Dilemmas of Pride Volume II Part 2

So much for feeding illbred men of fas.h.i.+on, in the hope of securing in return what they have not to give--their politeness. After, therefore, expressing warmly their disapprobation of such rudeness, the Misses Salter had nothing for it but to retire to rest, venting on each other, 'till sleep closed their lips, the aggregate of spleen collected throughout the day from so many fruitful sources. Yet here were people whose more than common prosperity might have brought with it more than common happiness in their own line, had not silly ambition and idle vanity poisoned every fountain of attainable enjoyment, and created an inconvenient thirst for the springs of a land of which they were never likely to become naturalized citizens.

The Misses Salter had always heard their poor father say, that he had spared no expense in their education; they knew that they possessed accomplishments, and prided themselves on remembering what they had been made to read at school. But they knew not, for it came not within their sphere to know, that there is an education of early habits effecting the minutiae of outward bearing, and acquired it would seem, by the unconscious mimicry of infancy, the stamp of which no after-school discipline can yet either erase or bestow; and still less were they capable of comprehending, that there is a further education of refining sympathies and enn.o.bling sentiments which, while as children of Adam we all share one first nature, bestows, in combination with that already named of early habits, a sort of second nature, on the privileged few, who from generation to generation have been reared, like exotics, amid the beautiful and beautifying blossoms of delicacy and feeling, sheltered from the rough winds of coa.r.s.eness, the blighting atmosphere of necessity, and the cold ungenial climate of that almost justifiable selfishness unavoidably learned by those who have not only their own, but their family's imperious wants to supply by their individual anxious exertions.

Thus it is that shades of thinking, of feeling, and of judging, scarcely sufficiently palpable to form subjects of instruction, pa.s.s, unintentionally imparted, unconsciously imbibed, from father to son, from mother to daughter, till education in this enlarged sense, in other words refinement, becomes a kind of hereditary distinction, which must be possessed for several succeeding generations before it can well exist in its highest perfection.

That these are very sufficient reasons why the various cla.s.ses of society, for the comfort of all parties, should keep in their respective spheres, till gradually a.s.similated by time and circ.u.mstances, no one who knows the world can deny; the error lies in making pride instead of expediency the ground of separation,--the sin, in suffering the manifestations of that pride to be offensive.

CHAPTER VI.

Lady Arden stood with Alfred receiving the still arriving guests, while Willoughby was just leading away Lady Caroline to commence dancing. He trembled as she took his arm, some of the uncomfortable doubts expressed in his last interview with his brother recurring at the moment. "Why did she always receive his attentions without hesitation, he thought, or rather with a gentle, a winning acquiescence, yet never look happy."

This was a problem on which he pondered night and day, yet one which he could never solve to his entire satisfaction. His intentions were declared in their manner and in their object, and when this is the case, he told himself again and again, not to avoid is surely to encourage.

This ball was Caroline's first meeting with Alfred since his return; for it may be remembered that in the morning he had only seen, not spoken to, nor been seen by her. Willoughby's impatience had led him to overstep the bounds of etiquette. He had been watching near the door, and hearing Lady Palliser and her daughter announced in the first hall, had hastened forward to meet them, given an arm to each, and led them into the ball-room. To address both with tolerable composure was no easy task for Alfred, but imperious necessity seemed to furnish him for the time with the necessary strength. Lady Palliser, all smiles, expressed great pleasure at seeing him, but Caroline's eyes instantly sought the ground, and a glow which no effort could suppress, suffused her cheeks.

Alfred became as suddenly pale--a kind of terror seized him when he recognized the well-known symptom of emotion, and beheld that accession of loveliness which the fleeting brilliancy never failed to bestow on one, the perfect beauty of whose features and form was always to him an object sufficiently dangerous. Willoughby's leading her away, as already noticed, to commence the dancing, was almost a welcome relief.

"I cannot understand, my dear Alfred," said his mother anxiously, as during a pause in the arrivals they stood for a moment quite apart; "your present position with Lady Caroline? Willoughby seems as if by the general consent of all the parties to have taken your place; the lady receives him just as but the other day she did you, and you stand by as if perfectly satisfied that your services were no longer required."

"They are no longer required," said Alfred, "and this is, in fact, the only explanation that can be given."

"No, no; there is some foolish misunderstanding," said Lady Arden, "and I fear," she added, "you are resigning not only your interest, but your happiness too easily."

"You would not deny a lady freedom of choice," whispered Alfred, as the approach of fresh guests put an end to the conversation. Lady Arden however, who loved all her children tenderly, but Alfred above all, was far from satisfied. She sighed, and was compelled to await in silence a more favourable opportunity for discussing the subject.

The quadrille, and the waltz which succeeded it, being concluded, Willoughby led his partner to a kind of arbour, formed by enclosing the veranda, which was well supplied with exotics and flowering shrubs, with an awning of canva.s.s, so that the whole range of French windows could, without imprudence, be permitted to stand open. It would seem that they must have found this retreat a pleasing one, for it was some time before they re-appeared, and when they did so, the countenances of both wore a suspicious aspect, Willoughby's looked delighted, Caroline's conscious and confused.

Alfred had been considering that, to keep up appearances, he must, particularly being at home, ask Lady Caroline to dance. He felt sick at heart when he contemplated the exertion of false spirits it would require to carry him through such an undertaking; yet the more he dreaded the task, the more imperiously did he feel himself called upon to go through its performance. As soon, therefore, as our heroine with her late partner returned to the dancing-room in the manner described, he approached. He was much struck by the expression of Willoughby's countenance: he, however, proffered his request by a sort of indistinct murmur. It was acceded to in sounds quite as inarticulate, and he felt Caroline's trembling fingers laid as lightly as possible on his proffered arm. The room now swam round, and how he found his way into a quadrille which was forming, he never knew. The quadrille ended: a waltz tune instantly commenced, and all the couples fell into the ring, as if it were a matter of course; and with the rest, Alfred and Caroline,--neither perhaps, now that the latter had forfeited her plea of never waltzing, being prepared to give a reason for not doing as others did. If even the quadrille had been an agitating task to poor Alfred, the waltz certainly did not tend to compose his nerves; while the idea of Willoughby, which was never for a moment absent, made every thought and feeling agony. Yet was it useful; it gave firmness, if not sternness to his deportment, and so enabled him to get creditably through the concluding ceremonies of leading Caroline to a sofa beside Lady Palliser, and procuring for her an ice, &c.

On crossing the apartment he encountered Willoughby near a window, took his arm, and drew him into the veranda. He had, as we have already mentioned, been struck with the expression of Willoughby's countenance, and could not help suspecting that some conversation of a peculiarly interesting nature must have just pa.s.sed between him and Caroline; while he fancied that, could he once know the worst to a certainty, he should afterwards be able to meet his fate with composure.

"I think, Willoughby," he said, with tolerably well acted playfulness, but looking down, for he could not venture to meet his brother's eye, "that you have something to communicate that has given you pleasure; and if so, do not fear it can give me pain. I trust I am not so wretchedly selfis.h.!.+ That I have not been fortunate myself, I already know; that you, my dear brother, should be more so, should not surely add to my disappointment; nay, believe me, if I had a lingering regret remaining, it would vanish before the certainty of your happiness."

Thus encouraged, Willoughby, after some little hesitation, confessed that Alfred's suspicions were just; that there had been a conversation of the nature he supposed, and that he had met with so favourable a hearing that he intended on the following day to speak to Lady Palliser on the subject. Alfred, who had overrated his own strength, had not a word to offer in reply. Fortunately, however, at the moment both brothers hearing themselves inquired for by some of their sisters, returned accordingly into the dancing-room.

CHAPTER VII.

When Alfred quitted Lady Arden, her ladys.h.i.+p was joined, at her post near the door, by Mrs. Dorothea, who having much anxious business to arrange, was looking very important, with a large pack of her own printed visiting cards in her hand. On the said cards was added in writing, the words "At Home," together with a certain date, and in a corner nine o'clock; from which latter memorandum hopes of dancing were to be inferred. The date had been chosen with great nicety; for this was to be Mrs. Dorothea's grand party for the season, and must be given while she had her nice house, and before she should be obliged to go back into miserable little confined lodgings, and discharge her footman, &c. Still she wished it to be after Lady Arden's ball; for on that opportunity was placed her grand dependence for picking up beaux. It was for this laudable purpose that the pack of cards already mentioned had been brought in her reticule, and the convenient position near the door taken up. Every lord of the creation who made his appearance was immediately introduced by Lady Arden to Mrs. Dorothea; for, if her ladys.h.i.+p was in any danger of forgetting to do so, she invariably received a reminding twitch of the sleeve, which obliged her in self-defence, or rather in defence of the sit of her blond, to perform the ceremony forthwith: notwithstanding which preventive measures, a nice observer might have remarked, for the remainder of the evening, a slight droop about the elbow of the gauze balloon, which had the misfortune to be nearest the a.s.sailant. The introduction made, a card was instantly presented by Mrs. Dorothea to each gentleman, and with a slight bow pocketed by him. At length, however, one beau arrived, whom it was Mrs. Dorothea's turn to introduce to Lady Arden. She did so with great pomp and circ.u.mstance, as well as with evident triumph. The gentleman, whose name was Cameron, was rather on the wrong side of fifty-five, with a bald head, and blinking eyes, an Indian complexion, and small features; but a certain smirking expression withal, and an air of youthful activity, which denoted that he was still a bachelor.

We did our friend Cameron injustice when we said that he was bald; for he was still in possession of certainly not less than three hairs on either side his head. While, as to the high estimation in which those said hairs were held by their owner, no one could entertain a doubt, who had ever seen the establishment kept expressly for their due culture and arrangement. In the first place, Mr. Archibald Cameron's dressing table was adorned with a display of no less than four large-sized, patent, penetrating hair brushes, of the latest and most improved kind; next, were ranges of bottles of self-curling fluid, _huile antique a la rose_, &c. and pots of _pommade aux mille fleurs_, with combs of every description; to say nothing of a sly little one in a case for the waistcoat pocket, which, on all such occasions as morning visits, state dinners, &c, was taken out in the hall, and used with the a.s.sistance of a pocket gla.s.s, drawn from the fellow pocket, to coax the two said side locks upwards, and by pointing them towards each other, induce them, as nearly as possible, to meet over the centre of the naked polished forehead. But as this was an undertaking too difficult to be always achieved with perfect success, the restive curls not unfrequently stood on end with the most obstinate pertinacity, like the p.r.i.c.ked-up ears of a listening cur. There was no help for this; for when the curls refused to be coaxed, they were too great favourites to be quarrelled with, so they were; just obliged to be allowed to have their own way.

While Mr. Cameron stood speaking to Lady Arden and Mrs. Dorothea, the latter lady looked frequently about her, with evident anxiety. At length she made what she intended for a private signal with her fan to Madeline, whom she espied walking up and down, leaning on the arm of her last partner, one of those unhappy young men, _no match for any one_, of whom the most prudent mothers are, notwithstanding, obliged to admit a certain number when they give a ball, merely as dancing machines. This is one very serious objection to giving absolute b.a.l.l.s at all: it being rather awkward to cut people whom one has exhibited at one's own house.

We question, therefore, whether it would not be more prudent in ladies with unmarried daughters to resign, altogether, the eclat of ball-giving, and limit themselves to a select quadrille, got up _purposely_ by accident; in which every partner for the dance should be a desirable partner for life: in case it should so happen.

Madeline, in obedience to her aunt's summons, approached: Mrs. Dorothea, with the greatest stateliness, held out her elbow, of which her niece accepted the proffered support, making at the same time a slight courtesy to her late partner, as at once a dismissal, and a recompence for past services. He accordingly perceiving he was _de trop_ took himself off. Aunt Dorothea, now glancing at Madeline with the side of her eye, drew herself up, pursed her mouth, and looked amazingly consequential; at length, after a delay sufficient in her opinion to take off all particularity, she availed herself of a pause in the conversation, and after remarking to Mr. Cameron, that she supposed he was a dancing man, presented him to Madeline. Had Cameron been but three-and-twenty he might have affected indifference about, or even a dislike to, the particular modification of locomotion alluded to; but as any demur at his particular stage of existence might have given occasion for ill-natured people to surmise that his dancing days were over, he declared himself a most devoted votary of the mirth-promoting rites of the light fantastic toe, and asking Madeline to dance, led her towards the ball-room.

"Well," said Mrs. Dorothea, to Lady Arden, "I have managed that so nicely."

"And who, my dear madam, is that comical quizz?" demanded her ladys.h.i.+p.

"Quizz, indeed! I should not have introduced Mr. Cameron to my niece,"

said Mrs. Dorothea, haughtily, "had he not been a man of high connexions, unexceptionable character, and very large fortune."

"I have not the slightest doubt of your prudence, my dear ma'am, I merely alluded to his appearance."

"I see nothing the matter with his appearance, ma'am."

"The matter, oh, no; merely he is a droll looking being: but what did you say was his fortune?"

"While Governor of Madras he is said to have realised about fifty thousand pounds, and a short time before he returned from India, he succeeded unexpectedly to the family property, about seven thousand a-year, beside which, now that his elder brother is dead, he is heir to his uncle, Lord Dunsmoor, whose t.i.tle and estates, of full thirty thousand per annum, he must inherit. That is a sort of quizz which I think your ladys.h.i.+p will allow is not to be met with every day."

"No, certainly, as you say. If he should take a fancy to Madeline, I hope she won't think him too old."

"If Madeline should, like many other young people, be very silly, I should hope she would have your ladys.h.i.+p to think for her."

All this was of course said aside, and _sotto voce_. Had the situation been better adapted to confidential conversation, much more would have been said, particularly by Aunt Dorothea, who considered Mr. Cameron the very first prize in life's lottery.

At two or three-and-twenty, when a poor younger brother and "_no match for any one_," he had been a pa.s.sionate lover of Aunt Dorothea, then a beautiful girl of nineteen. But a marriage at that time would have been too imprudent a thing to be thought of, and so they parted. This was five-and-thirty years ago. For about the first ten years both parties had been very faithful; but the affair had since, like most early engagements, died a natural death.

Aunt Dorothea, to do her justice, had too much good sense to dream of any one continuing to be a lover of hers at her present age. And as for Cameron, although a halo of romance had lingered around the remembered image of his "First Love," even 'till their meeting on the very morning of the evening we are now describing; it was the blooming girl of nineteen whom his fancy still painted, such as she had looked five-and-thirty years before; when vowing eternal truth, he had bade her a long farewell. One sight of our respectable friend Mrs. Dorothea Arden, now fifty-four years of age, banished in an instant every romantic idea as a.s.sociated with the personal attractions of that lady.

The former lovers became, however, at once excellent friends; and in the course of that day Aunt Dorothea laid her plan for making up a match between one, whom she considered a sort of valuable heir-loom that ought not to be allowed to go out of the family, and her favourite niece, Madeline, who had always been reckoned like Mrs. Dorothea, and her aunt knew her to be still disengaged.

Woman--the delicate day lily, blooms her hour--fades, and disappears for ever from beauty's garden! Man--the hardy evergreen braves the cold storm of disappointment--stands through the long winter of delay--and when his genial season of prosperity at last arrives, finds fair companions still in the smiling buds of each succeeding spring.

CHAPTER VIII.

Madeline was considered by every one very like her aunt. To Cameron she was the vision of his early days, restored unchanged.

The years of past toil faded to a dream--the polished barrenness of the forehead--the scanty growth and restive sit of the side locks--nay, certain twitches of rheumatism in the knee and ancle joints were all forgotten; he felt himself five-and-twenty, and not a day more! He was in an ecstacy--a delirium;--in short, he was desperately in love. He danced like a Vestris, and between the regular evolutions of the quadrille, frisked about his partner, a perfect gra.s.shopper: for such was his excessive eagerness to oblige, that he waited not between each service rendered to make the obsequious angle of knee or elbow straight again, but fetched and carried with the docility of a spaniel, in att.i.tudes which, could he but have seen himself in a mirror, must have made even himself laugh. The performance ended, Madeline took his arm and walked towards aunt Dorothea, with a strange, conscious, half-pouting expression of countenance, evidently not knowing whether she ought to be flattered or annoyed by the conspicuous a.s.siduities of her old beau.

Cameron was sent in pursuit of a pa.s.sing tray to procure an ice. With an air of infinite triumph Mrs. Dorothea patted the dimpled cheek of her niece, and whispered, "I wish you joy, my dear, of your brilliant conquest, for I do think Mr. Cameron seems to be quite smitten already."

"Oh, but aunt, such an old man!"

"Nonsense, my dear, we were all young once, and you won't be young always recollect, so mind what you're about."

The return of Cameron put an end to the lecture, which was only however postponed to a more convenient opportunity. This occurred on the dispersion of the company, when the family party collected at one end of a long deserted supper table to talk over the events of the evening.