstance, -as he took his breakfast, would have -been the very reverse of what it was; and, -however he might hold cheap any silly ostentatious -display of wealth or rank, he would -certainly have been more ready to overlook -Lady Borrowdale's carelessness whether her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -assembly was reported accurately, or not at all, -than he would have been to forgive Lady -Tilney's over-anxiety and ultra, <i>ton</i>ism (if -such a word may be coined), to screen the -names and numbers of her guests, and give -celebrity to the coterie by making it a matter -of secrecy and of injunction to her domestics.</p> - -<p>The mornings of Lord Albert, however, -were generally passed in reflections of much -more use and importance than such as newspaper -subjects could furnish. During the -whole of his residence abroad, his time had -been employed in acquirements of a solid kind. -He had studied men and things—had made -himself acquainted with the constitutions, governments, -resources, and political importance -of all the great European states; had lived -amongst their inhabitants for the purpose of -acquiring that accurate knowledge of their -habits and dispositions, which tends so much -to a just appreciation of the line of policy to -be observed towards them, and which must -ever be influenced by an acquaintance with -national character.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>While receiving their instructions he had -formed friendships with some of their most distinguished -literati in all the different branches -of knowledge, and had returned to England -fully prepared for the commencement of that -public career to which his inclination led him; -and in which, amongst those who knew him -intimately, and could appreciate his abilities, -he was justly expected to shine.</p> - -<p>The habit of occupation which he had formed -whilst thus pursuing his studies on the Continent, -did not desert Lord Albert D'Esterre, -even in the noise and bustle of London society, -in the midst of which he now found himself; -but in the mass of business which now fell -upon him in consequence of his taking possession -of his large estates, in the conferences of -lawyers and agents, in the answering of letters -on these matters of varied interest which now -occupied him, and in the attentions to those -minor cases of life, the etiquettes and forms of -the world, he still found leisure for serious and -studious application; nor indulged in the idleness -of fashion till the duties of the morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -had been performed, when alone he availed -himself of them, for the purpose of relaxation -and the unbending of his mind.</p> - -<p>It was the morning after Lady Tilney's -soirée, and when he had gone through his -usual course of occupations, that Lord Albert -recollected, with what would be called old-fashioned -politeness, "the propriety of leaving -his cards with the persons to whom he had been -presented the preceding evening, and more -particularly with Lady Tilney herself; and he -determined to do so on his way to the Park. -On arriving at Lady Tilney's door he was informed -that she was at home (for his name -was already on the list of those who had the -entrée), and he was preparing to dismount -when he saw the carriage of the Countess Leinsengen -drive up. She bowed to him, and he -was presently at the <i>portière</i> to hand her out; -and offering her his arm, conducted her to -Lady Tilney's boudoir. "Comment ça va-t-il -chère Comtesse," said the former addressing -her; "I congratulate you on possessing de -acquaintance of de only polite Englishman I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -have ever known—Dare is milor Albert D'Esterre -had vraiement de galanterie to get off -his horse and conduct me from my carriage. -N'est-ce pas merveilleux in dis country!"</p> - -<p>Lord Albert bowed to the compliment; but -added: "I am sure Lady Tilney will not allow -such a cruel sentence on our nation to pass -even your lips, Comtesse; and will agree with -me, that though a few may have taken up a -false system, and assumed an air of disregard -to the courtesies of life, yet it is only such as -seek for distinction by false means, and by -doing the reverse of what others do: we cannot, -therefore, allow the censure to be general -on us all; indeed, I do my sex but justice I -hope, when I say, that they are in this country -invariably the friends and supporters of women, -and—" "Oh yes; perhaps if one tumble -down, or break one's leg, or meet vid any -personal danger or affront, dis may be so; but -dese affairs do not arise every day: and for de -little cares of de men, <i>les petits soins</i>, I never -knew one of your country men who knew vat -dey meant."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lord Albert smiled at the manner in which -the argument in favour of his politeness was -maintained; but perceiving Lady Tilney little -inclined to keep up a conversation on the -subject of national manners, he refrained from -drawing the comparison, which would have -been just, between a natural politeness, arising -as much from feeling and imbued delicacy of -sentiment, as from habit, and the mere outward -forms of courtesy and etiquette, which in -those most profuse of them have seldom any -thing of sincerity.</p> - -<p>"Well, I suppose ve must go to dat tiresome -Almack dis evening. You go?" said the -Comtesse Leinsengen, addressing Lady Tilney; -"for my part I tink I shall viddraw my -name."</p> - -<p>"Oh, certainly I shall go," replied the -latter, "for it is absolutely necessary you -know, my dear Comtesse, that some of us -should be there; and besides I am of opinion -that as people must have something to keep -them quiet, and which <i>they think recherché</i>, -Almack's is as good as any thing else, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -therefore I shall support it—In regard to <i>us</i>, -I agree perfectly with you, it is <i>passée</i>, and -no longer what was intended." The Comtesse -shrugged her shoulders: "You will be -at Almack's to-night," said Lady Tilney, -turning to Lord Albert D'Esterre, "although -we are giving it such a bad name, will you not?"</p> - -<p>"Your hours of admission are limited you -know, and I scarcely think I can get away -in time from ——"</p> - -<p>"There is no debate of consequence, is -there?" rejoined Lady Tilney with earnestness—"I -may forget, but should there be, of -course——"</p> - -<p>"I did not mean from the house," continued -Lord Albert, "but I am going to dine where -I shall meet Baron H.; I have known him on -the continent, and his conversation is so very -interesting."—"And so very long," added the -Comtesse Leinsengen, interrupting him, and -with a look which was intended to repay many -discussions she had been constrained to endure -at Lady Tilney's hands; "I wonder he ever -finds people to listen to him."—"But where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -do you dine," said Lady Tilney, seeming to -disregard the opinion just uttered. "I know -Barnette, and he is very agreeable, very -clever, but I wonder he allows himself to be -so <i>fétéd</i> by people so little known in the world. -I shall be happy, I am sure—"</p> - -<p>"I am to meet him at the Miss D.'s," replied -Lord Albert, interrupting her, and who -felt that <i>this</i> was the point he was called upon -to answer, and not that of who were or who -were not known in Lady Tilney's estimation.</p> - -<p>"And do you really visit them?" said the -latter with great surprise, "are you not -<i>ennuyé</i> to death at their parties?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Ennuyé!</i> no—but then I must premise that -I never am so under any circumstances."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>bon!</i> do tell me how that is, Milor," -said the Comtesse Leinsengen, "precisely, do -tell me how you avoid infection from dat prevalent -disease of your island, dat <i>bore</i> you call it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I always do what I like," replied -Lord Albert with a smile.</p> - -<p>"Cela ne fait rien à l'affaire, one do not -always know vat von like."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I have nothing to reply to that; but for -myself, if I do not find exactly what I like -I always endeavour to extract entertainment -from the persons or place, where, or with -whom I may chance to be."</p> - -<p>"Par exemple, at the Miss D.'s, what can -you find at their horrible conversaziones to -keep you awake," asked Lady Tilney, "c'est -un ennui à périr, it makes me yawn to think -of it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he goes to do penance for his sins, -and purchase indulgence for dose to come, -n'est ce pas, Milor?"</p> - -<p>"Neither, I assure you; I was really more -entertained during a <i>soirée</i> there last week than -I have been since my return to England."</p> - -<p>"Ah, le beau compliment! de grâce do not -avow it," said the Comtesse.</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney looked amazed at these opinions, -like one in doubt if she had not with -too much precipitation admitted an enemy -within the camp, in the person of Lord Albert; -and whilst canvassing the necessity of retrieving -her error, by his future exclusion, and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -the same time the policy of retaining one -of his interest and promise in her circle, with -a view to his reform, she directed her enquiries -to him in a tone almost dictatorial, as to the -ground of his faith in the merits of the society -he had been extolling. "Will you tell -me, Lord Albert, of whom are these parties -generally composed? I have yet to learn that -there are distinguished individuals capable of -creating such great interest apart from what is -generally termed the society of London; or, -I must conclude—but I will not do that -hastily—that you yourself have imbibed ideas -quite foreign to propriety, and have given way -to associations quite unfitting your situation in -the world."</p> - -<p>Lord Albert in his turn seemed astonished -at these categories, but answered with perfect -ease: "I have found at the Miss D.'s many -whom I meet elsewhere and, every where; but -my chief attraction is the number of talented -persons who are often assembled in the circle, -and whose conversation affords me the greatest -interest, and much instruction."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>"One do not go into society to be instructed," -said the Comtesse Leinsengen with -a sneer.</p> - -<p>"Surely not," added Lady Tilney, "clever -people are well in their way,—I mean your -really learned persons—men who have read, -travelled, written all their lives, but then it is -in one's own apartment in the morning that -they are sufferable. I know but very few indeed, -who are presentable, or who have the -true talent of turning their powers to account, -without torturing one to death with their -learning; and then without great circumspection -they become familiar, and one is obliged -to take so much trouble, and be so much on -one's guard, to keep them in their place. Be -assured, Lord Albert, you will find this to be -the case," continued Lady Tilney, "if you -give unlimited encouragement to <i>gens de ce -grade</i>—There is but one subject on which you -may listen to them, I mean politics; but how -few there are of the class who are enlightened -enough to speak on that subject. We have, it -is true, D— and B— C—, and the Count K—,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -sometimes with us; and among our own countrymen, -we have M— and a few others, but—"</p> - -<p>The Countess Leinsengen's impatience was -here manifested by the usual shrug of her -shoulders, and as she perceived Lady Tilney -embarking on the interminable ocean of politics, -turning quickly to Lord Albert she -enquired,</p> - -<p>"But who may be de very clever persons, -Milor, who give you so much amusement in -dis very charming society?"</p> - -<p>"Where there are so many to name, it is -hard to select," replied Lord Albert; "but -there was the great traveller, who has been -further into the interior of Africa than any -one has yet penetrated. His descriptions of -deserts, and skies, and camels, conveyed me -beside him in his pilgrimage; the trackless -sands in which no insect can find subsistence; -the well by which the caravan halted, the -only visible friend of the traveller throughout -the vast desert; the wide canopy of starry -heavens, spread out above; those heavens and -those stars, of whose clear brightness we in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -these cloudy regions have but a faint idea; -the varied and picturesque garb of guides and -guards; the meekness of the patient camel; -the silence of the march, unless some alarm -from the fierce and wandering tribes of the -country disturbed its tranquillity; and then -the noise, and gesticulation, and activity, which -accompanied the pitching of the tents for the -night's or noon's repose, were circumstances -all described and dwelt upon by the traveller, -with a nervous strength and accuracy of delineation -which nothing but original description -can give, and which came to me with so much -force and truth, and such beauty of imagery, -that I thought, as he spoke, travelling was the -only delightful way of passing one's life."</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney and the Comtesse Leinsengen -exchanged looks, while Lord Albert was thus -giving way to the natural feelings of a mind -yet untinctured with the follies of fashion, and -which saw no degradation to his rank in seeking -and finding amusement in the society of -enlightened persons.</p> - -<p>"Tell me," at length asked Lady Tilney,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -with an expression something like contempt, -"had you no <i>changement de décoration</i>; was all -your talk about camels, and deserts, and wells, -and stars?"—"Ah," cried the Comtesse Leinsengen, -"<i>avouez moi, Milor, que la nouvelle -du jour vaut been mieux</i>." Lord Albert smiled, -and allowed that this was amusing too in its -way; but he added,</p> - -<p>"We had a change of divertissement I assure -you, after dinner; <i>Il cantar che nel' anima si -sente</i> took the place of conversation for a time, -and Mr. M—"</p> - -<p>"Oh he is well enough," said Lady Tilney, -"in his place, and sings charmingly;" (for the -person in question was the Anacreon of her -party, and sometimes tuned his lays to subjects -on which party feeling and political animosity -loved to cast derision)—"he is well -enough."—"And sings, do you not think," -rejoined Lord Albert, "divinely? I have -heard others sing finely—sweetly—scientifically—even -feelingly; but such lightness, such -magic bursts of imagery, such painting of -sounds, I never heard but in his song."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And you have heard de Sontag: you -heard her dis last evening?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, often; I heard her at Vienna before -she came to England."</p> - -<p>"Well, and you prefer dis little gentleman—<i>tout -les gens sont respectables</i>;" and she -sneered, as if in contradiction to the words.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the parties will not bear a comparison," -added Lady Tilney, jealous of one -whom she patronized, and whose merits she -had in a measure acknowledged; and then, -turning to Lord Albert, she continued—</p> - -<p>"You must not mistake me, my dear lord; I -have no objection to the <i>sort of thing</i> you have -been describing. I honour talent, and delight -in conversation; but then it must be on a proper -footing; in circles where those persons -who talk, and talk very well I dare say, should -be under restraint; where they would feel themselves -debarred entirely from <i>undue</i> license, and -a consideration that they formed part of the -society, and where they would appear in their -true characters—to direct and amuse others -when called upon; just as actors and singers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -come upon the stage to play their parts, and -then retire. Now in the circle you allude to -all this necessary distinction is overthrown at -once—every one there, from the nature of -things, considers himself <i>pair et compagnon</i> of -the company, and behaves accordingly. In -small rooms—"</p> - -<p>"<i>On meurt de chaud au de froid, par parenthèse</i>," -interrupted the Comtesse, who dreaded -one of Lady Tilney's long discussions; "for -dere is one moment a thorough air, and de -next all is shut up, and one fries vid de fire; -but dat is always de case where dere is no <i>poêle</i> -stove—However, adieu ma belle; I must go -and leave you and Milor dere to settle all de -points about dat société which he likes so -much—adieu—<i>au revoir, Milor, je vous salue</i>."</p> - -<p>Lord Albert would have followed his natural -impulse of politeness, and handed the Comtesse -Leinsengen to her carriage; disposed, -perhaps, also to escape further conversation -with Lady Tilney on topics where they seemed -to hold no ideas in common. This, however, -he was not permitted to do, the Comtesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -declining his offered arm, saying she should never -be forgiven if Lady Tilney were deprived of -the triumph of converting him from his errors;—and -closing the door, as she insisted on his -remaining, Lord Albert was left tête-à-tête -with Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Do you not think she is terribly gone off -this year?" said the latter.</p> - -<p>"I do not know if I understand you. If it -be that her beauty is gone off, I should say -yes—but I never heard she <i>was</i> handsome."</p> - -<p>"No?" asked Lady Tilney, with an expression -of satisfaction; "but she is surely very -<i>distingué</i> looking."—"She has the advantage -of that species of polish which the world gives," -was Lord Albert's reply; "but this often covers -an unpolished mind—and I am not sure it is -the first thing I should look for."</p> - -<p>"I like nature as much as you can do, my -dear lord; I ever stood up for that liberty and -freedom attendant on persons not quite <i>fait au -feu</i>; but I must confess that I like to have -them a little dressed, <i>not perfectly raw</i>."</p> - -<p>How far Lord Albert might have found it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -possible to agree with Lady Tilney in this new -question, so suddenly started, it was not left -him to discover; for at that moment fresh -visitors were announced—and, as they entered, -Lord Albert prepared to depart. Not, however, -till Lady Tilney—who, spite of what she -called his false theories, saw he was a person by -no means to be hastily rejected—had bidden -him to her box at the Opera on Saturday evening. -"I am determined to be at the rising of -the curtain," she said, "to hear the Sontag—only -it is so difficult to be in time. Were you -ever in time in your life?"—</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have," answered Lord Albert, -smiling.</p> - -<p>"Then be at the very <i>premier congé d'arche</i> -on Saturday," added Lady Tilney, as he bowed -to her and left the apartment; glad to have -gotten over a visit of ceremony, where, from -the tone of conversation which had passed, he -augured that little in future would be found -consonant to his ideas or his tastes.</p> - -<p>As he rode from the door, Lord Albert -turned his horse towards the Park. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -one of the first Spring days that had shone in -the early year, and all the gayest of London -seemed hastening to enjoy its genial influence.—Yes, -even the weary and the <i>blazé</i> in life's -crooked paths appeared for a moment to acknowledge -the charm which the brilliancy of -the scene and the brightness of the atmosphere -combined to form. Smiles were in every face -and cheerfulness in every movement.</p> - -<p>Than the throng of Hyde Park there is perhaps -no promenade in Europe more dazzling; -none where more magnificence of equipage, or -more beauty of human form is displayed; and -it is difficult for the young, and the handsome -more particularly, not to feel intoxicated as -they enter on a stage where the whole appearance -is so fair, and where a consciousness of -personal charms assures them they must themselves -shine.—It is not probable that Lord -Albert D'Esterre, philosophical as he has just -appeared while discoursing with Lady Tilney, -was altogether free from feelings so natural to -his years, or from that species of vanity which -seeks a display of personal beauty, or whatever -other quality may best glitter in such a scene.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - -<p>He was young, strikingly handsome, possessing -a form of perfect symmetry, and moreover -one of the finest horsemen of his time. -What wonder then if, as he sought the crowded -road of the Park, something like self-love had -a share in the direction which he took, and the -choice made of the spot where he might breathe -the balmy air of such a day. As he joined some -of his acquaintances in the Ride, and stopped -to speak to others, passing from right to left -and from north to south in the gay and splendid -crowd, his recollections were naturally -turned to similar parades in other countries, -and he felt pride as an Englishman in considering -how far our national display of beauty -and of wealth outshone that of other capitals.</p> - -<p>"Neither Vienna, nor Paris, nor St. Petersburgh, -can rival this, Glenmore," he said, in -the buoyancy of his gratification at the scene—"nothing -that we ever beheld there is comparable -with this—now is it?"</p> - -<p>"You have chosen your day well," replied -the latter, "because, if it had been one of -those three hundred and sixty-five days of mist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -which we generally enjoy in this metropolis, I -should be disposed to dispute the point with -you, and set the sunshine of a Parisian Spring -against the brilliancy of our ladies' eyes and -the splendour of their retinues. And would -you not agree with me?"</p> - -<p>"Why, as a mere animal, I might, perhaps—climate -does affect our <i>physique</i>, I will -allow; but the national pride—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, bah! my dear D'Esterre your national -pride in this instance has nothing to do with -the matter;—and if the belles of Paris, or -Vienna, or the Calmuck beauties of St. Petersburgh, -could rival ours, their horses and coach-makers -surpass what you see before you, and -their summers be eternal, your <i>amour de la -patrie</i>, I fear, would not long continue <i>to bias</i> -your judgment. No, no, D'Esterre, that feeling -does not live on food like this; but we have -other and better sources for it, as you well -know and feel."</p> - -<p>Lord Albert's face shewed, in the generous -glow which suffused it, a sense of his friend's -appreciation of his sounder judgment; but he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -added, with a smile, "if you will not allow my -present admiration to proceed from such a -noble spring, at least do not accuse me of a -reverse of sentiment, if I draw a comparison, -in another respect, not at all favourable to my -countrymen. Do you observe that line of men -drawn up in battle array, and with impertinent -nonchalance passing judgment on the women -who drive before them? It must, or ought to -be, at least, offensive to the pride and delicacy -of the former; it would shock any European, -and is a custom more suited to eastern despotism, -and to the rules of an Asiatic slave mart, -than to a civilized nation."</p> - -<p>"But do you conclude, therefore, that the -men are alone to blame in this?" asked Lord -Glenmore; "and is it to be presumed that -they would have forgotten the courtesies and -respect due from them, if women in general -had been more true to the delicacies and -decencies of their own sex. Do justice to the -men while you blame the practice of the day, -and acknowledge, that if the nod, or motion of -the hand, or impertinent glance of recognition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -now takes place of the bow and respectful salutation -of other times, yet that there must have been -a sufferance of the change, if not an encouragement -of it, and an equal alteration of manners on -the other hand, or it would never have been."</p> - -<p>"I dare say you are right, Glenmore; and -if so the more the pity. But although custom -sanctions all change in reciprocal demeanour -between men and women, yet because the stiff -and <i>manière</i> address of the last century was -laid aside with the silk coat, and bag-wig, and -sword, I do not see why courtly manners should -have been exiled at the same time. So long as -society is to exist on a proper footing, there -must be an outward shew of proper feelings; -and when all deference in minor points ceases, -it is quite certain that all consideration of -respect in more serious matters will cease too."—"What -is that I hear?" cried Leslie Winyard, -riding up to Lord Glenmore's side, and -nodding familiarly to his companion;—"what -is that I hear about proper feelings, and all -consideration of respect? You are not moralizing -in Hyde Park I hope."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<p>"D'Esterre says that you men do very wrong -to sit on your horses, rank and file, and let the -ladies parade before you; and I think what he -says is true."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" replied Mr. Leslie Winyard, and -looking round in Lord Albert D'Esterre's face -with a sneer, "I believe if we were not to do -so, you would have very few beauties to admire -in your ride,—the women only come here to -see us."—"And what do <i>you</i> come for?" -asked Lord Glenmore smiling.—"Oh, to shew -ourselves, certainly: to <i>be</i> admired." Before -he could reply to the insufferable impertinence -of this speech—if indeed he would have -deemed it worthy any reply—an equipage -caught the eye of Lord Glenmore as it entered -the gate, and putting spurs to his horse he was -at its side in a moment and speaking to the -ladies in it. "Whose carriage is that?" asked -Lord Albert of Leslie Winyard, who continued -to saunter his horse in company with him.</p> - -<p>"It's the Melcombe's," he replied, after a -pause, and having put the handle of his whip, -which contained a glass, to his eye—"it's the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -Melcombe's: Georgina is a d—d fine girl. -Don't you know Georgina? they say Glenmore -is smitten,—I'll go and see the fun;" and, with -these words, this model of the gallantry of the -nineteenth century rode off. "What can he -mean," said Lord Albert to himself, "by calling -any woman familiarly by her name in that -manner, unless she be his sister or near -relative; but to me, a stranger almost to himself, -and to the party utterly unknown, what -abominable vulgarity, what detestable insolence!"</p> - -<p>There is no saying how far Lord Albert might -have gone on in his animadversions on the manners -of his sex, if he had been left quite to himself, -for there was enough around him, and before -his eyes, to provoke remark even in a mind -less alive to the niceties and decorum of polished -life. But his attention was called another way, -and he in turn was to become a subject of flippant -ridicule; to be set down as a person <i>à prétension</i>, -by the young men whose manners he -had very justly condemned, and who chose to -attribute to coxcombry and to affectation, a demeanour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -and a bearing which they had not the -power to imitate.</p> - -<p>A graceful inclination of the head from some -lady passing in the throng, and whose feathers -waved in unison with the movement, as she -bowed to Lord Albert, caught his eye. He -gazed for a moment, not recognizing the party, -but lifted his hat courteously from his head, -and as he looked back to ascertain better who -it was, perceived the carriage had stopped near -the gate. Turning his horse, therefore, he rode -in the direction, and discovered that it was Lady -Hamlet Vernon who had saluted him. He approached -the carriage, with all the air and gallantry -of a really high bred person, thanked -Lady Hamlet Vernon for the honour she had -done him, in recognizing him in the crowd; -apologized for his own blindness, and continued -for some minutes in conversation with her on -the beauty and gaiety of the scene, and on the -current topics of the day. His back was turned -at the time to the phalanx of horsemen, whose -ranks, and avowed occupation, had given occasion -to his remarks on the bad manners of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -age; and who now, assembled in closer body by -the gate, were ready to give their last glance of -scrutiny or recognition to the departing carriages.</p> - -<p>"That's a fine horse that man is upon," said -Lord Tonnerre, pointing to Lord Albert; "who -the devil is he?"</p> - -<p>"Oh! its D'Esterre," said Leslie Winyard, -"do you not know him a mile off, by all his -bows and grimaces: for me, I could 'wind him -i' the lobby, any where.'"</p> - -<p>"Damn the fellow, what business has he with -such a horse—can he ride?"</p> - -<p>"I should think not," drawled out Lord -Baskerville; "he is the most conceited animal -London has boasted for some centuries. I heard -him talk last night about that dear Sontag, till -I was sick."—"And, my lords and gentlemen," -said Leslie Winyard, in mock solemnity, "he -talked not only most fancifully, as my Lord -Baskerville avers, last night, but on this -morning too: and upon what? Divine, O ye -augurs! declare it, ye soothsayers!—Why he -discovered, in the very age and body of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -time—its forms and its complexion, and pronounced -our manners, rude; our bearing, unlike -gentlemen; our noble array here, barbaric -and uncivilized;—in short, [assuming his natural -tone] he is a d—d puppy. I caught him, -but now, preaching in this strain to Glenmore, -who, like a fool, said he agreed with him!"—A -general murmur burst from the circle which -had listened to Leslie Winyard, and the words -coxcomb, ass, puppy, poppinjay, and jackanapes, -issued simultaneously from the lips of -these polished ultras of ton.</p> - -<p>Lord Tonnerre alone was silent, but his features -shewed him to be as little in a mood -for gentleness as any of them. When having -grasped his rein, and put his horse on his -haunches, he glanced a look of intelligence to -those around him, and was off at full speed towards -the spot where Lord Albert, leaning from -his horse, was still conversing with Lady Hamlet -Vernon. Regardless of courtesy, or the consequences -of his impetuosity, he kept his violent -course till within half a neck of the carriage, -and then suddenly endeavoured to wheel round,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -and pass on the other side. Lord Albert's horse, -startled at this close and sudden approach, -plunged, and alarmed at the carriages and -noise, became, for a moment, unmanageable, -and broke away. His rider's admirable dexterity -and coolness, however, soon enabled him to rein -in this movement, and return towards the spot -from which he had started, and where his preoccupation -had prevented his observing that a -crowd of horsemen had gathered, who partially -stood round, or were dismounting, seemingly -to assist in some accident. He moved at a -quicker pace, and found that Lord Tonnerre's -horse, on being so roughly checked, had reared, -and fallen back on his rider.</p> - -<p>Lord Albert was on his feet in an instant, -and making his way through the throng was -as eager in his inquiries, and prompt to render -assistance to the sufferer, as if he had been personally -interested in him. He found, however, -no serious mischief had occurred. Lord Tonnerre, -with the exception of having been stunned -with the fall, and not yet able to rise, -seemed perfectly himself, and careless of what -had happened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>His first inquiries were for his horse; and -having been assured by several of his friends -that no injury had been sustained in that -quarter, he swore loudly against the animal -for a fault which had been entirely his own, -gave way to the most violent gesticulations -of angry passion against the curiosity (as -he called it) of the by-standers, and so disgusted -Lord Albert D'Esterre by his want of -proper feeling under an accident that might -have ended fatally, that the latter mounted his -horse once more, rode round to the other side -of Lady Hamlet Vernon's carriage to assure -her that she need be under no apprehension -for Lord Tonnerre's safety, and continuing by -her side as she proceeded out of the Park, left -the actors of this paltry scene to bear their -discomfiture as they best could.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER VI.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">"THE OPERA."</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is not to be supposed that Lady Tilney -should keep a determination formed fully one -hundred and forty-four hours before the season -of its fulfilment, or retain on the Saturday -evening the same degree of passionate admiration -of the Sontag's powers, which she -had expressed on the previous Wednesday to -Lord Albert D'Esterre, when announcing her -intention of being present at the first scene of -the Opera. She did, however, reach the house, -on the evening in question, before the conclusion -of the third act, and found the Comtesse -Leinsengen already in her box.</p> - -<p>"Eh bien, ma chere, à la fin vous voilà! have -you been ever since at dat tiresome dinner?"</p> - -<p>"Oh no; I drove home immediately after -you went away; but I had a thousand things of -consequence to do, and could not positively arrive -sooner. Amongst other things there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -great enormous card of invitation from the -D'Hermantons. It is quite out of the question <i>my</i> -going: and I think the affair ought to be overturned -as much as possible—our cause should -be established without offence directly given, -but decidedly; and if we are engaged elsewhere, -you know, our excuse of '<i>exceedingly -sorry</i>' will always effect this, and save us, in the -present instance, from the extensive and moral -acquaintances of the Duchess, and from the -<i>fadeur</i> of her evenings. I would myself send -out cards did I not think it would be too -marked; but some of us might do so. There -is Lady de Chére, I see, in her box; would you -arrange the business with her to-night in the -room—Do you agree with me, my dear Comtesse?" -Her friend nodded assent; and in her -abrupt rough voice said, "N'ayez pas peur! -I can always hold up my head and tread <i>down -de plebe</i>—we are used to dat; but for you, I -fear in dis country, you do not understand de -matter."—</p> - -<p>"You know, my dear Comtesse, I have -often explained to you, that our constitution—"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh! trève de politiques I implore," said -the Comtesse Leinsengen, turning her head -away, and looking towards the stage: "trève -de politiques je n'en puis plus; but fiez vous -en à moi."—</p> - -<p>"I am surely the last person you ought to -suspect unequal to that task! It is quite unjust -to me, dear Comtesse! Have you forgotten the -woman whom Lady Ellersby and myself -thought we could use? whom we actually paraded -for a season, maintained she was a beauty, -and a person 'qui feroit fureur;' and after all, -when she failed, left her planté in the midst of -the promised honours; actually ejected her -from Almack's, and if we met, walked over her -as a person whose face we had never seen!—Was -not this carried with a proper spirit?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, under my suggestion; but I could -have told you from de first that her <i>grand -nigaud de mari</i> would be always <i>à ses trousses</i>, -and prevent her being of the least service to -us. It is quite a mistake to attempt such a -measure, <i>ça sent le roman</i>, and I do hate all -romance—Dat young milor, (vat you name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -him?) dat was at your house de oder morning, -Lor—Lor Albert D'Esterre; I don't think, -upon my word, never I don't, dat he will do -us any good, I have my doubts dat he is only -<i>un espion</i>, and—" Whilst the Comtesse was -speaking, the door of the box opened, and -there entered, with an air of affected refinement, -a person whose appearance ill suited -with his outward show of courtliness—his face -was red and large, with grey eyes, his hair inclining -to flaxen, and his whole figure round -and ill-formed.</p> - -<p>This physiognomy, however, if Sir William -Temple would have allowed himself to be -natural, was an index to his disposition, -for he was <i>au fond</i> good-natured; but an -overweening vanity—a desire to be fine, -and be considered one of the beau-monde, -had spoilt the man, and he became insufferably -pompous and conceited—in proportion -as his exertions in good dinners <i>in</i> the season, -a good country house <i>out</i> of it, and a vote in -parliament, made him successful in obtaining -the notice of people of rank, and of the minister.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -The first thought his cook good, his -chateau, at an easy distance from London, -convenient—and the last, remembering the -old woman's adage, considered that every little -helped, and that Sir William's vote, so long -as it was on the right side, was as good as any -other. He had made his way thus far with -tolerable facility, but his ambition grew by -feeding on, and was only to be satisfied by -the attainment of the highest distinction of -the <i>ton</i> of the day; such as in his estimate was -conferred by the protecting smile of Lady -Tilney, the Comtesse Leinsengen and others -of that <i>élite</i> body.</p> - -<p>No opportunity therefore was lost, no pains -omitted to arrive at this desirable end, and to -improve the recognition with which Sir William -found himself at times honoured, into -what should at least <i>appear</i> a footing of intimacy. -An opera box was an outwork more -easy to be taken by a <i>coup de main</i>, than a -lodgment effected in the citadel itself; and -while unregistered on the favoured list of the -<i>entré</i> at Lady Tilney's mansion, the access to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -her circle in the public theatre, which was not -denied him, appeared a license of the utmost -importance, and one which he was the last -man to let grow obsolete by neglect of usage, -or forget to turn to profit.</p> - -<p>"Has not the Sontag outdone herself to-night, -Lady Tilney?" asked Sir William as he -entered the box.</p> - -<p>"Yes, never was there such a singer—I -have been listening till my very ears ache with -intense attention."</p> - -<p>"I am so glad, Lady Tilney, to hear you -say so, for I have been disputing the point -with Lord Albert D'Esterre, who maintains that -the Sontag's singing is not in the first style, -and a great deal more of the same sort; but -he might as well endeavour to persuade me -that Ude is inferior to Doveton's present man -Mariné. I think Lord Albert D'Esterre wishes -to be thought an oracle, and the superior judge -of all judges, and that without his decree there -can be no perfection."</p> - -<p>"<i>Vraiment</i>," said the Comtesse with a -shrug of her shoulders, "I think Milor might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -suspend his judgments till he heard if people -cared for dem."</p> - -<p>"Ah, how delighted I am Comtesse to hear -you say so," cried Sir William, repeating the -words he had first addressed to Lady Tilney, -and which indeed he addressed to every one -of <i>ton</i>, let what might be the subject, or the -sense that fell from them.</p> - -<p>"<i>Vraiment!</i>" again came drily from the -lips of Comtesse Leinsengen, accompanied -with a look at the speaker, which told him -that the contempt conveyed in that expression, -when speaking of Lord Albert, attached -equally to himself. Fully understanding the -intended meaning, and conscious that with the -Comtesse Leinsengen he had made much less -way than with Lady Tilney, he turned once -more to the latter, and addressed her on a subject -by which he knew well he should pay his -court successfully.</p> - -<p>"You were not at Lady Borrowdale's the -other night. You never saw such a set as were -assembled there; positively there was no -stirring without coming in contact with people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -whom one had never seen before—and -then it is such bad taste to collect such a -crowd—for my part, I got away after the first -glance at the affair." Lady Tilney smiled, and -Sir William, encouraged, continued, "Do you -dine at Doveton's?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so."</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to hear you say so. Lord -Osbalston asked me for the same day—but -Mariné, you know, lives with Doveton now, -and he could always turn the scale with -me" (laughing affectedly); "<i>Apropos</i>, might -I venture to ask the honour of your partaking -of my rustic fare? I am living, you know, quite -<i>en garçon</i>; but it would be a variety, so different -from all you meet elsewhere; so very -plain, and so very humble; and you would of -course do me the honour to name your own -party. Might I hope that you too, Comtesse, -would condescend so far?"</p> - -<p>This was the boldest step Sir William Temple -had yet taken; and he stood in proportionate -anxiety, breathless and red, awaiting a -reply which was to confirm or crush his hopes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -May be, like a second Cæsar, he felt that he -had crossed the limits of the empire, and saw -that victory only could retrieve what he had -hazarded, and that he must rise or fall by that. -If victory did attend him, then, like another -Alexander, he might weep for fresh worlds to -conquer; but if he fell,—"oh! what a fall was -there, my friends!" Such feelings, no doubt, -did agitate his swelling breast when he saw the -interchange of looks pass between Lady Tilney -and her friend, as if they questioned each -other.</p> - -<p>"Shall we gratify this man?" (this fool he -would have read, could he have interpreted -the Countess Leinsengen's expression): "shall -we countenance him?" and in the tremendous -moment of suspense Sir William blest his stars -that there were none by to mark him. But -when the joyful sound of Lady Tilney's voice -pronounced an acceptance of his petition, he -would have given every thing, short of the -promised honour itself, that the whole Opera -house had been present to witness his triumph. -"You will receive us <i>en garçon</i>, Sir William,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -dat will be very good," said the Comtesse Leinsengen: -"all I bargain for is dat there should -be no misses—dose unmarried women are -always in de way."</p> - -<p>Sir William was too much intoxicated with -joy—too much absorbed with the prospect of -his increasing consequence in the eyes of the -fashionable world, when it should be announced -that he had entertained the Comtesse Leinsengen, -Lady Tilney, and a party of distinguished -personages to dinner, at his house in -May Fair, to pay attention to any thing not -immediately connected with the results which -that dinner would produce. He had heard not -one word distinctly beyond the promised acceptance -of his invitation; although he continued -mechanically to reply, whenever he imagined -himself addressed. "I am so glad to -hear you say so!—I am delighted to hear -that!" At last, on recovering a little, he perceived -that Lady Tilney and her friend had -entered into an argument on the subject of the -unmarried ladies, to whom the Comtesse had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -alluded, and in which his dinner seemed entirely -forgotten, or likely to be so.</p> - -<p>"Dey are always tinking of settlements, and -jewels, and have nothing to do but take notice -of what oders are doing," rejoined the Comtesse -Leinsengen, in her most thrilling tone: "Our -way is much de better dan yours; we marry our -children at once, or put them in de convents: -dat settles de matter, and make dem much -happier too."</p> - -<p>"I am not quite so sure of that point, my -dear Comtesse," said Lady Tilney, "although -I own ladies are bores; but we manage the -thing in <i>our</i> way, and as well at least: we -let them <i>seem</i> to please themselves, which -is half the battle towards making them satisfied -with the lot they draw, and we ourselves -direct the entire <i>marche du jeu</i>. You know -I am for liberty in all things; liberty of -choice as well as conscience; but very young -people do not know what they wish and -it is only when a little acquainted with the -world that any body can be said to have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -choice." Sir William Temple remained in -torture during this discussion, and more than -once wished all the unmarried ladies in London, -who thus seemed to step in between himself -and fortune, at the bottom of the sea. At -length, tired, but not convinced, Lady Tilney -left her opponent in the middle of a sentence, -and turning to the unhappy Sir William, -asked, "for what day shall I make our party -at your house?"</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to hear you say that!" was -the prompt and very sincere answer of the -person addressed. "Oh, any day you do me -the honour to appoint."</p> - -<p>"Dat dinner of yours, Sir William, oh -vraiment je me fais fête d'y penser," cried -the Comtesse Leinsengen, turning abruptly -round to him, and determined that her rival in -argument should not have even that subject -entirely her own.</p> - -<p>"I hate vaiting and puts off; we vill fix de -day at once—vat say you to Sunday? to-morrow—de -Sunday is always frightful dull in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -your country; 'tis the only day, besides, in -which I am disengaged."</p> - -<p>"I'm so glad to hear you say so," replied -Sir William, "let it be to-morrow," turning -at the same time with a look of inquiry to Lady -Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Oh, after church there is no objection to -diverting one's-se1f innocently; it is impossible -to read and pray all day: besides I like -to make the Sunday, on principle, a gay, -chearful day."</p> - -<p>At this moment Lord Albert D'Esterre entered. -"Shall I ask him for to-morrow?" -eagerly whispered Sir William into Lady Tilney's -ear; afraid lest the subject nearest his -heart should again be usurped by some other -topic.</p> - -<p>"Yes—no—yes, you may;" replied Lady -Tilney; whose answer in the affirmative was -decided by her wish to know more of Lord Albert -in society, and a little also by Comtesse -Leinsengen's having held cheap her penetration -in regard to the qualifications of the former<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -for their <i>société choisie</i>. The invitation -was quickly given, and no excuse would be -admitted. While Lord Albert was endeavouring -to extricate himself from this importunity, -and Sir William to convince him of the -impossibility of disobeying Lady Tilney's commands, -which he advanced to strengthen his -cause, the Comtesse Leinsengen caught the -conversation:</p> - -<p>"So, Milor, you will not be at de party to-morrow? -an excuse vraiment! when de people -make <i>me excuse</i>, I know what dat means, -and it is made up in my mind never to ask -dem again."</p> - -<p>"When you have once expressed that horrible -sentence," answered Lord Albert, smiling, -"it would surely be impossible to incur so -great a danger; but as I am really not able -to give my assent to the very obliging invitation, -I shall not, I hope, be deemed deserving -of the penalty."</p> - -<p>"What! <i>then</i> you will <i>not</i> accept?" asked -the Comtesse Leinsengen again, in her own -abrupt tone of command.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No; I lament I cannot." The Comtesse -shrugged her shoulders, adding:</p> - -<p>"What! you will not accept, I suppose, -because it is Sunday; and you are engaged -all de day long to de Church; is it not dat—are -you what dey call a saint?" Lord -Albert felt annoyed by the importunity with -which he had been assailed; and conceiving, -according to his own ideas of good breeding, -that declining an invitation at first was sufficient, -he continued to look more grave and annoyed. -Still as the Comtesse repeated the -question:</p> - -<p>"Are you what dey call a saint?"</p> - -<p>"No, a sinner certainly; but would I were -indeed a saint."</p> - -<p>"So den you condemn us all, I suppose, -who do not keep de Sunday stupidly <i>à la -façon Angloise</i>? Vill you tell me now, Milor, -vat you tink one may do on a Sunday? I suppose -you would not hang your cat, <i>par exemple</i>, -if she killed her mouse on Sunday, vould -you?"</p> - -<p>Lord Albert D'Esterre looked still more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -cold and grave, as he drew himself up and -leant against the back of the box, saying, that -"it was an unfitting time and place for such -discussions, and that he begged to be excused -from entering upon them." Then bending -forward to Lady Tilney, who had remained -silent, and saying a few words to her, he bowed -and retired.</p> - -<p>"Il est farouche et fanfaron au possible," -cried the Comtesse Leinsengen, as he closed -the door; "after to-night I have done vid -him."</p> - -<p>"He is only original; and it will be a -great thing to soften his little prejudices, and -teach him to enjoy existence under your -tuition, if it were possible," said Sir William, -making as low a bow as his <i>embonpoint</i> would -permit, "'<i>to soften knotted oaks, and bend the -rocks</i>,' it would be done—"</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney smiled at the mis-quotation, -while the Comtesse Leinsengen added in a -tone of impatience: "but Miladi, do vat -she vill, cannot make a bore agreeable; but, -ah!" turning round, "dere is Milor Baskerville,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -how glad I am to have something -humanized to talk to! Milor, we have just had -a saint in our box; do you not smell de odour -of sanctity very strong?"</p> - -<p>"I am at a loss to know your meaning, -Comtesse—pray explain;" and when she did -so, he replied; "Hem! from the first moment -I saw him, I suspected that stiff unnatural -sort of manner had something sinister, (hem!) -I hope I am not worse than my neighbours, -(hem!) but whenever I hear any thing approaching -to cant (hem!) I fly from it, (hem!) -as I would from all that I hold most detestable; -(hem!) besides, since his conduct to -Tonnerre, I have considered him (hem!) -hardly in the light of a gentleman. (hem!) -You heard, Comtesse, did you not, of that -affair? (hem!)"</p> - -<p>"No, vat <i>affaire</i> you speak of?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you know he nearly caused Tonnerre -a most serious accident, and (hem!) his -favourite horse Chester, it is feared, is entirely -ruined."</p> - -<p>"No, I never heard one word of it, vat was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -it for?"—"Why, Tonnerre (hem!) was riding -up gently to speak (hem!) to Lady Hamlet -Vernon in the Park, (hem!) my Lord Albert -D'Esterre, who was by her carriage, (hem!) -chose to turn his horse short round, and to -shew his horsemanship, spurred the animal, -who plunged and kicked, and (hem!) Tonnerre's -horse was driven against the carriage -and reared, and fell back—(hem!) and—"</p> - -<p>"And what did de oder Milor do—did he -tumble off?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, (hem!) at least I believe he did, but -I don't know—we were all so engaged, (hem!) -in assisting Tonnerre—the last I saw of him -was his horse going through the Park Gate -like a shot, for he can't ride."</p> - -<p>"Baskerville," interrupted Lord Glenmore, -who had entered the box, and, while talking -with Lady Tilney, had overheard the latter -part of this veracious history,—"Baskerville, -you must pardon me if I correct -your statement a little. <i>You</i> may have -<i>heard</i> the circumstances only related, <i>I saw</i> -them—and if ever a man deserved having his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -neck broke, and losing a favourite horse, it -was Tonnerre. I never witnessed any thing -like the manner in which he rode, not <i>to</i> Lady -Hamlet Vernon's carriage, <i>but at</i> D'Esterre, -and if the latter had not been the excellent -horseman he is, I think there might have been -more serious results accruing to both than -actually happened. However, Tonnerre and -his horse are quite well, for I met both to-day." -Lord Baskerville had a mode of dropping the -corners of his mouth, raising his chin, and turning -up his eyes, whenever he wished to shew -signs of contempt; but too discreet to offend -a person of Lord Glenmore's calibre, he -managed to suppress them in some measure; -and having heard out what Lord Glenmore -had to say, turned without answering him to -the Comtesse Leinsengen.</p> - -<p>"Do not talk more about dat man, I pray -you, I am tired to death of his name," said -the latter; "but tell me, Milor, vill you and -Miladi Baskerville meet me to-morrow at dinner? -Miladi Tilney and myself are going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -do Sir William dere de honour to dine vid -him, and vid our own party."</p> - -<p>Lord Baskerville looked amazed, and before -he could recover his surprise, Sir William -himself seemingly confirmed the strange announcement, -by facing round and assuring -<i>Baskerville</i>, as he called him, on the strength of -many a good dinner before, that "he should -be delighted to see him; and Lady Baskerville -too, I hope will confer the same honour -upon me as these ladies." Lord Baskerville, -ere he answered, directed a look of -inquiry to the Comtesse Leinsengen, to ascertain -if the matter were really serious.—"Oh, -you must come vid me," said the -Comtesse, "I positively vill have no excuse."</p> - -<p>"I am ever ready to obey your commands, -Comtesse, you know, and—"</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to hear you say so," cried -Sir William. (Lord Baskerville drew up.) -"And Lady Baskerville?" continued the former.</p> - -<p>"Hem! <i>I</i> cannot <i>answer for Lady</i> Baskerville, -Sir William—but (hem! hem!) I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -certainly inform her of the invitation, and -(hem!) should she have no other engagement, -(hem!) doubtless she will be most happy, and -(hem!) will wait upon you; (hem!) but dear -me the Opera is ended," looking at his watch, -and turning to Lady Tilney. "Oh those -tiresome bishops—really I wish people would -not meddle with what (hem!) they have nothing -to do,—we are always now deprived of -half our ballet on the Saturdays." (hem!)</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est vraiment ridicule</i>," murmured the -Comtesse Leinsengen: "dere is no country in -de world where dis sort of foolish ting takes -place but in England."</p> - -<p>"It is rather an infringement upon our -liberties, I will allow," observed Lady Tilney, -"to turn us out of our Opera boxes at a particular -hour."</p> - -<p>"Liberty—liberty—dat liberty of the subject -is all a farce, chere Miladi; it is all a make -believe, as I often have de honour of telling you. -Lord Baskerville, vill you be so obliging—my -schall."</p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, however, would not suffer the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -Comtesse to go till she had spoken to her again -on the subject of their <i>soirée</i> at Lady de Chere's. -"The Duchess of Hermanton's night will be a -very good opportunity," she said; "to let the -world know that we do not mingle in societies -of the kind; all the regulars, as they consider -themselves, look upon D'Hermanton House as -head-quarters, and make a point of attending -like subalterns gaping for promotion; and if we -are there it will have the worst possible effect. -Then again, such as we choose to invite to -Lady de Chere's, will understand what is meant, -<i>sans nous compromettre</i>, and hold off in future -from engagements like the D'Hermanton's. -You know it would be unwise and impolitic to -impart our intentions to all indiscriminately -who compose our circle; but we must at the -same time afford some guide for conduct. If -we do as I propose the affair will be very well -understood, without our being unpleasantly -involved, and the system will answer well, -n'êtes vous pas de mon avis, chere Comtesse?"—"Peût-être -qu'oui," was the Comtesse's answer, -accompanied by the habitual shrug of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -shoulders; "and," continued Lady Tilney, -"I think there was every one at my house -the other night who ought to be invited. Shall -I send Lady de Chere my list?"</p> - -<p>"I will see about dat; but first we must -know if Miladi vil do as we wish. Laissez-moi -faire, j'arrangerai tout ça," and taking Lord -Baskerville's arm, she was leaving the box—</p> - -<p>"But what shall we do about dat dinner to-morrow, -chere Miladi?" she added in a lower -tone to Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Oh go, by all means; he is well enough—will -be so pleased that we may do henceforth -as we like with him, and it allows others -to hope for the same honour."</p> - -<p>"Vell, den, I vill go—remember Milor you -are engaged to me to-morrow." Lord Baskerville -made one of his most refined bows. -"And who else shall we have?" asked the -Comtesse of Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Oh! I don't know; there are the Boileaus -and Lord Gascoyne, and Prince Luttermanne, -and Lord Tonnerre."</p> - -<p>"Dose vill do very well; I vill tell dem if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -I see dem in de room. Adieu, chere Miladi. -Ve shall dine vid you to-morrow, Sir William," -she added as she left the box.</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to hear you say so!" replied -the happy Sir William Temple.</p> - -<p>"May this be true!—O may it—can it be;—Is -it by any wonder possible?" whispered -Spencer Newcombe, who had heard the Comtesse -Leinsengen's last words, and now approached -Sir William with affected surprise.</p> - -<p>"Come, my master; if so, the great ones -shall not have you all to themselves," he continued: -"I too will dine with you to-morrow. -Lady Tilney, are you of the party?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Why, where is the sign now? have ye -e'er a calendar—where's the sign, trow you?" -Spencer continued saying.</p> - -<p>"The what?" asked Sir William.</p> - -<p>"The sign—Believe me there's a most secret -power in that! Court any woman in the right -sign, Sir William, as you have done, and you -shall not miss."</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to hear you say so!" replied -Sir William.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I believe he thinks you allude to the sign-post -of an inn," whispered Lord Boileau, who -had joined the party, "and it suits well -enough to a dinner-giving man like him." -Lady Tilney now prepared to leave the box; -and taking the arm of the Duke of Mercington, -was followed by all the men who had paid their -visit and their court to her.</p> - -<p>Sir William seemed to look with pride on -the world behind him, as he mingled in the -crowd; conscious of the mark of fashion which -would from the morrow be emblazoned on his -brow; and in the hurry of the throng, and in -the quiet of his pillow, the glory of his future -success and progress alike presented itself to -him that night in a thousand forms.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER VII.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">THE DINNER.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Lord Baskerville announced to Lady -Baskerville the names of those who composed -Sir William Temple's dinner party, she was -sufficiently astonished; but felt there could be -no compromise in being present, and at once -accepted his invitation. The affair being considered -rather in the light of a party to Richmond, -or some similar gaiety, several of the -guests went together. Prince Luttermanne -attended Lady Tilney; the Boileaus joined -Lady Hamlet Vernon; and Lord Baskerville -engaged his friend Lord Tonnerre to accompany -himself and Lady Baskerville.</p> - -<p>As the carriage of the latter proceeded down ----- street, they passed the church at the -moment when Lord Albert D'Esterre was -leaving the door, after evening service. Lady -Baskerville's quick eye immediately recognized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -him, although mingled in a crowd of those -denominated the common people; and pointing -him out to Lord Tonnerre, the latter asked, -in his usual tone of command,</p> - -<p>"What can <i>he</i> be doing in that crowd?"</p> - -<p>"Isn't it Sunday?" rejoined Lord Baskerville, -yawning. "He has been, I suppose, -(hem!) to some conventicle. (hem!)"</p> - -<p>"Yes, he looks like one of those d—d Methodists, -who would ring people to church -from morning to night, by G—;" (Lord Tonnerre -forgot that swearing was no longer a -fashionable vice) "they ought to be scouted -from society."</p> - -<p>"True," replied Lord Baskerville, "I think -(hem!) that it would do a great deal of good -to society, if (hem!) they were all run up, <i>à la -lanterne</i>."</p> - -<p>"Ay, hang them—hang them as high as -you can see," continued Lord Tonnerre; "rid -the land of them any how. There's my father—I -wish <i>he</i> had them for once in his -hands; there's not a stricter person on earth -than my father; he'll suffer no immorality,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -he'll have no profligacy in the family; but if -one of these canting rascals was ever known to -cross his door, or to be found on his estates, -he'd make short work with him—he'd send -him away with marks which the fellow would -carry to his grave,—by G— would he. All -this comes, however, from the manner in which -we pass our Sundays. I hate foreigners and -all their d—d ways; but they act more sensibly -than we do in regard to Sunday: they let the -people amuse themselves after church. It's -right to go to church, and all that,—that I'll -allow; but I am sure the common people -would be much better afterwards with what -is fitting for them, quoits, or nine-holes, or -cricket, or something to busy them with, instead -of going to Methodist meetings, where -they turn saints, merely because they have no -better amusement; unless, indeed, it be the -alehouse."</p> - -<p>"And there get drunk," remarked Lady -Baskerville; "that would be vastly better, -vastly more moral. When you and Baskerville -rule the state, things will be much better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -managed, no doubt." This was said half sneeringly; -for Lady Baskerville for some reason -was not in very good humour.</p> - -<p>"Hem!" rejoined Lord Baskerville; "I -must beg your Ladyship would limit what you -say to yourself. It is (hem!) a liberty I <i>never</i> -take <i>with you</i>, to say what you <i>would</i> or would -<i>not</i> do (hem!)" Upon this a silence ensued in -the trio; when a few minutes broke the awkwardness -occasioned by it, and they found -themselves arrived at Sir William Temple's -door.</p> - -<p>Lord Tonnerre offered his arm to Lady Baskerville -as they alighted; while Lord Baskerville, -to avoid the unfashionable appearance of -entering the room with his wife, stopped, seemingly -for the purpose of giving orders to his -servants, till such time as he imagined he -could walk in alone. There were arrived of -the party only Lady Tilney and Prince Luttermanne. -Lord Baskerville, having made his -bow, retired to a sofa, discomposed at finding -that the Comtesse Leinsengen, on whose -appearance he had staked the whole of his consequence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -and the excuse of his presence, was -not yet come. Lord Tonnerre too, displeased -that Sir William Temple continued to occupy -Lady Baskerville with the profusion of his -acknowledgments for the honour done him, -and that Lady Tilney appeared too much engaged -to notice any one, stood for some moments -in gloomy silence, when at length Lord -Somerton entered.</p> - -<p>"How d'ye do, Somerton?—glad to see -you," was Sir William's salutation to his guest, -as he held out a finger to him, and continued -talking to Lady Baskerville.</p> - -<p>"Tonnerre," said Lord Somerton, turning -away from this brief reception with a degree of -contempt; "come aside, I have something to -tell you;" when a deep discussion on matters -interesting and intelligible to the former seemed -to ensue, since it was productive of a partial -relaxation of the scowl which generally characterized -his face when he felt himself, as in -the present instance, overlooked, or when subjects -indifferent to him, or above his comprehension, -were alluded to.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lady Tilney, hitherto absorbed in her conversation -with Prince Luttermanne, now looked -up, and addressing Lady Baskerville with an -air of protection, invited her to come and take -the seat next to her. "What a vastly pretty -cap you have on!—do tell me where you got -it; and, my dear Lady Baskerville, if you have -nothing better to do, pray don't forget to come -to me to-morrow night. Have you seen any -thing of Lord Albert D'Esterre to-day? What -do <i>you</i> think of him? <i>I</i> can hardly understand -him yet; sometimes I think one thing, -sometimes another. They say he is a Methodist—how -extraordinary! if he was not young, -or not handsome, or not <i>d'une bonne tournure</i>, -one might suppose such a thing; but as it is I -don't believe it—do you?"</p> - -<p>"I have not seen enough of him to judge," -was the cautious reply (for Lady Baskerville -could be cautious where so deep a stake was at -hazard as fashionable consideration); "but I -think he rather affects singularity."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps so; but then you know he will -soon correct that fault when he has lived a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -little longer amongst us. I have heard that he -is engaged to be married;—do you know if it -is true?"</p> - -<p>"I did hear," said Lady Baskerville, "something -about a Lady Adeline Seymour, a cousin -of his who has been brought up in the shades, -and is said to be a world's wonder of beauty, -and purity, and perfection; but the engagement -was an affair of the papa's and mamma's, -and probably the parties themselves will hate -each other in consequence."</p> - -<p>At this moment the Comtesse Leinsengen -was announced, and then followed Lord and -Lady Boileau, Lady Hamlet Vernon, Mr. -Spencer Newcombe, and Lord Gascoigne, each -received with that portion and kind of welcome -which marked a well-studied knowledge -of Debrett on the part of Sir William Temple, -who felt himself the deity of the day, -and who, complimentary, facetious, pompous, -<i>affairé</i>, and familiar by turns, according to the -<i>calibre</i> of the person he addressed, moved about -the apartments like some presiding Joss or -Amsterdam Cupid. The whole party were at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -length assembled, the dinner announced, and -the company withdrew to enjoy the very best -<i>artiste's</i> best efforts, put forth on an occasion so -replete with honour and distinction to his <i>employé</i>. -Lord Baskerville contrived to place -himself next to the Comtesse Leinsengen, -whose hand, in her <i>qualité d'ambassadrice</i>, the -master of the feast had shewn his skill in precedence -by soliciting, as he led the way to the -dining-room; a circumstance, by the way, fortunate -for him on his <i>début</i>, for although Lord -Baskerville's arm would have been far more -agreeable, yet the Comtesse would never have -pardoned such a neglect of her grade in favour -of her dear friend Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>Of the other arrangements of the party it -would be unnecessary to speak, and equally useless -to catalogue the dinner itself. It is known -to all that in London, after the first few weeks -of the season, every one's table who gives a -dinner is covered in exactly the same way—there -may be degrees of excellence in the flavour -and science of the dishes; but the things -themselves are, as the Geneva traveller said of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -travelling, "<i>toujours la même chose, toutes -les villes sont les mêmes, vous avez des maisons -à droite et des maisons à gauche—et la rue au -milieu—c'est toujours la même chose</i>."</p> - -<p>It is true there are certain critical periods in -a spring season, in which nature's fruits, still -immatured, are brought to perfection by the -fostering hand of man; and on these the deep -and skilful in gastronomy will seize as apt -occasions for a display of superior taste and -refinement; then, and then only is it, as is well -known, that cucumbers are lawful, green peas -to be suffered, and strawberries and peaches tolerated; -but beyond this there is even yet another -point—"a grace beyond the reach of art"—the -very North Pole of elegance—the paradox, -it may be called, of the gastronomic system—it -is to display these productions when positively -they are not to be got. Happy the man who -so succeeds—thrice happy Sir William, that on -this day the stars so ordered it, that while London -was yet innocent of cucumbers or peas, -you should be profuse of both;—that when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -peaches and strawberries had not so much as -crossed the thoughts of the most refined, they -too in abundance graced your board. Oh! -happy consummation of those honours, which -from the last evening seemed about to centre -round your head, and raise you to the pinnacle -of gastronomy and of <i>ton</i>. During the -first moments of all dinners a very few monosyllables -are uttered—a sort of murmuring -conversation then ensues between the -parties nearest each other,—till at last one individual -more gifted or more hardy than the rest -hazards a remark across the table, and the -talking becomes general.</p> - -<p>It was Lady Tilney who on the present -occasion broke the monotony of those half-audible -sounds that whispered round the table. -"Lord Gascoigne," she said aloud, "I hope -you are really going to put down that vile -newspaper, The ——, it is a disgrace to -London."</p> - -<p>"I should have thought that you, Lady -Tilney, would rather have upheld a paper of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -its principles, and which affords such a proof -of what you always profess to have so much at -heart—the liberty of the press."</p> - -<p>"You must pardon me, it has nothing to do -with the liberty of the press,—but a great deal -with its abuse,—besides, the liberty of the press -applies only to politics—not to private affairs."</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est selon</i>," replied Lord Gascoigne with -provoking suavity of manner; "if we publish -ourselves what we do, we court public remark."</p> - -<p>"She cannot forget or forgive," whispered -Spencer Newcombe to Lord Baskerville, "that -she herself was once the target at which some -of the severest shots of this paper were sent."</p> - -<p>"How?" asked the latter.</p> - -<p>"Why, when, for party's sake, she was once -about to take a step.... I cannot tell -you about it now—some other time," he added, -as he turned to Lady Boileau, who had asked -the same question of him thrice.</p> - -<p>"Publish ourselves! my dear Lord," continued -Lady Tilney to Lord Gascoigne, "why -we never do that if our actions attract notice -from our situation."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>"They should be more looked to," was the -reply of the latter, interrupting her; "if there -is nothing to censure, the satirist's occupation -is gone."</p> - -<p>"Vraiment Milor treats de subject en -moraliste, and as if himself vas a paragon -of excellence dat could not err. Pray, Milor, -do you always tink so wisely on vat you do, dat -you never do nothing wrong yourself?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, do wrong—yes a thousand times a day, -Comtesse,—but when I do, I do not quarrel with -the world because it will not think me right, -nor if it call me a fool or a knave, am I angry—for -perhaps it is a truth—at any rate, other -and better men than I have been called the -same."</p> - -<p>"It is an execrable paper," said Lady Tilney; -"and ought to be burnt by the hangman."</p> - -<p>"It is an abominable ting," said the Comtesse -Leinsengen, "and would not be suffered in -any country but England."—Lady Tilney -would have interrupted her, but the Comtesse -was bent on proceeding: "I repeat, as I have -often had de honor to tell you, dat de English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -are a people of contradictions; dey talk always -of dere great <i>purité</i>,—dere <i>virtue</i>—and den -suffer so quietly all dose vile tings to be said of -dem in de public prints." Lord Gascoigne, -who did not care one straw what was said -either of himself or any one else, perceiving he -had sufficiently fanned the growing indignation -of Lady Tilney by his apparent callousness to -public attack, for a moment remained silent, -amused to hear the topic discussed in other -hands. Lady Tilney loved argument, and for -its sake often adopted opinions which at other -times she would as strongly have opposed.</p> - -<p>"If the things alluded to <i>are done</i>," she continued, -addressing herself to the Comtesse -Leinsengen, "they are <i>better told</i>—I always like -every thing to be told."</p> - -<p>"Vid de exception always, ma chere amie, of -vat concerns one's-self," replied the Comtesse -sharply.</p> - -<p>"But I deny that there is any truth," -rejoined Lady Tilney, not appearing to notice -this last remark; "I deny that there is any -truth in any thing that comes through such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -an abominable channel as that paper; all its -remarks are the offspring of impertinent -malice or envious vulgarity, and all its facts, -falsehoods."</p> - -<p>"Hem!" said Lord Baskerville, in his slowest -and most imposing tone, "these things have -always been, Lady Tilney, and always will be. -Some satirist or other, (hem!) has always lived -since the Flood, from Lycophron down to our -own day, to lash the vice and follies of the age, -as <i>they</i> say; but in fact to indulge that spleen -which is common to the canaille at all periods. -And after all, what does it signify? Nobody -thinks about any thing that is said of any body—hem!—nine -days after it is said—hem!"</p> - -<p>"If I ever saw <i>my</i> name in that d—d paper," -exclaimed Lord Tonnerre, while his brow was -knit in tremendous frowns, "if ever allusion -were made to me—the writer should eat his -words."</p> - -<p>"My dear Tonnerre," rejoined Lord Gascoigne, -once more taking up the conversation, -"you would find he has an ostrich's stomach. -But why should such a toy trouble you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>"By G——, the writer shall suffer," replied -Lord Tonnerre, furiously, "he shall suffer—he -shall pay—"</p> - -<p>"Who," asked Lady Boileau quietly, "who -shall pay?"</p> - -<p>"The scoundrel—the —— who has dared -to use my name," answered Lord Tonnerre, -after several efforts at utterance, which his passion -for some moments impeded.</p> - -<p>"But you must discover <i>who</i> is the <i>who</i>," -replied Lord Gascoigne, with provoking calmness -of manner.—"Junius himself was never -hid so successfully as is this writer. You will -find it fencing in the dark, Tonnerre, if you -meddle with him.—But I see you are angry; -now take my advice, when you are so use this -antidote—it is an excellent rule I learned -from my grandfather—repeat your alphabet; -and that being done, your anger will be over -too." Lord Tonnerre's face moved convulsively -in every muscle, and his whole frame -seemed to writhe under the words of Lord -Gascoigne.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He boils like a pot," whispered Spencer -Newcombe.</p> - -<p>"Oh, do not vex him, pray," said Lady Baskerville; -"he is <i>only nervous</i>."</p> - -<p>"Mad, mad!" rejoined Lord Gascoigne, -"pray take heed." With many hems and ha's, -Sir William Temple remarked, that for his -part he thought it cruel to delight in mischief; -that to him it always appeared a most uncharitable -practice to wound another's feelings—and -somewhat rude too; fit only for the -vulgar.</p> - -<p>"The pleasure or amusement," he continued, -"of saying ill-natured things is quite -beyond my comprehension—quite inconceivable. -I remember, when I used to live a good -deal at D—— House, there was a rule established -that no one should notice, remark, or -seem to observe what was passing;—it was -considered so very vulgar to interfere with -other people's affairs—all were left at large -without account or question—and the consequence -was, there never was any thing so enchanting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -since the world began as that society—so -<i>suave</i>, so equal, so gentle, so serene;—not -a voice ever heard louder than a whisper—every -one so well amused, every one so well employed, -that <i>ennui</i> was unknown. There never was -any thing to compare to that society."</p> - -<p>"<i>De graces!</i>" exclaimed the Comtesse Leinsengen, -as Sir William concluded this effusion -of his reminiscences, "<i>de graces!</i> do not -tell us, Sir Villiam, of <i>vat</i> <span class="smcap">VAS</span>: to talk of <i>tings</i> -gone being delightful is like telling a woman -who is <i>passée</i>, 'I remember when you were so -admired.' De ting to talk of is <i>to-day</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course," rejoined Sir William, -taking the Comtesse's last words <i>au pied de la -lettre</i>, "of course the society of to-day—the -society <i>here</i>—is <i>par excellence</i>, the most delightful -in the world." A nod here passed between -Spencer Newcombe and Lord Gascoigne, indicative -of Sir William having escaped from his -blunders with more adroitness than they had -given him credit for; and at the same moment -the ladies rose to depart.</p> - -<p>"<i>Vraiment</i>," exclaimed the Comtesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -Leinsengen, as she entered the drawing-rooms, "I -do tink, as we are de deities of dis fête, ces -messieurs might for once have broken through -dere abominable customs, and accompanied -us; but dat terrible Lord Somerton and dat -young milor Tonnerre would tink, I suppose, -de constitution in danger, if dey did not remain -at de table after de ladies.—I vonder, Miladi -Baskerville, comme Milor est votre éléve, dat -you do not teach him better."</p> - -<p>"Dear Comtesse, not I, I assure you—it is -quite enough to take care of one's-self; I never -interfere with other people's affairs—nothing -would induce me to undertake any body's education."</p> - -<p>"I believe you are very wise," said Lady -Boileau; "the <i>laissez faire</i> and the <i>laissez aller</i> -is the best rule."</p> - -<p>"I do not quite agree with you in that," -said Lady Tilney; "how could we have a -pleasant or a distinguished society if that -system was allowed to prevail? how could -we—"</p> - -<p>"La! what sinifies dat?" said the Comtesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -Leinsengen, as she arranged her <i>bérin</i> at the -glass; "<i>Vos milliners ne valent rien</i>—I have just -sent to Paris, and then I shall have a <i>coiffure</i> -that will not be so hideous."</p> - -<p>"Did you observe the Duchesse D'Hermanton's -last dress?" asked Lady Baskerville; -"she did think it was perfection; one feather -on the top of another, flower upon flower, -flounce upon flounce, jewel upon jewel, till -she was one mass of moving millinery—I never -saw such a figure since the days of Lady Aveling's -ambassadress' glory."</p> - -<p>"Vat sinifie vat dose women do? D'ailleurs -les Angloises ont toujours singé les modes." -In this, and similar conversation, passed the -hour of separation in the drawing-rooms, -while at the dinner-table the subject of discussion -possessed as little interest as is generally -found in society so constituted.</p> - -<p>"Baskerville, Boileau, Gascoigne," said -Sir William Temple, as he resumed his chair -after the departure of the ladies, "will you -not come up, and in the short absence we are -doomed to suffer from our fair companions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -let us find comfort in this poor earthly Nectar?" -(Sir William believed his wines to be the best -in creation.) "Baskerville, what wine do you -take?"</p> - -<p>"Claret," was the reply of the latter, accompanied -by a look of surprise which seemed -to say, "of course."—"Did you ever hear -such a question!" he added in an under-tone -to Lord Boileau.</p> - -<p>"Never—he might as well have asked if -one would try Chambertin after <i>Truites à -l'Aurore</i>, or <i>Clos de Voguet</i> after <i>Bécasses à la -Luculle</i>!" rejoined Lord Baskerville.</p> - -<p>"Fools were made for jests to men of sense," -whispered Spencer Newcomb, "and I know -of no one who affords more amusement than my -friend there, Sir William."</p> - -<p>"How officious and <i>affairé</i> he was in contriving -this party," said Lord Gascoigne.</p> - -<p>"And how puzzled, lame, and lost in prosecuting -it!" rejoined the other.</p> - -<p>"He is a most substantial ass," said Lord -Baskerville.</p> - -<p>"Tonnerre," asked Sir William at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -moment, and affecting to vary the theme, -according to the taste of the person, "Do you -know which is the favourite for the Derby?"</p> - -<p>"Gad, he turns his words as many ways as -a lathe," whispered Lord Gascoigne again—"understands -all subjects alike, and is as -learned as the occult philosopher of Hudibras."</p> - -<p>"And as much renowned for profound and -solid stupidity," rejoined the latter. A laugh -escaped at these words; and as their "ha! ha! -ha!" passed round, Sir William laughed louder.</p> - -<p>"Very good that, Spencer, I just caught -the end of it—the point is always in the tail -you know."</p> - -<p>"He caught it," said Lord Gascoigne, repeating -the words, and looking at Spencer -Newcomb; "do you think he did?"</p> - -<p>"If it was with his mouth, he might certainly—for -it is large enough to catch any thing—and -he is welcome; I give him my jest for his -dinner, it is the only return I ever make."</p> - -<p>"And you thrive on your bargain generally, -Spencer, I should suppose."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - -<p>"How long do you think I took from Penzance -to town?" said Lord Tonnerre aloud; -and without waiting for any reply added,—"Eighteen -hours by ——, in hack chaises -too, changing every stage."</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> do not conceive it much to do," rejoined -Lord Baskerville. "I remember, (hem!) once -leaving town seven hours after the mail; and -though I had rips of horses, I arrived, (hem!) -at twenty minutes before his Majesty's stage -coach, (hem!)"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Lord Gascoigne, "well, -Basky, that is excellent,—ha! ha! ha! -that is excellent,—ha! ha! ha!" The abbreviation -of his patronymic was always distasteful -to Lord Baskerville, and on this occasion -he not only felt his dignity compromised by -the license of Lord Gascoigne's address, but -was himself offended by the covert suspicion -conveyed of the substantiality of the fact he -had related; turning therefore away with an -air of contempt, he addressed himself to another -of the party. Lord Gascoigne, however, -was not so easily to be silenced, and exchanging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -looks with those who had watched the -scene, added, with very provoking calmness,</p> - -<p>"Basky, you were not offended, I hope, -with any thing I said, I meant only—"</p> - -<p>"Not at all," replied Lord Baskerville, the -corners of his mouth dropping in the exact -angle of scorn by which, as a mathematical -man of <i>ton</i>, he would have described his contempt -of the speaker,—"not at all, Gascoigne; -I beg you won't think of it;"—and he turned -again to the party with whom he was conversing.</p> - -<p>"Beat—beat, Gascoigne," exclaimed Spencer -Newcomb.—Lord Baskerville looked -around with a dignified air, and for a moment -silence ensued, not however without -a wink passing from Spencer Newcomb, implying -that they had gone as far as was advisable. -But Lord Gascoigne was not to be -stopped without a farewell shot, as he added, -"Well, Baskerville, we start at eight, and -breakfast at nine, is it not so?" The latter -again tried to look grave, but obliged at -length in self-defence to join in the laugh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -which followed these words, he let fall for an -instant the mask that too often covered his -most trivial actions, and appeared the good-hearted -good-humoured creature nature had -made him.</p> - -<p>"Somerton," said Sir William Temple, -breaking the subject of conversation, "do you -remember when you were at my chateau in the -north?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," was the dry reply he received from -one who, though he eat his dinners, held him -in the most sovereign disdain, and this "yes" -sounded harshly on the ears of Sir William, -living as he did in the praises bestowed on his -establishments, and never losing an opportunity -of referring to the subject of them; -nor was he less annoyed, as he observed a -whisper pass between his northern guest and -Lord Tonnerre, to whom Lord Somerton had -turned after his very short and laconic reply, -and added,</p> - -<p>"The fellow had one covey of partridges, -two dozen of Burgundy, and a mistress; I -made love to the one, drank the other, killed -the third, and then quitted."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Good," said Spencer Newcomb, who had -overheard what passed; "he would have pardoned -you, however, the first, if you had -praised the others."</p> - -<p>"No doubt he would," replied Lord Somerton, -"but on my conscience I could not do -it, and I presume he feels this as well as myself, -for I shall make him give me a dinner the -first day in the week I am disengaged." Thus -fared Sir William Temple in the hands of -those for whom he had lavished, and <i>incessantly</i> -lavished, an expense which, if properly directed, -would have rendered him an amiable, -respectable, and happy individual. As it was, -he spent his money on objects despicable in -themselves, and for persons absolutely turning -him into ridicule while enjoying his bounty.</p> - -<p>The party from the dining-table soon after -arose, some having attained the object for -which alone they came, the enjoyment of a -dinner; others who had yet a further motive, -ascended to the drawing-rooms, and after passing -there sufficient time to complete arrangements, -arrange departures, and fix dry points<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -that needed discussion for the morrow's amusement -or occupation, took their departure also, -leaving Sir William Temple to feed on the -empty honour which remained to him, of -having entertained in his house in May-fair -so distinguished a party; none of whom, however, -beyond the dinner-living Lord Somerton, -Spencer Newcomb, and one or two lordlings, -ever intended to think more of him for the -future.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">THE CONTRAST.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the evening of Sir William Temple's -dinner-party, the invitation to which Lord -Albert had declined, he retired at an early -hour to his study; and having closed his door, -he sat some minutes with his head reclining -on his hands, endeavouring to shut out the -frivolous insignificances of many late past -evenings, and to recal those of a very different -description and tendency.</p> - -<p>A sweet and silvery tone of feeling analogous -to a fine Wilson that hung opposite to -his writing-table, shed a serene, self-satisfying -sensation over his mind; it might be -a false complacency, yet complacency for -the time being it was—and he opened his -writing-box, in the lid of which was a -portrait. This portrait represented a very -youthful girl intently busied in copying a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -bust, the likeness of himself. A flush passed -over his countenance, his eyes sparkled, and -a genuine sensation of rapture thrilled through -his heart, as he said,</p> - -<p>"Oh! how superior to all I now see around -me—young, innocent, intelligent, the dignity of -human nature is here! Gazing at this image, I -can never err; it would recal me to the path -of rectitude were I ever so inclined to swerve -from it." At that moment a letter caught his -attention; it was still unanswered—again he -coloured, for it had remained so since the preceding -morning; and such a letter! Now -with an eagerness that would have redeemed -the slight, he actually kissed the opened page; -and previous to replying to it, re-perused the -following contents of</p> - -<p class="center">LADY ADELINE SEYMOUR'S LETTER.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"I think it a long time, dearest Albert, since -I have heard from you. But then you are so -busy, and have so many things to do; whereas -I have nothing to do, but to count up minutes, -days, and hours; yet this is so wrong, that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -blame myself even for thinking, much more -for writing the thought; and would blot out -the dissatisfied words, but that I promised you -should know truly, and without disguise, what -really passed in my mind.</p> - -<p>"After what I heard good Mr. Adams -preach last Sunday, how dare I wish to hurry -on time, when I make so poor a use of it? Indeed, -dear Albert, when I think seriously, I -do not wish it; but when I feel that we are -parted, and yield to that feeling, why then I -am a wayward creature. Does not this prove, -my dear Albert, how cautiously we ought to -look into our hearts, since out of them are the -issues of life? I will do so; I will try to do so, -if God will help me; for it is only by this -watching that I shall render myself at all -worthy of you. Mamma said to me the other -day:</p> - -<p>"'My dear love, remember that marriage -is a state necessarily imposing many duties, -and accumulating many cares; this in its happiest -instances must ever be the case; it is -wisely ordered that it should be so. But it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -a state honoured by God and man, and opens -upon a wide field for self-improvement. If -entered upon in this view, it brings with its -pains many delights and consolations, both for -this world and the next; but if it is engaged in -rashly, merely for the purpose of running a -more unchecked career, or for the unworthy -purposes of aggrandizement in rank and fortune -apart from nobler views, it never fails to -produce disappointment, and it may be, disgust -of life and endless misery.'</p> - -<p>"What a terrible picture, my Albert! But -I cannot conceive it possible that any body -should marry from any motive but attachment, -and therefore I can hardly persuade myself -that any of these awful consequences are likely -to attend on marriage; only my Bible shews -me the insufficiency of all mere mortal trusts; -and Mamma, I know, never says what she does -not think is true; therefore I must try and -prepare myself for becoming such a wife to -you as will secure our mutual felicity. The -little book we exchanged on the day you left -us, I read morning and evening, and as soon as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -it is finished I begin it again; so when you are -reading yours, you may be certain we are pronouncing -the same words, thinking the same -thoughts, lifting up our hearts together to the -God who made us.</p> - -<p>"How thankful we ought to be for good -books; are they not messengers from heaven? -And yet how we slight them. Often, when -engaged in my morning's duty of reading, my -wandering mind turns so frequently to drawing, -to music, or any other exercise, that at -length I have punished myself by determining -not to have recourse to these recreations till I -can moderate my ardour for them, and enjoy -them only as recreations; they <i>ought not</i> to be -more—all beyond is idolatry. I have of late, -too, engaged myself in active duties among the -poor around our neighbourhood; and my rides -to their different habitations give me such -additional health and spirits, that I am always -ready to laugh at all Mr. Foley's silly jokes. -My heart is so light, and I feel so happy—I -see no end to all the diverting things I have in -view, and some day or another when, please<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -God, I am really your wife, all the schemes I -form for the benefit of those within the circle -of my influence will be fully realized.</p> - -<p>"What an extended sphere of usefulness -will then be mine, and oh! my Albert! what -an awful responsibility too will then attach -to my situation! I pray daily that I may be -enabled to meet it as I ought. What I grudge -most is, the time which I am now frequently -forced to lose, in being civil to our dull -neighbours here; and I do confess that to sit -amused by Miss Grimsdale's side, while she -talks over the last county ball, or to listen to -old Lady Henniker's history of her ménage -with becoming patience, is a trial for which -no self-complacency in the idea, that I am -making a sacrifice to oblige others, does in any -degree compensate. But Mamma smiles when -she hears me answering <i>tout a rebours</i>, and sees -my fingers entangling the silks, and tells me -afterwards that we are not to live to ourselves, -and that in fact to please others, when not -neglecting, any positive duty, is a minor virtue. -I am sure she is right—but, dear Albert,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -I feel on such occasions how difficult it is to -be good! Mr. Foley, to whom I expressed -myself thus the other day, told me, 'I talked -a great deal of nonsense, though I was a -very charming person altogether,' and ended -by asking me seriously—'What wrong I -thought it possible I could do, living as I did?' -How ignorant he must be of the state of the -human heart, not to know that our best efforts -are faulty, our purest actions imperfect! I -stared at him, and then attempted to explain -to him that all our thoughts, words, and actions, -are marked with inherent error. He -stared at me in return, and, looking at me -incredulously, asked 'do you really mean what -you say?'</p> - -<p>"'Most assuredly,' I replied; 'can any one -mean otherwise?' Then he looked very grave -indeed, sighed heavily, and said, 'it was a -sad thing to see one so fair and young imbued -with such false ideas—ideas which in the end -would make me wretched.' I laughed, as I -assured him that it was he that was deceived, -and who would be wretched; that as for myself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -I was the gayest, happiest creature upon -earth; and all I had to dread was, loving the -world too well, and seeing it in too fair a -light. I had not a corner of my heart, I said, -unoccupied, or a minute in the day unemployed; -and besides that, my reliance upon -God made me feel as if I never could be -perfectly unhappy under any circumstances.</p> - -<p>"But no sooner were these words uttered, -than my heart smote me, for I thought of <i>you</i>, -dear Albert, and suddenly a cloud seemed to -pass over me, and my deceitful heart sickened -at the thought of the possibility of losing you; -and then I knew how ill I was prepared to -yield that perfect obedience which we are -called upon to yield to the will of heaven.—I -believe my countenance betrayed somewhat of -this self-condemning spirit, for Mr. Foley -quickly asked, whilst fixing his searching eyes -on mine, 'What, is there <i>nothing</i> which could -make you miserable?' and I trembled, and -blushed, and felt a tear of shame rise in my -eye, as I answered:</p> - -<p>"'Perhaps I deceive myself, and think of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -myself too highly. Perhaps—in short—at all -events, I know that I am <i>trying</i> so to feel, and -so to think.' He laughed contemptuously, -saying:</p> - -<p>"'I guessed how it was—poor Lady Adeline! -this false system is spreading fearfully indeed!' -What could he mean? Mamma told me on -my repeating to her this conversation, 'that to -many persons Mr. Foley would be a dangerous -man; but not to you, my child; and I have a -love for that wayward creature, the son of the -dearest friend I ever possessed, which makes -me incline to overlook his faults, and hope -that he will amend them. Who knows but -the mode of life we lead may be the means -of sowing some good seed in his heart? However, -my dear child, encourage not his conversation -on such points.' I believe Mamma -is right, for notwithstanding my dislike of his -irreligious tenets, he is so well-informed, and -so very diverting, that I cannot help being -entertained by him. And in many respects -I assure you, Albert, he is a good man, and -general report bespeaks him such. He is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -very charitable; is kind to people in distress; -and goes regularly to church, when he is with -us—is not all this very unaccountable with his -strange way of talking to me? I do not understand -it, and indeed it is not worth thinking -much about, one way or the other. Write -to me, dear Albert, and tell me what your -opinion is upon this subject. I wish in all -things to conform to your wishes, and to -model my opinion on yours: for I well know -your excellent principles and unerring judgment. -To-morrow, I allow myself to return -to the delight of copying your dear bust, '<i>O -che festa!</i>'—Sometimes (I am almost ashamed -of telling you) I divert myself with putting my -caps and hats on it, and please myself with -the idea that it is very like <i>me</i>—do not laugh -and call me 'foolish child!' Now I dislike -that <i>you</i> should call me child; remember the -day you receive this I shall be seventeen, so -put on all your gravity and consider me with -due respect.</p> - -<p>"The menagerie is thriving; I visit our -pets every day, and you will find them in fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -condition when you return,—when will that -be? I wish the time were come, don't you? -Good night, good night, for there is no end -to this writing. I must end. Again good night. -Dearest Albert, I am, heart and soul, your -own</p> - -<p style="text-align: right; margin-bottom: 1em;">"<span class="smcap">Adeline Seymour</span>."</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>"Sweet, pure Adeline!" cried Lord Albert, -"how shall I answer this letter." He -seized a pen, and in the first glow of fondness -and admiration, which such a letter and -such a portrait before him inspired, he filled -two pages, not less tender or sincere than -those which had been addressed to himself: -when he was suddenly disturbed by hearing a -bustle and violent clattering of horses in the -street, and at the same time the voices of some -of his own servants. This increasing, he rang -the bell to inquire the cause, and no one answering, -he at length opened the door of an -apartment and called to the porter, asking -what was the matter? He was answered, that -a carriage had been overturned opposite his -door, and it was wished to bring the lady who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -had suffered from the accident into his Lordship's -house.</p> - -<p>"By all means, immediately," Lord Albert -exclaimed; "afford every assistance possible;" -and in a few instants a lady was borne -in by two domestics. She was immediately -placed, apparently insensible, on a couch in -an adjoining apartment. The female attendants -were summoned to her aid, and Lord -Albert himself supported her head on his -breast: "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "it -is Lady Hamlet Vernon! Send off directly for -Doctor Meynell." A stream of blood flowed -over her face, and in order to ascertain where -she was wounded it was necessary to let down -her hair, which fell in glossy masses over her -neck and shoulders. The glass of the carriage -window, against which Lady Hamlet Vernon -had fallen, was the cause of the catastrophe; -and though the injury was not found -to be dangerous, the wound had been sufficiently -severe to occasion a suffusion of blood. -The physician soon arrived, and having examined -the extent of the evil, applied remedies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -and administered restoratives to the terrified -Lady Hamlet Vernon, who was shortly after -restored to her senses, and enabled to explain -the cause of her having met with so dangerous -an accident.</p> - -<p>"She was returning," she said, "from Sir -William Temple's dinner-party, when her -coachman, whom she supposed was intoxicated, -drove furiously, and the carriage coming in -contact with the curb-stone at the corner of the -street, overturned, was dashed with violence -against the pavement, and broken to pieces." -This account was corroborated by her footmen, -who had miraculously escaped unhurt. -Lady Hamlet then expressed her thanks at -having received such prompt and kind assistance, -and Doctor Meynell having pronounced -it as his opinion, that if she remained quiet -for a few days, she would find no disagreeable -effects result from the accident, and that she -might with safety be removed to her own -house, Lord Albert's carriage was ordered to -convey her thither. "I am happy, indeed, to -think it is thus," said Lord Albert; "and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -that I have been of the least use is most gratifying -to me."</p> - -<p>This adventure, related in a few words, -occupied an hour or more in its actual occurrence; -and Lord Albert had had leisure -to remark the symmetry of form and feature -for which Lady Hamlet Vernon had been so -long celebrated. He might have beheld Lady -Hamlet for ever, rouged and dressed in public, -and have passed her by unnoticed; but when -he beheld her pale, dishevelled, in pain, and -dependent on him at the moment for relief, -he thought her exquisitely fair, and there entered -a degree of romantic illusion in this accident -which roused his fancy, while her sufferings -touched the friendly feelings of his nature.</p> - -<p>As he assisted her to her carriage, they passed -through the room where he had been sitting -previous to her arrival; the candles were -still burning, and his papers lay in confusion -around, the writing-box was open, in the lid -of which was the portrait of Lady Adeline. -Lady Hamlet Vernon pausing, complained of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -a momentary feeling of faintness, and threw -herself on a chair close to the writing-table; -her eyes in an instant were rivetted on the -picture, and at the same moment Lord Albert's -hand closed it from her view. There -was nothing that demanded secrecy in his possessing -Lady Adeline's picture. His engagement -to his cousin was generally known, and -his having her portrait, therefore, was no offence -against propriety; but every body who -has loved will understand the feeling, that the -sacredness of their heart's affections is broken -in upon, if an indifferent or casual eye rest -upon a treasure of the kind. Lady Hamlet -Vernon spoke not, but her looks testified what -they had seen; while he remained confused, -and seemed glad when she proposed moving -again to the carriage.</p> - -<p>"I am afraid," she said, her voice trembling -as she spoke, "I am afraid my accident -has been the occasion of breaking in upon your -retirement, and disturbing you out of a most -delightful reverie. I shall regret this the more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -if it makes you hate me altogether—but the -fault was not mine."</p> - -<p>"Hate you! Lady Hamlet Vernon—hatred -and Lady Hamlet Vernon are two words that -cannot by any accident be connected together."</p> - -<p>"Ah! would that your words were as true -as they are courteous," she replied mournfully; -"but courtesies, alas! <i>imply</i> an interest that -they do not mean. Do not, however, let me -detain you, Lord Albert; it rains"— As he -still lingered at the door of the carriage, which -they had reached, and in which she now entered, -he added, "You will at least give me leave to -enquire for you to-morrow?" which was all -he had time to say, as the carriage was driven -rapidly away.</p> - -<p>Lord Albert returned to his room, with a -confusion of images chasing each other in such -quick succession through his mind, that though -he resumed his pen to finish his letter to Lady -Adeline, he found it difficult to do so; and he -was conscious that the few words which he -added were in such a different tone, and so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -little in keeping with the previous part, that -he finished abruptly, and, folding and sealing -his letter, closed the box that contained the -miniature, and throwing himself back in his -chair, mused in vacancy of thought till slumber -was overpowering him. Without once -adverting to Lady Adeline's book, he hastened -to lose in sleep the feeling of dissatisfaction -which had so suddenly possessed him.</p> - -<p>On the following morning, when Lady Hamlet -Vernon arose, feeling little of the accident -of the preceding evening, and having taken -particular pains with her toilette, she cast a -glance of complacency at her reflected image -in the mirror, and, descending to her boudoir, -placed herself on a sofa, spread with embroidered -cushions, folded a velvet <i>couvre-pied</i> over -her feet, ordered a table stored with books to -be placed within her reach, on which also -rested a guitar and a vase of flowers, and gave -way to a train of reflections and feelings unaccountably -called up by the occurrences of -the previous evening. Lady Hamlet Vernon -was a person who had read, and did read, at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -<i>times</i>; but in the present instance, when calling -for her books, she intended no farther use of -them beyond casual allusion to their contents, -and what their appearance might avail to give -an interest in regard to herself.</p> - -<p>She lay with her arm resting on a pillow, -and her ears attentively listening to every cabriolet -that passed, eagerly anticipating a visit -from Lord Albert. She twice looked at her -watch; once she struck it, to know if its sound -answered to the hour its hand designated.—"Surely," -she said, with some impatience, "he -must at least inquire for me?—and it is late—late -for a person of Lord Albert's early habit—it -is really three o'clock." At that moment -a short decided knock at the door roused her -attention. Her hand was on the bell in an -instant, lest the servants might deny her—but -in another the door opened, and <i>not</i> Lord -Albert, but the pale and melancholy Frank -Ombre entered. The revulsion from pleasure -to disappointment occasioned by the appearance -of this visitor, and which displayed itself -in Lady Hamlet Vernon's features, was ingeniously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -ascribed by her to a sudden pain in -her head, the consequence, she said, of her -accident the preceding night; which accident -she hastened to detail, and was gratified by the -homage of regrets, most poetically expressed -by Mr. Ombre, who remarked that the danger -of this occurrence was transferred from herself -to her admirers.</p> - -<p>"The beautiful languor which it has cast -over your person has produced a varied charm -more inimical to our peace than even the lightning -of your eyes. What a fortunate man that -Lord Albert was, to be on the very spot to -render you assistance! There are some persons, -as we all know, who are born felicitous—they -please without caring to please; they -render services without thinking what they -are doing, or even being interested in reality -about the persons whom they serve; they are -reckoned handsome without one regularly beautiful -feature, and pronounced clever, superior, -talented, without ever doing any thing to prove -it. But in that, perhaps, lies their wisdom—one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -may be <i>every thing</i> so long as one never -proves one's-self <i>nothing</i>."</p> - -<p>"True, there are such people in the world, -I believe; but do you really mean to say"—(and -she almost blushed.)</p> - -<p>"I never mean, or can mean, to say any -thing that is disagreeable to you"....</p> - -<p>"Oh, it is not I who am interested in what -he <i>is</i>, or is <i>not</i>; but, to confess the truth, a very -dear friend of mine, a charming young person, -takes an interest in him, and I should like to -know if he is worthy of that interest before her -affections are further engaged."</p> - -<p>"Ah! my dear Lady Hamlet Vernon," -replied Mr. Ombre, "there is nobody like you—I -always said so. You know <i>I never flatter</i>; -but you are so disinterested, always thinking -about other people, always so kindly busy -where you can be of any use; so unlike the -world in general, in short, that it quite spoils -one for living in it."</p> - -<p>"Well, this is a point we shall not dispute -about, my dear Mr. Ombre, only tell me what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -you know of Lord Albert D'Esterre? what are -his tastes, his habits, his pursuits, his politics?"</p> - -<p>"Of himself I can tell you little; with his -father I was very intimate long ago, and I -believe, somehow or other, people do always -contrive to be like either father or mother, -some time or another in their life. Of the -father I could tell you, that there did not exist -a more polished or high-bred man, a term -which you know is not always justly applicable -to persons of high rank; one very well versed -in literature too, at least for the peerage in that -day, and so long as he continued in public life, -no one acted more to the general satisfaction -of people than my Lord Tresyllian. Of the -mother there is little to say, except that she -was—nay is, for aught I know to the contrary—a -very good sort of person; who was never -known to make any noise, save once, in her -life, and that certainly was not on a judicious -occasion, for it was when the famous Bellina, -the dancer, was <i>attachée</i> to the suite of her -husband during his embassy at ——. Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -indeed Lady Tresyllian did make some very -unadvised stir, and contrived that the whole -court should remark upon the subject; but her -husband, who was the most polite man in the -world, as I have said before, represented to -her the inutility of such conduct, pointed out -how such a lady, and such a one, conducted -herself in similar situations; stated that these -sort of things always happened, and were only -unpleasant when they were injudiciously managed, -and in short the affair was amicably -adjusted; an affair which happened so long -ago, that it is only some old chroniclers like -myself who have any recollection of it.</p> - -<p>"After Lord Tresyllian's return to England, -he continued to fill several official situations as -long as his friends, or his party rather, as -those are called who contrive to hang together -for some interest,—their own or their country's, -it matters not—continued in office—and on their -retiring, his Lordship retired also: I suppose to -preserve his consistency, or because his talents -were not needed in the new arrangement. -Since then, gout and disappointed ambition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -have contributed to make him a recluse from -the busy world of fashion; and in the magnificence -of his princely fortune, and in the -society of a chosen few, who have shared his -fate, or depended on his interest in their -political career, his existence is now passed, -settling the balance of Europe in his closet, -opposing his Majesty's ministers (as long as -they shall not include his own party) in the -senate, and on every other occasion, and haranguing -every assembly of disappointed patriots -in his own county, of which he is lord lieutenant.</p> - -<p>"Of Lord Tresyllian's patriotism I presume -none doubt—of his judgment and good taste -in politics, from the last-mentioned fact, while -holding his present situation, perhaps there -may be some question. But he has considerable -parliamentary interest, and will therefore -always have some who will think all he says or -does right. His eldest son Osberton we all -know follows in his father's line of opposition; -glad, I dare say, to be saved the trouble of -acting or thinking for himself. I need not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -tell you more of him—in short, there is nothing -to tell, but his party. What Lord Albert -D'Esterre's will be, remains to be proved; I -mean in the only way people think a man's -being any thing is of consequence, namely the -part he will take in public life. He inherits -wealth from Lady Tresyllian, and so far will -be independent of his father; but he is too -young, I should think, to escape the toils that -will be laid for a young member, and therefore -we shall soon see him engaged on one side or -the other, as a tool of party. By the bye, what -says Lady Tilney of him for that?" Here -another knock announced another arrival, and -Mr. Ombre rose to depart.</p> - -<p>"Pray, my dear Mr. Ombre, do not run -away; I should be so delighted if you would -stay and help to keep the conversation alive, -I am too weak to do any thing but listen. -Indeed my poor head tells me that I ought not -to do that."</p> - -<p>"I would not stay a moment longer on any -account—not for the world," was Mr. Ombre's -reply, gently pressing her extended hand; "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -am sure I have talked too much already. Lord -Albert D'Esterre," (for it was he who entered), -"I request you will not be so agreeable as you -usually are, for our fair friend feels the effect -of her accident last night; and I am sure she -ought not to be amused, unless being put to -sleep be called amusement. If I were her nurse -I would prescribe a quieting draught and bed, -as to a tired child; and so I take my leave and -give my advice without any fee: it is always -the cheapest thing in the world you know;" -and he went away at the very proper moment, -having left behind him the character of being -the most agreeable man in the world.</p> - -<p>"I should have come sooner," said Lord -Albert, "to inquire for you, Lady Hamlet -Vernon, but I was afraid of being too early; -and I really put a restraint on my wishes in -not being at your door much sooner; for I was -very anxious to know you had not suffered -from the shock you received last night."</p> - -<p>"I have suffered, certainly," she replied, -blushing, "but not to any alarming degree; a -day or two of confinement to my sofa, and Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -Meynell assures me I shall be quite able to go -about again as usual. In the mean time, here -are my friends," pointing to the books, "who -are ever at hand to entertain me."</p> - -<p>"And surely," Lord D'Esterre replied, "there -are a thousand living friends also, alike ready -to endeavour to make the hours pass sweetly; -nevertheless, I honour those who can be independent -of society for entertainment."</p> - -<p>Lady Hamlet Vernon saw she had guessed -rightly, and went on to say, sighing as she -spoke, "The fact is, that London crowds are -not society, that the whole routine of a town life -unsatisfactory; and that every circumstance, -depending upon a mere pursuit of dissipation, -is in itself necessarily an alienation, for the time -at least in which we are engaged in it, from all -our higher and better enjoyments; but then -when one has lost all on whom one depended -for comfort, and support, and advice; when -one is left alone, a heart-broken thing upon -the wide world, misjudged by some, condemned -by many, flattered it may be by a few, -there is such a stormy ocean, such a desert -waste outspread to view, that the heart seeks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -refuge from the alternative in a multitude of -minor trifles, which leave no leisure to feel, still -less to reflect; and hurrying on from hour to -hour, one passes life away as chance directs."</p> - -<p>Lady Hamlet Vernon did not know to whom -she was speaking, or she would have spoken in -a very different tone. She had heard of refinement -and morality, she could even admire -both; but to religious principle she was a -stranger. She paused after having uttered the -last words, and, looking in Lord Albert's countenance -as she waited for a reply, read there a -varying expression, the meaning of which she -was at a loss to interpret. At last he spoke, and -said with deep earnestness, which failed not to -attract her attention, although she was not prepared -to understand the import of his words:</p> - -<p>"Is it possible! then I grieve for you indeed." -As he uttered this brief sentence he -took up a book, unconscious of what he was -doing; and opening the title-page, read "Tremaine." -Lady Hamlet Vernon had had recourse -to her salts, to her handkerchief; and -then, as if repressing her starting tears, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -asked, "What do you think of Tremaine?—is -it not charming?—Do you know I have -thought the hero was like you."</p> - -<p>"I hope not; I would not be like that man -on any account whatever."</p> - -<p>"No!—and why?"</p> - -<p>"Why, because I think false refinement -the most wretched of human possessions; and -all refinement is false which converts enjoyment -to pain; nay, I deny that it is refinement; -it is only the sophistry of a diseased -mind, the excrescence of a beautiful plant; -however, the work is a work of power, and its -intention pure, though I do not think it free -from danger. But tell me, Lady Hamlet Vernon—that -is, will you give me leave to ask you -a question?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly."</p> - -<p>"Did you ever read the third volume of -Tremaine attentively through?" She blushed -a genuine blush as she replied: "<i>Not quite</i>: -I am afraid—I thought it heavy."</p> - -<p>"You do not surprise me; the mind must -come tutored to the page to enjoy it as it ought -to be enjoyed; and perhaps the fault which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -might be found is precisely this, that those who -would be most likely to read it, are those who -would be least likely to benefit by its perusal."</p> - -<p>"You certainly converse, Lord Albert," said -Lady Hamlet Vernon, "very differently from -any person I ever conversed with; your ideas -are quite extraordinary to me, quite new, and -you have made me lose myself in a world of -thought; you make me feel that every thing I -have hitherto thought was all mistake; but you -must allow me to say, that, though willing to -become your pupil, I must be somewhat instructed -in this novel language before I feel -myself competent to reply."</p> - -<p>"What I said seems to me very simple; I -am not conscious of having expressed any abstruse -or recondite thoughts: at all events, I -certainly did not mean to be affected, still less -impertinent—it was something you said, which -startled me, and made me feel concern, and it -might seem to you, that I evinced it with too -much freedom—if I have erred, pardon me."</p> - -<p>"Pardon, my dear Lord! there is no question -about pardoning; but I am curious to -know what made you look so very grave when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -I said I wished to forget my existence, and -lose all sense of what had befallen me, or what -might befall me, in the busy idleness of life—do -you attach any very dreadful idea to this -declaration?"</p> - -<p>"A very dreadful one indeed," was his -reply.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, I do begin to believe that -what I heard of you was true—you are one of -the saints—I mean, one of the set of people -who go about preaching and praying all day -long. But then you frequent balls and assemblies, -and are so charming, I cannot reconcile -this idea with your air, appearance, and demeanour, -or with the character of those sour, -misanthropic beings: do explain to me this -mystery."</p> - -<p>"I wish I were one of those whom you so designate," -said Lord Albert D'Esterre gravely,—"but -indeed I am far from being so. All I -can say to explain my meaning briefly is, that I -have received a Christian and religious education, -and consequently that I think to live by -chance, and to let accident sway our actions, -is a perilous state of delusion."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What do you mean to say, Lord Albert, -that you regulate all your thoughts, words, -and actions, by some strictly self-drawn line of -rule?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lady Hamlet Vernon, you probe my -conscience, and I am thankful to you: no, -indeed, I have never yet been enabled so to -do—but I wish I could—not indeed by any -self-drawn line or rule, but that by which all -ought to guide themselves."</p> - -<p>"Well, at last I have met with one extraordinary -person, and this our conversation must -be resumed; but here comes some unwelcome -visitor, and for the moment the subject must -drop."</p> - -<p>The conversation was interrupted by the -announcement of Mr. Temple Vernon. He has -been already noticed as the object of Lady -Tilney's particular dislike from his independent, -and, as she termed it, rude freedom -of character, and he must have been unpopular -in a coterie where studied deportment -and total absence of all nature formed -a requisite merit for admission. But he -was nearly allied by marriage to Lady Hamlet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -Vernon, having inherited that portion -of her late husband, Lord Hamlet Vernon's -property, which was not bequeathed to herself. -He was first cousin of the late Lord also, and -Lady Hamlet Vernon's jointure being paid -from estates that devolved to him, she had -been condemned to keep up an intercourse -which, under existing circumstances of his -<i>mauvaise odeur</i>, in her particular circle, she -would gladly have dispensed with. She however -endeavoured to maintain that kind of -friendly intercourse with him, which would -prevent any thing like collision in matters -where her own interest was concerned, and -with this view preferred exposing herself to -harsh remarks from Lady Tilney and others of -the society, as to his admission into her house. -"Ah, Mr. Vernon, is it you," said Lady -Hamlet Vernon to him as he entered; "I -hope I see you well?"</p> - -<p>"Allow me rather to inquire, Lady Hamlet -Vernon, about yourself; I have made a <i>détour</i> of -at least two miles to satisfy my anxiety concerning -you all. London is ringing with the -terrible accident which befel you last night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -Pray tell me all the particulars, and tell me -too who was the fortunate knight-errant that -rendered you assistance?" Lady Hamlet made -an inclination of her head towards Lord Albert -D'Esterre.</p> - -<p>"Ah! is it so? well, he looks as if he -were made for adventures," directing his glance -towards Lord Albert. "Now, though I, poor -devil that I am, desire no happier chance, I -may drive about all day or night and no such -good fortune ever betide me as delivering a -lady from a perilous accident—really, Lord -Albert, I congratulate you." Lord Albert bowed, -as he replied,</p> - -<p>"I am exceedingly happy that my servants -were of any use; but indeed I had not the -good fortune you ascribe to me: for I was sitting -occupied in my library, and wholly unconscious -of what passed in the street, till Lady -Hamlet Vernon was brought into the house."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, is it so? well, I have heard it said -through the whole town, that Lady Hamlet -Vernon's horses ran away, that the coachman -was dashed from his box, and that some <i>preux<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -chevalier</i> had seized the horses in their course, -and though nearly annihilated himself, had -succeeded in his desperate efforts to stop them; -whereas I am happy to see my Lord is safe and -sound. Lady Hamlet, I rejoice to find very -little the worse, and the long paragraph in -the Morning Post all a lie. Well, there is -only one thing to be done under these circumstances, -which is to set the story right by a -counter-statement, and therefore pray do tell -me all the particulars."</p> - -<p>Lady Hamlet Vernon smiled, with constrained -complacency, saying, "you may tell the fact, -Mr. Vernon, if you chuse to take the trouble, -which is simply this;—that on returning home -my coachman was drunk, and upset my carriage; -and the accident happened close to Lord -Albert D'Esterre's door, so that I was borne -into his house, and received there every kind -attention."</p> - -<p>"But," enquired Mr. Temple Vernon, who -had listened with evident eagerness to the -recital, "where were you going?—whence -were you coming?—for all these particulars -are of importance."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh! home."</p> - -<p>"Good heavens, home! and at the early -hour of twelve?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"But where were you coming from?"</p> - -<p>"Oh! we had been dining at Sir William -Temple's."</p> - -<p>"Ah, and is that really so? was all that -Temple said at the clubs yesterday morning -really true? Did you, and the Tilney, -and the Leinsengen, and I don't know who -else, dine with him? Well, that is really too -good—why no room in London will hold -Temple after this. He was always insufferable, -even before he was promoted in the -world; and now that affairs have taken this -favourable turn, heaven knows what he will -become; why he'll burst like the frog in the -fable. But I am very sorry, for his dinners -were good dinners in their way; now, however, -they will be intolerable, for they will consist -in every course of <i>réchauffés</i> of what Lady -Tilney admired, or did, or said—do tell me -how the affair went off."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, Mr. Temple Vernon, I cannot talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -more to-day; rather I pray you tell me some -news—how did the D'Hermanton's party end?"</p> - -<p>"Well then, if you so command it, let -us turn to my note book"—affecting to read, -as he counted over his fingers, "Lady Tilney -was <i>not</i> at the Duchess of D'Hermanton's; -Lady Ellersby <i>was</i>, but only walked through -the apartments; Lady Boileau went no further -than the first room; item, Mr. Pierpoint -did not either; neither did Comtesse -Leinsengen, who sat all the evening -by Lord Baskerville, but spoke little; the -Duke of Mercington only shewed his waistcoat, -and then departed: all of which I hold to -be signs that portend dark doings in the court -of Denmark. Now this I think is a correct <i>résume</i> -of the Hermanton 'at home.' As to the -politics of the last evening, it is confidently -stated that the Duke of —— has some famous -bird-lime, called expediency, which will catch a -vast number of young birds," turning at the -same time to Lord Albert, "is it not so, my -Lord?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Temple Vernon seems so perfectly -master of every body's intentions and affairs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -that I scarcely know, in his presence, whether -or not I am master of my own."</p> - -<p>"The fact is, my good Lord, that nobody -knows what they are going to do (if they will -only confess the truth) for two minutes together."</p> - -<p>"In one sense that is true enough, Mr. -Temple Vernon, for we intend many things -which we never do, and <i>vice versâ</i>; nevertheless -our will is free, and fortunately not always -under the direction of others to guide it for us."</p> - -<p>"Oh! this is becoming too deep for me," interrupted -Lady Hamlet Vernon.</p> - -<p>"And for me too," replied Mr. Temple Vernon, -"as I have a thousand things to do before -seven, and it is now past four o'clock; however -I leave Lady Hamlet Vernon with less regret, -knowing she has so entertaining a companion -as Lord D'Esterre." This was said very ironically, -and as the latter quickly perceived all the -monkey malice of the man, he disarmed it of -its sting by rising to depart, saying:</p> - -<p>"Lady Hamlet Vernon has far more entertaining -companions lying on her table, than -are generally to be met with among London<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -idlers; and not to prove myself one of these, I -must make my bow without further delay, -trusting soon to have the pleasure of seeing -her once more, in the gay scenes in which she -is so fair an ornament;" and again bowing to -Mr. Temple Vernon, he departed before the -latter could leave the room.</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear Lady, you owe me something, -I am sure, for having rid you from the -presence of that formal personage." Lady -Hamlet Vernon did not look as if she agreed -with him, but forced a smile as she replied:</p> - -<p>"I like variety in character and manners; -the world would grow dull, if every one were -cut out on the same pattern."</p> - -<p>"I am glad to hear you say that, my dear -Lady Hamlet Vernon, for that is exactly what -I think; and, therefore, I have always held off -from the tyranny, which goes to make every -body subscribe to the same code in manners, -dress, hours, nay even language; and at least, -my coat, my neckcloth, my hair, is all after a -cut of my own, and I find all does vastly well; -for if the world does not approve the one or like -the other, they are at least afraid of me, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -I think for myself. This answers my -purpose precisely as well. But you look serious, -I see, and therefore I will follow my -Lord Albert D'Esterre's inimitable example, -and leaving my last sentence in the tablets of -your memory, farewell, most fair and fascinating -lady. One word more I beg to add, -remember that I wish exceedingly to go to -Lady Tilney's next Friday, and I leave my -wish in the hands of the kindest and fairest of -the daughters of Eve. I <i>depend</i> upon your managing -it for me."</p> - -<p>"Oh! certainly, nothing is easier you know, -you are always <i>le bien venu</i>, I wonder that you -can make this request a favour."</p> - -<p>"Ah! all that is very well from your lips, -but you know, although I am the most admired -man about town, I am sometimes by some -chance forgotten. It is very odd that it should -be so, but nevertheless it is often unjustly the -case; and I correct fortune by such applications -as the one I have just made to you; and now -<i>je vous baise les mains</i> in the D'Esterre phraseology, -though I would much rather do so in -reality, and so farewell most fair."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Depend upon me," replied Lady Hamlet -Vernon, kissing her hand to him as he left the -room. "Depend upon my hating you most -cordially," she said to herself; as her head -sank on the pillow of her sofa, and she tried -to shut out from her recollection all his ill-timed -<i>bavardage</i>, and to recal the strange but -eloquent converse of the interesting Lord -D'Esterre.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER IX.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">THE PRIMA SERA; LETTERS, SNARES.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Lady</span> Hamlet Vernon, in consequence of -her recent accident, received society at home -instead of seeking it abroad; and for several -evenings the <i>élite</i> of <i>ton</i>, passed their <i>prima -sera</i> at her house. Lord Albert D'Esterre was -constant too in his attendance there, and was -evidently much occupied with Lady Hamlet -Vernon. His attentions did not escape remark, -and though Lady Tilney's object, in -wishing to possess an influence over Lord Albert, -was quite of another nature, still she felt -some disappointment at finding he was interested -in another quarter, and therefore less -likely to yield to the designs which she had -formed upon his political independence.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you how that matter stands," replied -Lord Rainham, as she inquired his -opinion on the subject, "the <i>love</i> is at present -entirely on the lady's side; Lord Albert is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -at all captive, and he has such obsolete ways of -thinking, that I imagine he will not be easily -caught. I should recommend his being given -up altogether, he will never play a part among -us, depend upon that; and you will not find -him worth the trouble of educating."</p> - -<p>"Oh! as to playing a part, my dear Lord, -one does not want every body to play a part, -at least not a <i>first</i> part you know; and as for -<i>educating</i> them, that is quite out of the question."</p> - -<p>"But," rejoined Lord Rainham, "you forget -there is such a thing as persuasion; and it is -said D'Esterre took his seat on the side of -ministers by some means of that sort. Now it -is possible, that although no <i>liaison de cœur</i> -exists between him and Lady Hamlet Vernon, -yet as a clever woman, she may have decided -his vacillating judgment; to say the truth, I -believe she has." Lady Tilney bit her lip, -and something like the word provoking, escaped -her, as she replied, "I would scorn to -persuade any body to any thing against his -will; there is nothing I have ever maintained -more strenuously, than that every individual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -should have a free choice in all the different -elections of life." Lord Rainham smiled. -"But after all," she added with an affected indifference, -by which she attempted ineffectually -to conceal her mortification, "it is of -very little importance which side Lord Albert -has taken."</p> - -<p>"One would have thought so indeed but -for the disappointment which is evident since -he has declared himself," replied Lord Rainham, -drily.</p> - -<p>However much Lady Tilney felt chagrined -at the thought that another had succeeded in -turning Lord Albert's mind in a direction -contrary to her wishes, yet she was too politic -to betray her disappointment to the person -who had triumphed; and therefore, on the -evening in question, she paid more than usual -attention to Lady Hamlet Vernon.</p> - -<p>"Dear Lady Hamlet Vernon," said Lady -Tilney addressing her, as she took a seat by -her, "you must not pretend to be ill any longer, -we positively cannot do without you;" and -then turning to Comtesse Leinsengen, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -added, "did you ever see any thing to equal -the beauty of her fairy foot?"</p> - -<p>This was a sore subject, as the reverse of the -proposition always suggested itself to the Comtesse's -fancy, in respect of her own; and she -pretended on the present occasion not to hear -it, but tossing up her head, took Lady Baskerville's -arm, who was sitting on the other side -of her, and whispered in her ear, "Lady Tilney -does take such <i>engouements</i>, and then is as -quickly tired of them, <i>des feus de pailles</i>," shrugging -her shoulders contemptuously; "but I -wonder she <i>like</i> to dat old story of her -admiration for feet, when she made herself so -very ridiculous in her affected praises of dat -<i>soi-disant</i> princesse. De lady who professes -to worship liberty, independence, and all dat -sort of ting, to sit holding anoder woman's foot -upon her knee, and making all dat sort of fuss, -for my part, <i>je n'ai jamais pu conçevoir ce plaisir -là</i>."</p> - -<p>"It does seem to me rather extraordinary," -replied Lady Baskerville; "but then -Lady Tilney is so very good-humoured, she -always protects every body she thinks put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -down or in distress." This was a prudent -answer on Lady Baskerville's part, but not well -received, which on perceiving, she quickly -added:</p> - -<p>"As to myself, I confess I do not take -any pleasure in those sort of out-of-the-way -admirations; I can admire beauty in other -women; but I cannot affect to be so exceedingly -enchanted by it as to turn <i>fille de chambre</i> -in its honour. But there are many things in -the world vastly ridiculous; for instance, can -any thing be more so in its way than that -Duke and Duchess D'Hermanton, who have -been married I don't know how long, and are -still <i>aux premiers amours</i>; one sees them eternally -dawdling about together, as if persons came -into company to be always setting a pattern of -conjugal felicity. It is pardonable, perhaps, -for very young people, during a few months to -fancy themselves vastly in love; but after -that time it is sickening—don't you think so, -Comtesse?"</p> - -<p>"Oui, vraiment; <i>au reste</i> it is only in dis -country that people do give themselves such -<i>ridicule</i>, and to say truth, not often, even here."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But pardon me, Comtesse," said Lady -Baskerville, withdrawing from her; "I must -go away, for I see Lord Boileau waiting for me, -whom I had promised to take to Almack's, and -had nearly forgotten;" so saying she passed into -an adjoining room, and addressing him said:</p> - -<p>"Lord Boileau we are very late, and if we -do not make haste we shall be shut out."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no—all <i>that</i> is left out of the evening's -entertainment, I can assure you, for they begin -to be afraid that nobody will go in, though -the doors are left wide open all night."</p> - -<p>"I am not surprised, for I hate the whole -thing, and think it is become quite detestable, -only I promised Lady Aveling to go to-night, -so if you are ready let us begone;—but I have -not made my curtsey to Lady Hamlet."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, Lady Baskerville, you may spare -yourself that trouble, if you mean to be agreeable, -for do you not see she is enamoured <i>pardessus -les yeux</i> with <i>that</i> Lord Albert D'Esterre."</p> - -<p>"Ah," rejoined Lady Baskerville, looking in -the direction where they sat, "is it so? Well, -every one has her taste; but I cannot say such -a person would ever touch my heart."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh! <i>your</i> heart we all know is assailable -but <i>by one</i>, and that Baskerville is the man, the -most to be envied in all the world; to be sure -there never was <i>such</i> a wife as you are, quite -perfect, Lady Baskerville, only too perfect." -Lady Baskerville cast back her head, and looking -at Lord Boileau with one of her <i>intelligent</i> -smiles, they passed on, and stepping into the -carriage, drove off to finish their evening -amusements in the insipid glitter of an Almack's -ball.</p> - -<p>After the lapse of some weeks Lady Hamlet -Vernon was completely restored to health and -beauty, and again resumed her usual routine -of existence. She sought dissipation at all -times eagerly, from habit; but now there was -added to this impulse a restlessness of feeling, -an anxiety if alone, and a void in her heart, -from the evening in which her accident happened, -such as she had never before experienced. -It was in vain for her to conceal -from herself, that she had perhaps <i>hitherto</i> unconsciously -courted the society of Lord Albert -D'Esterre more than of any other person, without -considering how far she was yielding to the gratification<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -consistently with any probable chance -of happiness to herself in the ultimate issue. -She certainly had a decided preference for Lord -Albert D'Esterre, or why did she seek every -opportunity of seeing him; or why feel uneasy -when she heard of his acknowledged -affiance to another? These feelings prompted -her to know more of the appearance and character -of his intended bride, whom circumstances -had as yet prevented from appearing -in the great world of London, and to whom -she was an utter stranger.</p> - -<p>Under this influence, she determined to -address a letter to one with whom she was -in the habit of corresponding, and whom she -knew to be on a visit to Dunmelraise, the -seat of Lady Adeline's mother. She felt confident -that she might take this step without compromising -herself, and without her inquiries -being deemed strange, or indicative of any thing -beyond a natural curiosity. Shortly after this -letter had been written, the following reply -came from her friend, Mr. G. Foley; the contents -of which were not at all calculated to -tranquillize Lady Hamlet Vernon's feelings,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -if she really had any affection for Lord Albert.</p> - - -<p class="center"><i>Letter from Mr. Foley to Lady Hamlet Vernon.</i></p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"When one is not to write of that which -one is thinking about, it is the most difficult -thing in the world to write at all. But you -command, and I must endeavour to obey. -Let me see how am I to commence? Perhaps -it is best that I do so by giving you -<i>the history</i>, as one young lady writing to another -would say, of the Lady Adeline Seymour. -You know that Lady Dunmelraise, her mother, -lost her husband and an only son soon after -Lady Adeline's birth; she then fell into low -spirits and bad health, but by degrees roused -herself to live for this child; and I must do -her the justice to say, she has fulfilled her task -admirably.</p> - -<p>"As to personal appearance, Lady Adeline -Seymour is of that height which just escapes -being too tall; of that slimness which just -escapes being too thin; of that untutored manner -which is often nearly being <i>gauche</i>, were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -it not that it is accompanied by a childish grace -which evades the charge. Quick of perception, -and quicker still in feeling, she has a -peculiar way of checking these impulses so as -never to allow them to betray her into any -unbecoming harshness or abruptness of manner; -the very fear one entertains that she may -overstep the boundary of polished <i>rétenu</i> gives -an additional zest to her, but <i>gare a ceux qui -voudroit l'imiter</i>—for she is perfectly original -and defies all copyists. As to her face it is not -marvellously beautiful, still less regularly so, -but it is of such love-like paleness, chased by -such sunny gleams of joyous youth continually -playing over her features, that one could -not wish it changed even for a more regular -beauty. She is the very model of the poet's -dream when he wrote—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">----'Her pure and eloquent blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That one would almost say her body thought.'<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"Thus much for Lady Adeline's appearance -and manners. In regard to the acquirements -and endowments of her mental being, I am -perhaps not myself qualified to speak—she is -not precisely what the laborious educating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -mammas would call accomplished, but she has -a master genius for <i>one</i> art and a love for -all. Her musical talent certainly requires much -instruction to bring it to any perfection, but -the scraps of airs she warbles as she flies about -the house, are in the best taste as far as they -go—and a few Venetian ballads which she sings -to her guitar, and which she says her cousin -taught her, are quite inebriating.</p> - -<p>"She unfeignedly undervalues all she does; -perhaps too much so; but you read in her -countenance that she is perfectly sincere; that -all <i>spoken</i> praise distresses her; and you are -involuntarily led to seek to give her homage -in some more palatable shape.</p> - -<p>"What do you think of this portrait of the -young Adeline? It looks like that of a heroine -in romance, as I glance my eyes over the -words, and yet I have such a nausea at all the -persons bearing that designation, that I would -fain save the delightful one of whom I am -writing from that hacknied name. You must -have heard, of course, that she is engaged to -her cousin Lord Albert D'Esterre; but like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -all those engagements made for people when -they are children, I do not think it will be -fulfilled <i>con amore</i>—not but what she blushes -whenever she speaks of him, and <i>that</i> she does -pretty frequently; and if he is grown up like -a certain bust (for I have not seen him these -three years, and boys change so from eighteen -to one and twenty), he really must be <i>un bel -Giovane</i>. By the way, she has made an exquisite -drawing of <i>mon beau cousin</i>, but that is -neither here nor there, the fiction of seventeen -is always beautiful. Pray in your next gracious -letter inform me what sort of man he -has become, for I feel a brotherly regard for -this very nice person, Lady Adeline Seymour, -and should like to think she had a chance of -happiness. Happiness, what a sound! but the -reality, where is it?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">'Come L'Araba Fenicè<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Che ci sia, ciascun lo dicè<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Dove sia, nessun lo sà.'<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"I should have told you, by the bye, that -with all the gaiety, which is one of her greatest -charms, Lady Adeline has a tincture of seriousness -mingled with it, which some might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -suppose approached to Methodism; but even -if it is so, <i>à son age elle en guérira</i>.</p> - -<p>"I have been a long time here: but it has -been a great gratification to me, and time -has glided softly by; for in addition to the -charms of the daughter, Lady Dunmelraise -is in all respects a very agreeable and sensible -woman, has seen a great deal of the world, -and besides all that, honours your humble -servant with her very particular regard; which -she tells me is bestowed entirely for the sake -of my mother, the friend whom she loved -most in the world next to her own family; -but I am vain enough to flatter myself that -she likes me a little for mine own sake too. -And you, who understand every thing <i>à demi -mot</i>, will know how soothing it is to a sick -heart to receive kindness; this has induced -me hitherto to linger on from day to day; -but I shall vary the scene soon, for I begin to -think that even I may be <i>de trop</i>; for I hear -frequent mention made of Lord Albert D'Esterre's -expected arrival; so to-morrow I set -off for Luryddicath Park. Lord Tresyllian's; -who, you know, is father to Lord Albert.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And now, my dear Lady Hamlet Vernon, -having given you the particulars you required, -I will not weary you with more of myself: -but in pity to me, seeing that I am still for a -time cut off from that only tolerable place in -England, London, do write me a brief, gracious -missive, that I may feast upon it till I -am once more restored to your presence, and -in the mean while believe me to be the most -devoted of your slaves. Can I say more?</p> - -<p style="text-align: right; margin-bottom: 1em;">"<span class="smcap">G. Foley.</span>"</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Lady Hamlet Vernon, after perusing this -letter, fell into a deep train of reflection, if -such can be called intense feeling usurping -the mind, to the exclusion of every other idea. -The image of Lady Adeline, thus vividly pourtrayed -by Mr. Foley's pen, stood in actual presence -before her; and combined with that -image, rose the vision of Lord Albert D'Esterre. -The happiness which would be the -growth of an union between two such persons -as her knowledge of the one, and her fancied -knowledge of the other, represented them, was -embodied with forcible reality, and tears coursed -each other involuntarily down her cheeks as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -she sat, more like a marble image than a living -being.</p> - -<p>From this state she was suddenly roused by -the servants announcing Lord Albert D'Esterre -himself; and making an effort to subdue -the feeling which either she was too much -ashamed, or too proud to own, she endeavoured -to receive him with as much composure as -she could assume. After the first words of -course had passed, Lady Hamlet Vernon was -too deeply absorbed in one subject for her -readily to turn to any indifferent topic; and she -at length addressed Lord Albert on the subject -of her solicitude, saying, "Do you know I have -received a letter this morning full of the praises -of a person, in whom I believe you are much -interested; it is from a friend of mine now -staying at Dunmelraise, and who draws such -a picture of the charms of Lady Adeline Seymour, -that I wonder, Lord Albert, to see you -here—but you are going to Dunmelraise, are -you not, immediately?" Her tears almost -flowed afresh as she pronounced these words; -and unconsciously she cast a look of tender -intreaty on Lord Albert. The latter had involuntarily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -started, coloured, and hesitated to -reply to this unexpected question; at length -he answered:</p> - -<p>"No, not immediately; I am unable to -leave town yet."</p> - -<p>"You are not in love," Lady Hamlet Vernon -exclaimed, "no, you are <i>not</i> in love with -Lady Adeline Seymour—I read your heart in -the measured calmness of your words; she is -<i>not</i> the mistress of your affections."</p> - -<p>The sentence seemed to have escaped Lady -Hamlet Vernon's lips without the power of -control, in a moment of excitement; and her -eyes, which had been fixed on Lord Albert, -now as suddenly fell beneath his gaze as he -exclaimed with astonishment,</p> - -<p>"What can you mean, what <i>do</i> you mean, -Lady Hamlet Vernon?" At that moment -Lady Tilney was announced, and a minute -after Lord Gascoigne. Conversation became -general; but Lord Albert, evidently labouring -under some painful feeling, took no part in -it. Still he seemed determined to remain, to -await the departure of the others, when Lady -Tilney proposed to Lady Hamlet Vernon to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -accompany her to the Park; and the latter, -fearing that she had compromised herself in -the too open expression of her feelings relative -to Lord Albert and Lady Adeline Seymour, -availed herself of the opportunity to avoid -any renewal of the theme. With a heart -ill at ease, she prepared to attend Lady -Tilney to the dazzling throng of Hyde Park; -while Lord Albert, seeing it was vain to look -for any explanation of Lady Hamlet Vernon's -extraordinary address to him at the moment, -reluctantly handed her to Lady Tilney's carriage; -and, trusting to some future opportunity -to ask an explanation, he mounted his horse -and rode off; but not with a mind so tranquil -or a heart so buoyant as he had possessed a -short time before.</p> - -<p>In proposing to take Lady Hamlet Vernon -to the Park, Lady Tilney's real object was to -withdraw her from Lord Albert, whose anxiety -had not escaped her observation, and whose -political career she still had hopes might not -be positively decided; at any rate, if hope -remained, it was worth the trial; and should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -she have been correct in her idea that Lord -Albert had not committed himself irrevocably, -no time was to be lost; that very moment perhaps -he waited only the voice of Lady Hamlet's -influence, to decide his wavering intentions. -Lady Tilney's part was therefore quickly -taken; and as they proceeded to the Park, she -endeavoured to turn Lady Hamlet Vernon's -mind from Lord Albert, if he really occupied -any share in it, by adverting to every topic of -the day; among other things she said:</p> - -<p>"What do you think! Miss Melcomb's -marriage with Lord Glenmore is at length declared. -I had long had my suspicions that it -would be so; but I cannot say I approve of -the affair; and I am sure you will think with -me, Lord Glenmore is too great a card to be -played by that little miss, who has never left -her mamma's wing; and has, of course, imbibed -all her prejudices. But although Lord -Glenmore has allied himself with this family, -we must not wholly give him up; besides the -Georgina is pretty, and she may yet not prove -quite such a simpleton as she looks." Lady Tilney, -however, in vain endeavoured to interest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -Lady Hamlet Vernon in any subject she discussed; -the former acquiesced in every thing -her companion said, in order to avoid the argument -which would have followed any dissent -from her opinion. Lady Hamlet Vernon's -remarks, when she made any, were short, and -little to the purpose; and at length, wearied -and ill at ease, she complained of a head-ache, -and besought Lady Tilney to set her down at -home.</p> - -<p>When the carriage-door closed, Lady Tilney -flung herself back, exclaiming as she drew -up the glass, "How provokingly discreet, she -did not once commit herself!" and Lady Tilney -drove once more back to the Park, in the hope -of seeing Lord Albert; and if possible, by courting -his attention, of counteracting any influence -which might have been exercised on his opinion -by Lady Hamlet Vernon. She looked, -however, in vain for him in the crowd; and at -length drove home, disappointed and displeased -at her want of success, and out of humour with -every thing.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER X.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">FASHIONABLE FRIENDSHIP.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Lord</span> Glenmore's marriage soon became the -subject of general conversation. The day of -the nuptials was already named, and the ceremony -was to be in the most splendid style. -In compliment to Lord Glenmore, several of -his acquaintance were invited. Amongst these -was Lady Tilney and Lady Tenderden; the -Comtesse Leinsengen of course; and Lady -Ellersby, who on her mother's side was related -to the family of the Melcombs. The parties -named expressed themselves annoyed at the -idea of forming part of what they called the -<i>Melcomb mélange</i>; but a secret wish to retain -an influence with Lord Glenmore, whose marriage -it was intended should not, without a -trial of Miss Melcomb's aptitude for <i>ton</i>, -banish him from their circle.</p> - -<p>The whole affair, however, was <i>sotto sugezione</i> -in the opinion of Lady Tilney and her friends.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -"The strangest thing of all is," exclaimed the -former, as she was conversing on the subject -with Lady Tenderden and the Comtesse Leinsengen, -"that the marriage takes place in -church."</p> - -<p>"In church! <i>quelle idée, vraiment on mourra -de froid</i>."</p> - -<p>"And pray how must one be dressed?" inquired -Lady Tenderden.</p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>en costume de traineau</i>, I presume, -since it is in von of your cold church; but vat -sinifies how von dresses for it?"</p> - -<p>"If it rains I really must send my excuse," -said Lady Tilney, who wanted to be on a level -at least with the Comtesse in impertinence. -"Have you seen the <i>trousseau</i>?" she added.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have," replied Lady Tenderden. -Lady Tilney looked blank; she could not bear -that others should precede her even in the -inspection of a <i>trousseau</i>. Lady Tenderden, -continued:—"Madame Duval brought me -every thing that was worth seeing; the laces -are magnificent, and the <i>corbeille de noces</i>, and -every thing is in good taste. But here is Lady -Ellersby," exclaimed Lady Tenderden, glad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -to break off from a subject which had been disagreeable -to her, "I do not suppose <i>she</i> will -approve of the programme of this ceremony."</p> - -<p>"My dear Lady Ellersby," the ladies all -exclaimed, running up to her, "why did you -not exert your influence with Lady Melcomb -to prevent this <i>baroque</i> fancy of being married -in church; surely your relationship would -have authorized your good advice on the occasion." -Lady Ellersby looked surprised, and -asked an explanation.</p> - -<p>"Do you not know," answered Lady Tilney, -"that the ceremony is to take place in a -church?"</p> - -<p>"La! does it? What a strange fancy!" -drawled Lady Ellersby; "but I should never -think of giving any advice to Lady Melcomb—I -never do, to any body."</p> - -<p>"Dat Mademoiselle Melcomb, vid all her -imbecile <i>niaiserie</i>, seems not to have played her -part amiss."</p> - -<p>"I think she will turn out better than one -could have supposed," rejoined Lady Tenderden, -"when she becomes <i>un peu plus façonné</i>."</p> - -<p>"Do tell me who are the invited?" interrupted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -Lady Tilney, addressing Lady Ellersby.</p> - -<p>"Oh, half London, to be sure; such a quantity -of tiresome relations, and so much property, -and family dignity, there will be no -end of all the cousins—don't you know they -are just the sort of people who teem with relations?"</p> - -<p>"But who is there of the party that one -knows?" replied Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Oh, there are ourselves, and the Duke of -Mercington, and the Boileaus, and Baskervilles, -I believe; I fancy too the Duke and Duchess -D'Hermanton, and some of <i>that</i> set, are also -among the <i>priés</i>, but I must go now <i>en qualité de -cousine</i>, and leave my card with the Melcombs, -and then I shall go on to Kitchener's, who has -the resetting of the family diamonds. I am -told they are magnificent; and I should so like -to persuade Lord Ellersby to let mine be reset -too, I have had them three years in their present -form, and am so tired of them as they are—he, -he, he!—well—adieu, we shall meet to-night -at Lady De Chere's?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Avouez moi qu'elle passe la permission qu'ou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -a d'être bête</i>," observed Lady Tenderden, as she -left the room.</p> - -<p>"May be so, but she is a very old friend of -mine, and besides, she is perfectly <i>comme il -faut</i>, and after all, that sort of thing gets -on in the world just as well as talent."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps better," rejoined Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"<i>Précisement</i>," said the Comtesse Leinsengen, -"but, <i>il faut que je pars, je vais voir le -trousseau</i>, for oderwise I shall have nothing to -say to Lady Baskerville, who goes vid me to-night -to de Opera. <i>Adieu les belles, adieu.</i>"</p> - -<p>"I wonder how she can be at the trouble of -going to see that foolish <i>trousseau</i>," exclaimed -Lady Tilney, as soon as she was out of hearing. -"She is so <i>inconséquente</i>. Did Lady Ellersby -name the Baskervilles as being among the invited?" -continued Lady Tilney.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, the Comtesse, depend upon it, has -taken care they shall be asked; and my Lord -is always flattered in being reckoned a requisite -appendage to a woman of high rank; but he will -soon find his error in depending on her smiles, -for except for the gratification of the moment's -vanity, she seeks no further aim, and at all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -times scruples not to sacrifice her <i>çi-devant</i> -friends to her new ones."</p> - -<p>"Poor Lord Baskerville," replied Lady -Tilney, "was intended to be by nature <i>le bon -enfant</i>, which she calls him; but he has fallen -into the terrible mistake of thinking himself a -<i>leader</i> of <i>ton</i>, which gives him a ridicule that -he would not otherwise have."</p> - -<p>"How well you read characters, my dear -Lady Tilney! But I thought he was a <i>protégé</i> -of yours."</p> - -<p>"Oh, so he is; I like him of all things; -and he is often vastly useful. One must have -different characters at command to fill different -parts, or else nothing that one wants would go -on. But to return to the Melcombs, I do not recover -from my surprise about that marriage."</p> - -<p>"It only shews what perseverance will do, -I wished to talk the matter over with you, and -to ascertain whether or not you meant to attend; -so now I need not trouble you longer. -Your gown you say is to be rose-colour, mine -shall be jonquille."</p> - -<p>"Ah, you always look divine in that golden -light: but what light do you not look divine in?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I must positively run away, or you will -quite turn my head with flattery. Adieu, -adieu," and they parted well pleased with each -other.</p> - -<p>When Lady Ellersby stopped at Lady Melcomb's -door, where she had intended only to -leave her card, a multiplicity of people on the -same errand <i>faisoit queue à la porte</i>; but to her -infinite dismay, just as her carriage drove up, -Lord Glenmore, who happened to be coming -out of the door, approached her with a countenance -beaming happiness.</p> - -<p>"I am sure Georgina will be at home to -<i>you</i>; do allow me to hand you out of your -carriage."</p> - -<p>"Not for the world, I would not intrude; I -am sure Miss Melcomb has a thousand things -to do, and to arrange; but—"</p> - -<p>"Nay, dear Lady Ellersby," continued Lord -Glenmore, pressingly (who thought every one -must be as anxious to see his bride, as he was -eager she should be seen), "Georgina will be -so disappointed if you do not go up stairs, that -I must entreat you will." And in short, for -once, what between curiosity to look at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -bridal paraphernalia, and a sort of awkwardness -to do a decided thing, and say no, Lady -Ellersby's indolence was overcome, and she -allowed herself to be handed up stairs into the -drawing room, where were assembled a host of -ladies (<i>not</i> Miss Melcomb), who were busily -engaged admiring the various dresses and -finery which were displayed before them.</p> - -<p>"You are just come in time, Lady Ellersby," -exclaimed Lady Aveling, "for after to-day, -nobody is to be admitted."</p> - -<p>"No? well, la! I am glad then; but my dear -Lady Melcomb I came, I assure you, expressly -to wish you joy, and to leave my congratulations -also with Miss Melcomb, whom I hope, I am -to see, for Lord Glenmore insisted on my coming -in, otherwise I would not have done so—knowing -how tiresome visitors are at such a -moment; but since I am here, do me the -favour to mention to Miss Melcomb, how very -happy I am to have the opportunity of wishing -her joy."</p> - -<p>"And do look," cried Lady Aveling, "at -this enchanting hat; it is just come from Paris—was -there ever any thing <i>de meilleur gôut</i>?—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -then look at this, and that <i>seduisante</i>—really, -Lady Melcomb, your selection has been -exquisite. But here comes the bride."</p> - -<p>Then ensued kisses, curtseys, and congratulations, -during which Lord Glenmore retired, -wearied with the nonsense of the female coterie, -and despairing of even catching a glance -from Miss Melcomb.</p> - -<p>While the marriage ornaments continued to -absorb the attention of the other visitors, Miss -Melcomb took Lady Ellersby aside to shew -her what, she said, was infinitely better worth -looking at—a miniature of Lord Glenmore.</p> - -<p>"So, my dear," said Lady Ellersby, "you -are really what they call in love? he, he, he!"</p> - -<p>"I am fondly attached to Lord Glenmore, -and feel proud now in declaring it;—it has become -my happy duty," replied Miss Melcomb.</p> - -<p>"Duty!" replied Lady Ellersby, opening -her mouth, and <i>ouvrant des grands yeux</i>, "he, -he, he!—surely you are not serious? Whoever -heard a young person going to be married, -that is, going to be her own mistress, talk of -duty! Tell me, really are you not delighted at -the idea of having horses and equipages, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -doing exactly what you like, and going out -every where you please? That was what I liked -and thought of, when I was going to be married, -and——but then I was not in love—he, -he, he!"</p> - -<p>"No?" replied Miss Melcomb, somewhat -astonished.</p> - -<p>"Certainly not—he, he, he!"</p> - -<p>"I have no wish," rejoined Miss Melcomb, -"to be more my own mistress than I am at -present. I shall, on the contrary, feel myself -less at liberty, for of course a married woman -has a thousand things to think of which a girl -has not."</p> - -<p>"La, my dear, you talk in a way which it is -very right to teach children, but when people -act for themselves they think very differently. -Every body, you know, marries to avoid being -governed."</p> - -<p>"I never could have married for that reason, -for I have been the happiest of creatures at -home."</p> - -<p>"Well really, la! you don't say so! But -now you will have an opera box, jewels, equipages, -and all sorts of delightful things."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I don't know—perhaps if Lord Glenmore -intends I should—"</p> - -<p>"La, how droll you are; you don't really -mean to set out by asking his leave, or consulting -him on such trifling subjects as these, my -dear child, he, he, he! you are enough to -spoil any husband.—Well, good morning—you -must correct yourself of such <i>enfantillage</i>—remember -what I say. Six months will not -have elapsed before you recant all this, and -change your present mode of thinking and -feeling."</p> - -<p>Miss Melcomb smiled, and shook her head -in token of dissent. "Good morning," Lady -Ellersby repeated, "I have already intruded -too much upon your time; I shall be delighted -to cultivate your society when you come back -a gay bride; and pray tell Lady Melcomb I -will not torment her any more just now.—Once -again accept my congratulations, and my -best compliments to Lord Melcomb, he, he, -he!"</p> - -<p>It is a strange thing that in the happiest of -times there is often a word spoken, or a thing -occurs, which seems to interpose a dark spot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -upon the brightness of happiness, as though -we were not to forget the nature of mortal -felicity. Lady Ellersby's words, of six months -will not elapse ere you have changed your -present feelings—sounded in Miss Melcomb's -ears long after they had been spoken; and -though she strove to drive them from her remembrance, -they remained fixed there like a -warning which she was not to disregard—a -foreboding of evil (for to the happy all change -has terror in it). Minor circumstances such as -this, have happened to every body in their -course through life, and have been like visions -which opened a vista to futurity.</p> - -<p>The day at length came which was to unite -Miss Melcomb with Lord Glenmore, and the -various persons invited met at Lord Melcomb's -house, from whence their carriages followed in -the suite of that of the bride's. The ceremony -took place in St. James's Chapel, and it was a -beautiful sight to see the bride, with composed -bashfulness, in the long white robe and coronal -that bound her veiled brows, so fitly emblematic -of her own purity, supported by her -father to the altar, and given from the paternal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -arms into those of a husband, who was henceforth -to be all the world to her, and whom she -acknowledged to be lord of her affections in the -seriousness of true and deep attachment, as the -chosen of her heart. Her velvet prayer book -in one hand—the other folding her veil across -her person, which it but partially concealed, -she knelt down in that spirit of piety which -hallows and sanctifies the vows she was about -to take. The previous tremor which had -shook her frame as she advanced to the altar, -was stilled into composure as she bent the knee, -and raised her thoughts to heaven.</p> - -<p>Lord Glenmore, too, seemed imbued with -the same devout feelings, and all those who -came with lighter thoughts, appeared, outwardly -at least, impressed.</p> - -<p>When the ceremony closed, the now Lady -Glenmore knelt before her parents, and as they -pressed her to their breast, blessed her with -silent fervour; and even the most insensible acknowledged -a touch of feeling at this scene. -Lady De Chere was heard to say, that she had -no idea it would be made such a serious affair of; -had she known it, she certainly would not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -been present. Congratulations having been -offered on every side, some with sincere goodwill, -but the greater part with common-place -phrase; the marriage party returned to Lady -Melcomb's, where a breakfast had been prepared.</p> - -<p>"What a <i>mélange</i> of persons!" observed -Lady Ellersby, as she stopped in the door-way -on entering, in order to reconnoitre. "If I -had not been obliged" (she whispered to Lady -Tilney), "nothing should have brought me -here."</p> - -<p>"And <i>I</i> most indubitably should not have -come," replied the latter, "had it not been to -<i>oblige you</i>; and after all I would have given a -great deal that I <i>had not</i>: for I assure you, my -dear, as soon as the affair of the day is over, -we must none of us be seen here again; what -we may do respecting Lord and Lady Glenmore, -<i>reste a savoir</i>. But yonder is Lady Baskerville -and Lady Tenderden, let us join them, -and by keeping as much as possible together, -and talking to no one but in our own circle, -shew that we are not here even at present on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -familiar footing." Lady Baskerville was conversing -with Lady Tenderden on one of those -square Ottomans <i>dos-a-dos</i>, with their several -cavaliers by them, Lord Tonnerre, Lord Gascoigne, -Lord Boileau, &c.</p> - -<p>"Well I am sure," said Lady Baskerville, -addressing Lord Boileau, "if I were Lady -Glenmore, I should heartily wish all this <i>étiquette -de noces</i> was over; when a marriage has -taken place, and it is known to all the world, -the amusement is ended, and there is nothing -to be wished for, but the comfortable arrangement -of two sensible persons, who know what -it is to live without being <i>a charge</i> to each -other."</p> - -<p>"To be sure," replied Lord Boileau, "I -wonder how people can make this sort of fuss -and <i>étalage</i>; it is assuming that one is interested -for them—nobody cares whether any -body is happy or miserable, and it is a bad -taste to <i>affiché</i> their private feelings in this -public manner."</p> - -<p>At this moment a general movement in one -of the apartments attracted every body's attention.—"Lord -Melcomb is dead!" "Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -Melcomb is dying!" resounded in audible -whispers.</p> - -<p>"Call my carriage."—"How shocking."—"I -would not be in the room with a corpse -for the world."—"Do let us get away."</p> - -<p>"Who knows but it may be catching—how -fortunate for Glenmore," said Lord Boileau, -looking over the people's heads, as he beheld -Lord Melcomb apparently lifeless. "He will -have the pretty heiress and her fortune at the -same moment."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked some one who -stood near.</p> - -<p>"Why, only if the old Lord dies, that Miss -Melcomb becomes immediate mistress of Melcomb -Park, and an estate of ten thousand a year."</p> - -<p>"Does she! you do not mean so; had I -known that, I would have proposed to the girl -myself," said Lord Tonnerre.</p> - -<p>"But is he really in an apoplectic fit?" said -another.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps, but sometimes people do outlive -these sort of things, and walk about -quite gaily many years."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah! there is that chance to be sure," said -Lady Baskerville, laughing. It is lamentable -to remark, how those who live in fashion's -fooleries become actually indifferent to every -thing, and to every circumstance, of what -mighty moment soever, that does not immediately -concern their interests and pleasures. -The most tremendous events, the most awful -dispensations, the most surprising occurrences -are to them so many little coloured bubbles, -that seem to blow about for their amusement, -or targets set up to shoot jokes at. Life and -death seem but as foot-balls for these puppets -to play with: it would be laughable if it were -not horrible.</p> - -<p>Lord Melcomb had only a fainting fit, occasioned -by over fatigue, and the heat of the -room. The brilliant crowd, however, which -were assembled at his house, fled in dismay on -the first alarm of sickness or of sorrow; and -their inquiries the next day for his health, were -influenced more by curiosity, than by any -feeling of humanity, or any real care whether -he were alive or dead. This event, however, -had a very different effect on the minds of Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -Melcomb's sincere friends, who waited with -anxiety to learn the effects of this sudden illness. -On Lady Glenmore's mind it cast a cloud, which -seemed to overshadow the bright dawning of -her happiness; and she trembled at the idea of -some unknown calamity, an idea which had once -before visited her, when called up by Lady Ellersby's -words, and which now again recurred -to her with painful intenseness. A short hour, -however, relieved every one from anxiety; -Lord Melcomb was completely restored, and he -received the embraces of his child: when kissing -away the tears, which she could not restrain, -he entreated her to lay aside all fears -on his account. Once more the bridal pair -received the parental blessing; and taking -leave of the few dear friends that surrounded -them, stepped into their carriage and set off -for Lord Glenmore's villa, where after remaining -a short time, and feeling quite reassured -on Lord Melcomb's account, they -proceeded on a tour to Paris.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER XI.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">A FASHIONABLE EASTER.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> season was approaching when, in good -old times, the heads of great families left the -metropolis, and in the retirement of their -country seats or villas devoted the precious -hours of the solemn festival of Easter to reflection, -apart from busy scenes of public life in -the bosoms of their families—thus setting an -example worthy of imitation: and overcoming, -in some degree, the difficulty with which we -know a rich man shall enter the Kingdom of -Heaven.</p> - -<p>How widely different is it at the present day -with those who call themselves <i>The Ton</i>. They -go indeed, at this holy season, to villas, and -country seats, but take with them there all the -follies, and vices, and habits of that daily -idleness and dissipation which can suffer no -pause in its riot, no diminution in its intoxication.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lady Ellersby had invited to Restormel -Lady Tilney and the more select of her coterie. -Some there were, the subalterns of their <i>corps -élite</i>, who, however subservient and ready they -had proved themselves to adopt the follies of -exclusiveness, had as yet failed in establishing -themselves in its full rights and prerogatives, -and who, after the sacrifice of their own true -dignity, still found themselves but as tools in -the hands of others. These, often overlooked -in the more <i>recherché</i> amusements, <i>heard</i> of the -party at Restormel, but only <i>heard</i>, and were -not among the invited. To be excluded on -such an occasion was a mortification of the -severest kind, and it became a matter of the -greatest importance to have their names -inserted, if possible, on the select list. To -obtain this point, the infinite pains and -ingenuity employed were worthy of a better -cause. The Baskervilles were of the number -overlooked; and, addressing his wife on the -subject with as much eagerness as it was permitted -one of his dignified refinement to display, -Lord Baskerville said:</p> - -<p>"Imagine what Boileau has just told me;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -Lady Ellersby has a party at Restormel next -week! I do think <i>we</i> had a right to be asked; -don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh certainly, <i>love</i>," replied Lady Baskerville, -a sweet-sounding epithet of affection -which but on few occasions passed between -them: "Certainly: and if we are not, I shall -think it quite rude; but <i>I will</i> arrange the -matter."</p> - -<p>That night Lady Baskerville went to the -Opera with Lady Boileau; as soon as an opportunity -presented itself, Lady Baskerville -turned suddenly round, and said, "Oh, there -is Lady Ellersby, I see, in her box: how well -she looks—of <i>course you</i> are going to Restormel -at Easter?" and she kissed her hand the -while, in her most smiling manner, to the lady -of whom she spoke.</p> - -<p>"No, I am not invited," replied Lady Boileau. -"Are you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," rejoined Lady Baskerville, (determined -to hazard the lie at all events, and trust -to chance, or her own devices, to make it true -afterwards.) "But how very odd she should -have left you out; it must be some mistake."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, no, it is not a mistake—it cannot be; -for Lady Ellersby, you know, makes all her -invitations on these occasions <i>de vive voix</i>." -Lady Baskerville almost betrayed herself as -she <i>felt</i> Lady Boileau's penetrating eyes fixed -upon her's, with a scrutiny she did not wish to -prolong; however she rallied dexterously, and -turned off the discourse into some other -channel; but Lady Boileau returned to the -charge, saying:</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear Lady Baskerville, as <i>you -are</i> asked, do you not think you could get us -invited also? You know I hardly ever break -my rule of running the risk of compromising a -friend by tormenting her to procure invitations, -but for this once I think I may venture, -considering our long friendship, to entrust you -with the secret (for you know I would not -have it said for the world), that I wish to -be of the number of the <i>Priées</i> to Restormel—now -as I intend giving my first ball immediately -after Easter, I shall consult her to-night -about certain persons whom I am rather doubtful -whether I shall ask or not, and then by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -appealing to you, throw the conversation into -your hands, and give you an opportunity of -naming those who are invited to Restormel, -which will bring about the subject in such a -natural way, that either I must be asked or -she will commit herself by a rudeness which -she generally avoids."</p> - -<p>Lady Baskerville sat on thorns, but during the -length of this speech she had leisure to collect her -scattered senses, and began a reply equally elaborate, -professing herself to be exceedingly attached -and obliged to Lady Boileau, and for <i>that -very reason</i> declining all interference on the present -occasion—"for you know," she said, "it -makes one so very <i>nervous</i> to put a friend under -the unpleasant predicament of being refused. -Besides, the moment one lets the world know -that one has a friend who wants any thing, -people begin immediately to conclude that -they may want many things, and directly look -shy, and make an excuse, and get off, and -probably cut both the <i>asker</i> and the person for -whom they ask. However <i>you know</i> I will do -what <i>I can do</i>, but only I entreat you will leave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -me at liberty to chuse the mode of managing -this business."</p> - -<p>"Yes," rejoined Lady Boileau, "most certainly; -but perhaps the best way of all will be -to say nothing about it, beforehand, and then -for me to arrive unexpectedly, and say <i>you</i> had -asked me, and had forgotten to mention to -Lady Ellersby that you had done so."</p> - -<p>"Oh! <i>not for the world</i>, my dearest Lady -Boileau, not for the world,—besides,—I just -recollect—Lord Baskerville had some idea we -should not go at all;"—at that instant arrives -Lord Baskerville himself, and forgetting his -acquired manner, he opened the box-door -somewhat abruptly, and in his natural gay -agreeable way, such as is his own when he -ceases to remember he is an exclusive, he said, -addressing Lady Baskerville,</p> - -<p>"I have this instant had an invitation for you, -which I am sure you will accept with pleasure: -it is from Lady Ellersby to go to Restormel."</p> - -<p>"Dear! la! Lord Baskerville, how odd -you are—that is so like you—to have forgot—and -Lady Ellersby too, she must have forgotten,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -don't you know <i>we were</i> asked a fortnight -ago."</p> - -<p>"Ah—hem! very true," and taking the -hint which Lady Baskerville had given him -by an expressive glance, "hem! I <i>had</i> really -forgotten, I always forget <i>those sort of things</i>, -hem!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and you said then, <i>if you</i> remember, -that <i>you</i> would not go, for that you thought of -visiting Tunbridge, as you always conceived -Restormel to be a dull, damp place, and so -unwholesome, with its quantity of trees and -stagnant water."</p> - -<p>"Ay—so I did,—hem! very true, and so it -is, and now you put me in mind, I rather -suppose <i>we</i>, that is <i>I</i>, shall not go, for of -course <i>your</i> ladyship will do as you chuse."</p> - -<p>Lady Boileau, though young in years, was -too old a bird of fashion to be caught with chaff, -she saw through this matrimonial manœuvre, -but was too prudent to let her perception be -seen; and in regard to Lady Baskerville's -refusal on the subject of Restormel, she -pretended to take it as the latter intended -it should be taken, and her outward appearance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -remained unruffled, but at the same time -it was marked in the tablets of her memory, as -a token of friendship <i>not to be forgotten</i>.</p> - -<p>"Indeed," replied Lady Boileau, in answer -to Lord Baskerville's last remark, "you are -both quite right, Restormel <i>is</i> a <i>dull</i> place, and -I advise you to secure a party for Tunbridge, -in which I shall be most happy to join you."</p> - -<p>"I will think about it, hem!" replied Lord -Baskerville, "and consult the Comtesse Leinsengen," -and thus he bowed out of the box. -Shortly after, Lady Baskerville feigned a very -bad head-ache and retired before the end of -the ballet. Not so Lady Boileau; she watched -Lady Ellersby's movements, and contrived to -meet her in the room just at the very moment -when the crowd prevented her escaping.</p> - -<p>"What do you think I have been doing all -night?" Lady Boileau asked?</p> - -<p>"Not listening to the Opera," replied Mr. -Spencer Newcomb, who was handing Lady -Ellersby.</p> - -<p>"As if any body ever really came to attend -to or listen to it!" she observed; "it is the very -last thing one comes to the Opera for," yawning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I have been much better employed," -rejoined Lady Boileau, "for I have been -defending the <i>agrémens</i> of Restormel against -Lord and Lady Baskerville's assertion of its -being the dullest place in the world; they -both declared it always gave them the vapours."</p> - -<p>"So it does me," replied Lady Ellersby, -again yawning, "and that is precisely the -reason why I take such special care never -to go there, without having it well filled. But -then all places in the country are alike, and -one <i>must</i> go out of town at Easter."</p> - -<p>"Well, Lady Ellersby, that may be true -enough: all country places are insufferably -dull except it be to give a fête during the -lilac and laburnum season; but I think -your friends might make some distinction -between <i>you</i> and your <i>place</i>, and as far as -I could observe there was none made by the -Baskervilles."</p> - -<p>"Oh was there <i>not</i>, he, he! Oh if such -<i>is</i> the case I am sorry I asked them to-night."</p> - -<p>"To-night! did you not make Lady Baskerville -the invitation long before to-night? -you will pardon my asking the question; I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -have a particular reason, which I will explain -to you hereafter, for doing so."</p> - -<p>"La, dear, no," yawning, "I never thought -of asking any body <i>long ago</i>." This, though -in contradiction to her former declaration of -taking care to <i>secure</i> a party, she was obliged -to say in order to avoid a marked rudeness to -Lady Boileau, "and," she continued, "now -I have the good fortune to meet you, dear -Lady Boileau, will you and Lord Boileau -have the charity to join us; and, notwithstanding -Lady Baskerville's terrific account of -Restormel, venture to come and <i>egayer</i> its -melancholy bowers; at all events it will be -better than remaining in town, and we will try -to do what we can to render ourselves agreeable -to you."</p> - -<p>"I shall be delighted; we shall have the -greatest pleasure in waiting upon you, and am -certain we shall be extremely well amused."</p> - -<p>The great object of Lady Boileau's day was -now successfully attained, and doubtless she -laid her head upon her pillow that night with -all the satisfaction which such success ought to -confer. Lady Baskerville, on her part rejoiced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -in having as she thought so completely outmanœuvred -her friend, and enjoyed the triumph -which her superior skill in the management of -such matters, as well as her superior knowledge -of <i>the world</i>, had afforded her. Yet these -women called each other <i>friends</i>! How is that -sacred name profaned, that name which can -have no embodied existence, but with the -sincere and good, yet which is polluted in the -world's mouth at every instant.</p> - -<p>Restormel was, as it had been described -by Lady Baskerville, an exceedingly gloomy -place, but all within the house was luxury; -beyond its walls, however, there were none of -those moral circumstances which can give -interest even to the dullest spot. The scenery -was monotonous and insipid; but there might -have been an enlivening character thrown -over the gloom, in the happy countenances -and cheerful looks of dependents and retainers, -if such had been the will of the -possessors of Restormel. But this was not -the case, the cold calculating system of employment -of the poor, merely when the purpose -of keeping up the grounds or other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -improvements made it necessary, and then -taking no further charge whatever of the -beings so employed, regarding them only as -the labourers of the hour, conspired to give -the place a moral, as well as a natural gloom.</p> - -<p>No peasant's abode in these domains was -ever cheered by Lady Ellersby's presence; no -sufferer in sickness or distress alleviated beyond -the donation of money, and that but seldom;—none -of those heart-interests in short were -ever evinced, on her, or her Lord's part, which -confer a mutual delight on those who receive, -and on those who bestow them, and which -maintain that link between the higher and -lower classes, which is at once so beautiful -and so beneficial, and without which all the -luxuries in the world will never produce any -thing but a melancholy and unsatisfying -grandeur.</p> - -<p>There certainly, however, were the means, -if they had been resorted to, for every laudable -gratification of interest and entertainment -at Restormel. And where is the country -place in which, if its possessor fulfil the -various duties the possession entails on him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -the means are wanting; and even as it was, -if that sickly appetite for excitement which -characterised its present inhabitants could -ever have been satisfied, it must have been -here, where every thing connected with their -system of life was found in profusion; but -the factitious smiles which gild the exterior -of such a circle as was generally to be met with -at Restormel is not the sunshine of real happiness.</p> - -<p>Easter was now arrived and the party -assembled at Restormel, consisted of the -Tilneys, the Tenderdens, the Baskervilles, -the Leinsengens, Luttermannes, Lord Tonnerre, -Lady Hamlet Vernon, Lord Albert -D'Esterre (who was asked <i>on trial</i>), Lord and -Lady Boileau, by the manœuvre which has -been described, and one or two single men -like Mr. Leslie Winyard, Mr. Spencer Newcomb, -&c. &c.</p> - -<p>These persons all met on the first night of -their arrival at an eight o'clock dinner. Lord -Albert D'Esterre had been invited at Lady -Tilney's suggestion, who considered a country -house a good stage for the display of a new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -<i>debutant</i>, and as affording no unpropitious -opportunity of forwarding her wishes in regard -to Lord Albert's political bias. These wishes, -however, were soon doomed to disappointment; -Lord Albert had accepted the invitation under -the impression that in the country there was -more leisure and tranquillity than the hurry of -a London life allowed; but whether in the -country or town, he might have known, had -not the fatal mist of delusion which comes over -all who enter on a tortuous path began to -blind him, that reflection and serenity of mind -do not depend on time or place; that power, -that calm, may be destroyed or may be -nurtured in cities, as in lonely wilds, it is true; -but had he thought for a moment, he would -have felt that the gay assemblage in which he -was to mix at Restormel, was not calculated to -restore him to that state of mind which he -believed himself anxious to regain.</p> - -<p>In the course of Lord Albert D'Esterre's -acquaintance with Lady Hamlet Vernon, he -had discovered much to charm, to dazzle, and -to lead a mind so young as his into a maze -of error. Sophistry had gradually drawn its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -veil before his perception of truth; through this -he viewed her character; and under the same -delusive influence, he persuaded himself that -the interest he took in her arose from the -purest motive, namely that of endeavouring to -free from error, one whose nature was naturally -endowed with capabilities for becoming -truly estimable. He listened to all her dangerous -and seductive opinions, while he gazed on -her beauty, bewildered with the false conviction -that he did so to prove to her the error -of the one, and to point out the peril which, -with such unfixed tenets, the other would -most probably lead her into.</p> - -<p>What a melancholy prospect, he inwardly -exclaimed, lies before that beautiful creature, -whose principles have never been formed to -virtue, and who has been cast among those -whose every axiom is contrary to the laws of -purity and truth! What delight in the reflection, -what a good action it will be, to disentangle -such a being from the snares that -surround her, and restore her to a life of usefulness -and happiness. My heart aches for -her, when I think how in early youth, before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -she could know her own wishes, she was -married to an unprincipled husband, one who -could never have known her worth; she must not -be abandoned without an effort to save her. -Thus did Lord Albert parley with himself, -till a dangerous admixture of evil glided in with -his better feelings, and prevented that clear -perception between right and wrong, which -under his engagements should have made him -at once fly from Lady Hamlet Vernon. It -was <i>not</i> so, however, and Lady Hamlet Vernon -was more the object that led him to Restormel, -than any wish for, or sense of, the necessity of -retirement and reflection.</p> - -<p>The mode of living at Restormel was what -Spencer Newcomb wittily called the <i>foreign -system</i>, that is, every pleasure-giving circumstance -was throughout the daily routine cultivated -to the utmost point which art could reach. -To give an account of it in detail would be a -work of supererogation; for it was a transfer -of London to the country, only with this difference, -that the post town and high road took -place of the streets of the metropolis; and the -shrubberies and gardens of Restormel, of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -of Kensington and the Park; with the exception, -too, of a rather animated discussion between -Lady Tilney and Lord Tonnerre on -the subject of female influence; and which -brought the parties into closer collision, than -was consistent with the outward harmony of -exclusive <i>ton</i>.</p> - -<p>Little occurred during the first few days of -the retreat to Restormel to vary the monotony -of the scene. With reference to this latter -subject, Lady Tilney remarked to Lady Baskerville, -as they left the dining-room, on the -evening when the affair alluded to had taken -place, "I am very sorry, my dear Lady -Baskerville, very sorry indeed, that what I said -should have taken such a desperate effect on -your friend Lord Tonnerre; however, it does -every body good to hear the truth now and -then, and as he seldom if ever hears it, I -think I have done him service in sounding that -tocsin in his ears for once in his life, don't you, -my dear?"</p> - -<p>"He, he, he!" tittered Lady Baskerville, -who did not like to offend the speaker, though -she was really angry with her in her heart;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -"I dare say you are quite right—but for my -part, I never wish to teach any body any thing; -I was so tired of being taught myself, that -whatever reminds me of the dull days of being -a good girl, and having a governess, quite overcomes -me."</p> - -<p>"Oh," observed the Comtesse Leinsengen, -"what sinnify, whether dat Lord is in a passion -or not, nothing will ever change him. -He knows but two phrases in the dictionary, -<i>I will</i> and <i>I won't</i>, you <i>shall</i> and you <i>shan't</i>, -and he do tink himself, and all dat belong to -himself, quite perfect, <i>c'est une ignorance crasse -a tout prendre</i>, but what <i>sinnify</i> it? He was -alway Milor Tonnerre, he <i>is</i> Milor Tonnerre, -he will alway <i>be</i> Milor Tonnerre; <i>laisser le -grogner, c'est son métier; en qualité de Tonnerre -il grognera toujours, quesque ça nous fait? -il n'est pas notre mari laisse-le là de grâces</i>," -and she looked at Lady Baskerville as she -spoke.</p> - -<p>This affair, however, did not pass over quite -so easily as Lady Tilney would have had it; -and it ended in Lord Tonnerre's going suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -to town; and Lady Baskerville remaining in -exceedingly bad humour: for to be without an -<i>attaché quelconque</i> was as bad as to be without -a hat from Herbot's.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 style="margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;">CHAPTER XII.</h2> - -<h3 style="margin-bottom: 2em;">FASCINATION—THE CHURCH-YARD, &c.</h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a continued scene of frivolity, to call it by -no harsher name, and in the turmoil of petty -passions and jarring female interests, passed -the hours at Restormel that led on to the most -solemn period of the year. Amongst the actors -in it, Lord Albert D'Esterre cannot (with the -feelings and character which he still possessed) -be supposed to have held a part at all consistent -with his true wishes; and, but for the increasing -and alarming fascination of his senses, -and the warping of his better judgment, by -the influence which Lady Hamlet Vernon -still, day by day, more effectually exercised -over him, he would have quitted a society -altogether, of which he could never really -form a component part, and <i>from</i> which, but -for the third power which held him in combination -with it, he must have quickly separated -himself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<p>But, however much this fatal influence might -affect the general line of his conduct, the good -seeds sown in early life, though sadly choaked -as they had been, were not yet totally eradicated; -and on the morning of the Easter -festival, he took his way to the village to obey -the calling bell of church. The service -had begun when he entered, and it was not -till the first lesson was commenced that he -lifted his eyes from the book, and beheld in -the family pew opposite Lady Hamlet Vernon. -A flush of various feelings coloured his cheek, -and suffused with a richer glow even the -whiteness of his forehead. She is then, he -thought, in despite of the example around -her, really good;—she has listened to my -advice; she has come to the fountain-head for -instruction—all is well! He then endeavoured -to follow the service throughout its solemn -beauty; but his mind was disturbed, and his -thoughts wandered.</p> - -<p>When the congregation was dismissed, of -course he bowed and approached Lady Hamlet -Vernon with the greetings of the morning -salutations, and offering her his arm, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -walked slowly on into the church-yard; it -was one of those quiet gray days, which belong -neither to winter nor spring, but owned affinity -with both, and there was a freshness in the -odour of the new trodden grass, which might -have been deemed the precursor of flowers, -had not a frosty air chilled the sweet promise;—some -fine old yews surrounded the church-yard, -and the gay colours of the country -peoples' ribbons and cloaks appeared in brilliant -relief as they lingered beneath the dark -boughs.</p> - -<p>The rustic curtsey, and abrupt inclination -of respect, which were offered in homage to -Lord D'Esterre and Lady Hamlet Vernon on -either side, as they passed through the village -throng, indicated that the actions of those in -the higher ranks of life can never be disregarded -by the lower; a kind of deep respect, -and an apparent satisfaction, sat on the -countenances of these good people, and they -showed by their very looks and manner, that -they felt the hallowing of the sabbath to be a -link of sympathy existing between them and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -their superiors, which mutually allied them in -the bonds of christian fellowship.</p> - -<p>These are feelings which, even in the uneducated, -are still indigenous to the human heart, -and, if cherished and preserved, become as -productive of good as, when neglected or contemned, -they tend to incalculable evil. As -Lord Albert and Lady Hamlet Vernon passed -along, the latter observed:</p> - -<p>"I love to linger here; these rude memorials -of love and respect to the dead" (pointing to -the graves at their feet) "are a mournful gratification -to the living; they tell us that in our -turn we may at least hope to remain some short -time in the memories of those whom we quit; -but after all, <i>tout passe</i>," and she sighed -heavily;—"yes, <i>here</i> undoubtedly all that the -proudest trophies can do, is for a time to point -the moral of a good or bad character by the -stone that covers or decorates the tomb."</p> - -<p>"But the tomb, dear Lady Hamlet, is only -the repository of the dust; it will itself become -like the dust it covers; but never, like that -awakened dust, be infused with new life, a -life far more glorious than all that we can form<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -an idea of; and we must look not <i>upon</i>, not -<i>in</i> the grave, but beyond it, where death is -swallowed up in victory."</p> - -<p>"<i>You</i> can do this, and you are happy," she -replied. A cold revulsion struck on Lord -Albert's heart as she paused and breathed with -labouring breath,—"and can <i>you</i> not do so?" -he asked in deep low tone and shuddered as -he spoke. She shook her head; and after a -moment's pause said, "all the happiness I -know is confined to a few brief moments—a few -electric gleams of pleasure, which vanish in -their birth; a feverish uncertain and fearful -catching at delight, which yet eludes my grasp. -These are all the means which I possess to -obtain happiness; yet, such as they are, and -such as my success in them is, I would not -exchange them for yours—what! exchange -your cold, leaden, measured <i>theories of feelings</i>, -for they are nothing more—or the beating -pulse of spontaneous joy, which even in this -moment of our communing is mine; no, -Lord Albert, no—meanly as I think of myself -when measured by your standard in the -general tenour of our existence, and in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -scale of being, there are moments when I soar -above all that was ever dreamt of in your -philosophy,"—and as she spoke her eyes danced -in a deceptive brilliancy that for the moment -turned Lord Albert's brain. He shuddered as -he felt the pressure of her arm on his while she -uttered these words, and his uncertain footsteps -slid upon the base of a marble tomb.</p> - -<p>In the action of recovering himself, a kind of -change seemed to pass through his frame; so -much are we influenced by trivial circumstances, -which yet are surely not the agents of -chance; in so doing his eyes rested on an inscription -engraven on the stone, and as if glad -to escape from answering her, he read the -following lines:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They were so one, it never could be said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which of them ruled, or which of them obeyed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He ruled because she would obey, and she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By him obeying, ruled as well as he.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There ne'er was known betwixt them a dispute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save which the other's will should execute.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"The lines are indeed beautiful," said Lady -Hamlet Vernon, "and I could be content to be -the mould under that stone, if I had ever -enjoyed an existence to which they might with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -truth have been applied—but as it is, <i>non -ragionam di lor</i>;" and she sprang lightly -forwards, adding in a tone of affected levity, -"let us make haste back to Restormel; -why, dear Lord Albert, we shall be laughed at -if it is known that we have been to church." -The spell was broken, he made no reply, and -they continued the remainder of their walk in -silence.</p> - -<p>"Hard, cold, insensate man!" cried Lady -Hamlet Vernon, when she reached her own -apartment; "but he shall be met with an equal -share of self-love. I will subdue this haughty -nature, and mock at him, when his hour of -suffering arrives. If he loved passionately -any thing, even that doll, that infant, that -piece of clock-work Lady Adeline Seymour, I -could forgive him; but he does not, it is a systematical -pursuit of an ideal perfection, that -leaves his heart always cold and untouched, -and fenced round as it were with adamant. -Proud D'Esterre, thou shalt weep for this"—and -she paused for a moment, then collecting all -her thoughts, her final resolution was taken, -and availing herself of a communication which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -she had to make to Mr. Foley, who she trusted -might be instrumental to her purpose, with a -breaking heart, and with contending feelings -she seized a pen, and traced the following -letter:</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"I am happy to inform you, my dear Mr. -Foley, that the official patronage, which you -have long wished me to procure for you, is -now actually obtained, and your arrival in town -is all that is wanted to arrange the necessary -preliminaries. A letter received yesterday informs -me of this; but in the interim, I wish -you could make it convenient to pass a few -days here on your road to London; for between -ourselves, this place and its society is -insufferably dull; and were it not for tilt and -tournament between Lord Tonnerre and Lady -Tilney (who you know under the rose cannot -hear each other,) we must have all gone to -sleep, or torn one another to pieces, or eaten -our own paws, like antediluvian hyenas, from -the absolute want of mental nourishment. But -in this predicament, resembling people reduced -to starvation on a sea voyage, we cast lots to -see who should first be sacrificed for the benefit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -of the rest, and fortunately by the address -of Lady Tilney, the lot was made to fall on -Lord Tonnerre, who finished his existence -amongst us, as he always lived, in a storm of -passion; the only one of the party, I believe, -who regrets his absence, is Lady Baskerville, -who is now <i>sans cavalier</i>, and in the Roman -phraseology, <i>d'impeccarsi</i>. I advise you then -by all means to come quickly, and to supply -the vacancy.</p> - -<p>"But to leave joking, I must tell you my -dear friend, that I languish for a rational companion, -and one who will kindly enter into -my feelings; nobody understands me here;—too -good, and too bad, I am like Mahomet's -tomb, hanging between heaven and earth, and -I find no resting place for my sick soul, nor -shall I, 'till you come with your kindly smile, -to solace my weary spirit. Come, therefore, -and that without delay, for you well know that -when any thing is to be done, it had best be -done quickly—all delays are dangerous, and -with me they are despair.</p> - -<p>"Would you wish to know something of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -those you will meet here? I have only to mention -their names, and refer you to our old note -book; I see no great visible change in any of -them. Mr. Spencer Newcombe has been here -for a few days, and is certainly the <i>most</i> diverting -man in the world; and well he may be, for -he lives entirely for that purpose.</p> - -<p>"Lord Albert D'Esterre is here also; he -sets up for a censor and corrector of men, -manners, and things. He will have enough -to do, if he persists in this unpopular walk; -but I am much mistaken, if he will not soon -find it a very arduous undertaking, and one -indeed which is quite hopeless. If he were -but content to do as other people do, who live -in the world, and to be a little more like his -day and generation, and a little less of Don -Quixotte, he would really be a pleasant person. -He does not, <i>par parenthèse</i>, seem in a -hurry to join his betrothed, which I think is -rather a good sign; for I should have but a -poor opinion of a man who did as papa and -mamma ordered, and fell in love precisely as -he had been desired to do in the days of his -childhood.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The Tilney, the Leinsengen, the Baskerville, -the Boileau, go on in their usual way; -and like the old quotation, though they all -differ, yet they all agree in one thing at least, -which is wishing the society of your agreeable -self; so under pain of not only my displeasure, -but that of all the world's, come quickly, -and delay not. Adieu, and believe me to be -the most true of your true friends.</p> - -<p style="text-align: right; margin-bottom: 1em;">"H. V."</p></blockquote> - -<p>In consequence of the occurrence of Lord -Albert's morning walk, he felt little inclined -to join the circle on his return to Restormel; -and was in a mood too replete with contradictory -feelings, to allow him to reflect calmly, -still less to enable him to decide sanely upon -the only vigorous step he should have taken, -namely, to flee from temptation. He excused -himself under the plea of being unwell, from -leaving his own room; and sitting down with a -determination of communing with his own -heart, he found not the habit so easy, after -long neglect; and was conscious that he -mused, without deriving any fruit from his -contemplations.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> - -<p>But by degrees, this confusion of mind -subsided; and then came that soothing composure, -which, after a state of emotion, is always -welcomed with something like pleasure. -He opened a favourite author, Owen Feltham; -and he could not read long, without seeing his -own necessities reflected in the page, as in a -glass; this is one way by which to prove -whether a moral or religious work be sterling -or not, does it apply to our necessities? does it -first probe, and then salve our wounds? Lord -Albert D'Esterre found this book did both; and -in its perusal, there was a sanctity of enjoyment -to which he had been long a stranger. This -enjoyment was, however, too soon disturbed by -his servant bringing in a note; he felt it as an -unwelcome intrusion; but it was opened after -a moment's hesitation, and contained the following -words:</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"I am anxious to know how you really are. -I too am unwell, and I dread lest I should -have have said or done something this morning, -which may have offended you—oh! if -you know how terrible it is for those who -have none to care for them, to suppose for an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -instant that they have given pain (however, -unwittingly) to the only person whose good -opinion they are anxious to possess, and who -has evinced an interest in their welfare—you -would now feel for me. I am not of those -who make a display of their heart's feelings—far -from it, I am a miser of the few treasures -which lie hoarded there; it is for that reason -that I mingle with the rest, as though -I were one of <i>them</i>; and that I am now writing -these troubled lines in the midst of the insipid -turmoil which surrounds me; <i>tout comme si de -rien étoit</i>. Aid me in bearing my grievous -burthen of existence, and send me one line -to be a cordial for the moment at least; the -present moment's ease is all I ever hope for."</p></blockquote> - -<p>What an overturn to all composure was -conveyed in this little bit of perfumed paper; -fifty commencements of reply were made and -torn; at last he rang his bell, summoned his -valet, and having given a verbal answer to the -effect that he would shortly obey the commands -of Lady Hamlet Vernon, he appeared -in the drawing-room almost as soon as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -could have expected a written reply. She was -sitting apart from the rest of the company -with a look of abstractedness and melancholy, -the effect of which was heightened by extreme -paleness; her beautiful dark hair was less carefully -arranged than the laws of fashion demanded, -but it was not the less beautiful for -that, and some stray tresses fell gracefully -upon her neck; her air, her dress, the subdued -expression of her eyes, were all captivating, -and precisely in Lord Albert's <i>own</i> way.</p> - -<p>There was a carelessness or scorn of <i>fashionable</i> -dress, which particularly suited his -theories on the subject, not that his practical -admiration had not fifty times been excited by -a very different mode of attire; for the fact -is, that men's tastes in respect to the costume -of women are always regulated by that of the -person they are in love with. On this occasion, -however, it is certain that Lady Hamlet's -attire was in the letter and in the spirit precisely -what Lord Albert D'Esterre pronounced -perfect. She held out her hand to him as he -entered the saloon with the composed air of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -friendship, and expressed her pleasure at seeing -him, for she had feared his indisposition -would not have allowed him to leave his room: -and then motioning him to sit down by her -with that expression of calm interest, which -attracts without affording any plausible application -of the sentiment to a more vivid interest, -she secured her object, and he occupied -the vacant seat next to her's. Mr. Leslie Winyard, -who was playing <i>écarté</i> (even on the sacred -day) with Lady Boileau, while the rest were -studying and betting on the game, called to -Lord D'Esterre, "ah! Lord Albert, we have -all been guessing the reason of your absence; -one said writing letters of love, another sleeping; -but the successful guess was given to my -penetrating judgment, writing a sermon on -the vanities of human life, that is, holding -up to censure all that we your friends are -doing."</p> - -<p>"I assure you, Mr. Leslie Winyard, that -you have not proved your judgment infallible; -for I do not plead guilty either to <i>your</i> charge, -or to any of the others."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, then, join in our game; Lady Boileau -intends to beat me, and I'll vacate my -seat in your favour, and, in parliamentary -phrase, accept at the same time as many hundreds -as you may choose to give me."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me," said Lord Albert, "I cannot."</p> - -<p>"Did you suppose Lady Hamlet Vernon -would let him do so?" whispered Lady Baskerville.</p> - -<p>"That may be," replied Leslie Winyard, -"but my life for it that is not his reason, he -will not play because it is Sunday."</p> - -<p>"Sunday, is it?" yawned Lady Ellersby; -"dear me! I did not know it was Sunday."</p> - -<p>"Leslie Winyard declares you will not play -because it is Sunday, Lord Albert D'Esterre," -exclaimed Mr. Spencer Newcomb.</p> - -<p>"Whatever may be my motive, or my -fancy for not playing," replied Lord Albert, -"I conceive that it is at variance with the -high good breeding of this circle to inquire -further into the matter, though, if it will afford -any satisfaction to Mr. Leslie Winyard, I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -not the smallest hesitation to give to him -those motives."</p> - -<p>"I am bounden to you, my Lord," rejoined -the latter, putting his hand to his heart, "but -for the moment waive the honour of hearing -more, being at the very crisis of the game," -and so saying he turned to the card-table, and -left Lord D'Esterre to the undisturbed enjoyment -of his conversation with Lady Hamlet -Vernon.</p> - -<p>She first broke silence (speaking in a low -tone). "How many misnomers there are in the -world; this society considers itself the mode -and paragon of manners and of fashion—the -world <i>par excellence</i>; and yet the members of it -are always doing or saying something to offend -the feelings of each other. Why was a being -like myself thrown amongst them? one who -sees their falsehood and folly, and yet cannot -escape from it. But on the contrary, every -day as it passes seems more and more to entangle -me. I possess indeed one friend, from -whom I look for consolation; but <i>he</i>, like every -one in this world, has his own troubles, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -indeed I have sometimes feared, that is I fear"—she -broke off abruptly as if to find a suitable -expression for what she would say, then again -continued after a pause—"that I did not altogether -act a generous part by him; one may -excite a deeper interest than one intends, for -it is so soothing to a desolate heart, to find any -one whom it can like, and rest upon, that it is -easy to be betrayed into a conduct, that would -afterwards perhaps render one obnoxious to -the imputation of coquetry; the character for -which of all others, I have the most decided -contempt. I have not yet learnt from you, Lord -Albert D'Esterre," laying particular emphasis -on her words, "that firm independence of -mind, which never yields under circumstances; -for whatever vain disputation I may hold with -myself, I find I am continually yielding to the -influence of events, and floating down the tide -of life, guided more by impulse, than by principle. -It will perhaps be as well in the end—who -knows?"</p> - -<p>Lord Albert D'Esterre had listened with -evident pain to the sophistry these words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -contained, and as Lady Hamlet Vernon paused, -added in his most impressive manner:</p> - -<p>"Oh! dear Lady Hamlet Vernon, I fear -it will undoubtedly <i>not</i> be well with us in the -end, if we live by chance; and we may all -know, if we chuse to know, that so to live will -prove our condemnation."</p> - -<p>"Persuade me of <i>that</i>, teach me your knowledge, -and I will act upon it; give me your -conviction and I will bless you."</p> - -<p>"Surely," thought Lord Albert D'Esterre, -"it is my duty to reclaim this person from the -unhappy and destructive errors into which she -has fallen; it would be altogether wrong, it would -be barbarous, to abandon one, who calls upon -me for aid, who appeals to <i>me</i> for instruction." -Not but another view of the subject crossed -his mind, for thoughts, as we all know, flow in -from contradictory sources.</p> - -<p>"Surely the friend to whom you allude, -and on whom you say you rely, will be a far -more able instructor than I can be."</p> - -<p>"Ay, so he might (she replied) if"——"If -what?"——"If I durst on all occasions apply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -to him—but—but there are existing reasons -to which I before alluded, and which I now -frankly tell you, have frequently made me deny -myself the consolation of his society. We shall -see how things are now, when we are to meet -again after a long absence."</p> - -<p>Lord Albert D'Esterre could scarcely misunderstand -the meaning which these words implied, -and he was too delicate to press the matter -further; but when they separated for the -night, the chief point which was impressed on -Lord Albert's mind was, that Lady Hamlet -Vernon was beloved by Mr. Foley, and if she -did not positively return that sentiment in its -full degree, that she owned a preference in his -favour, to which it was very nearly allied. Yet -if it were so, why should that circumstance -cause him uneasiness? It could only be from -the interest he had imbibed for a person, who -seemed intended for a higher and better career -than the one she was pursuing.</p> - -<p>Men, even the very best of men, frequently -deceive themselves on similar occasions; they -are not, perhaps, <i>in love</i>, they do not mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -to be so; still less is it their intention deliberately -to awaken an interest which they feel -they cannot return: but though they are few, -who would attempt to <i>win</i> a heart under these -circumstances, and merely for the triumph of -doing so; <i>all</i> are not sufficiently free from vanity -to <i>refuse</i> one, when spontaneously offered, -nor, while its possession can be valued for the -passing gratification of self-love <i>only</i>, voluntarily -forego the distinction which its homage -affords. That such was the predicament in -which Lord Albert D'Esterre stood, or that -such was the train of his thoughts, it would be -difficult to say.</p> - -<p>Lady Hamlet Vernon's conduct and manners -towards himself certainly betrayed partiality, -which it was impossible to avoid seeing; -but it was equally impossible to attach to them -the decided character of love; and even were -it so, Lord Albert stood pledged to an engagement -of the most sacred nature, and one -which had it been intimated to him he could -have abandoned, he would have started from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -the contemplation of its possibility; still, however, -his mind was under delusion in regard -to Lady Hamlet Vernon, and the interest which -he would have persuaded himself was felt for -her sake only, was, it is to be feared, nearly allied -to a sentiment, which in his circumstances -never should have been entertained.</p> - -<p>If, however, Lord Albert D'Esterre was -wandering in the maze of undefined resolution, -and with an uncertainty of object, in all -his speculations, not so Lady Hamlet Vernon, -who well marked the nature of the interest -she was gradually acquiring over him, -and which she hoped soon to see augmented -in a degree which would render him completely -her own.</p> - -<p>Many days did not elapse from this time -before Mr. Foley arrived. With that refinement -of tact which all women understand so -well, Lady Hamlet Vernon made her first approach -towards the object she had in view, -by producing between Mr. Foley and Lord -Albert D'Esterre a mutual partiality.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> - -<p>She effected this, as is often successfully done, -by repeating favourable opinions respecting -each, which were uttered, or were not uttered, -as it chanced by the parties one of another; -"<i>mais on ne s'avise jamais de tout</i>," and there -was one circumstance which operated against -her wishes whilst cementing their intimacy. -Thus was the influence which Mr. Foley's vivid -description and praises of the attractions of -Lady Adeline Seymour produced on Lord -Albert D'Esterre's mind. Although somewhat -diminished by absence and by the too -great security he felt of conceiving her -to be beyond the possibility of change, these -attractions still retained their power, and it -needed but the description which he more -than once listened to of her beauty and her -worth, as the theme was dwelt upon by Mr. -Foley, to revive in him all the latent feelings -of his love and admiration for her. After this -revival of the natural allegiance of his heart, -Lord Albert D'Esterre started from his wayward -dream as though he had been warned by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -his better angel. Shaking off the listless unaccountable -thraldom which had of late palsied -his resolution, he ordered post-horses, and -determined to set off for Dunmelraise the very -next day.</p> - - -<p class="center" style="margin-top: 8em; margin-bottom: 14em;">END OF VOL. I.</p> - - -<p class="center">LONDON:<br /> -PRINTED BY J. L. COX, GREAT QUEEN STREET.</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<p class="ph2" style="margin-top: 3em;">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</p> - -<p>Obvious printer errors have been corrected. 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