Dilemmas of Pride Volume I Part 4

"Well, that is really provoking!" exclaimed Miss Salter. "I wonder would there be any use in sending her an invitation for this evening?"

"Sending who an invitation?" said Grace. "Mrs. Dorothea do you mean? Oh, quite ridiculous at this late hour; and after leaving her out of the ball too!"

"I know all that," replied Miss Salter; "but let me see, I'll write her a long apology about having sent a card for our ball to her old lodging in mistake! and for the short notice I'll say, that I know she likes friendly invitations better than formal ones, and that our party this evening is to be so particularly select, just what I know she likes; and then I'll give a list of the t.i.tles, and that I think will decide her, even if she does see through the excuses."

Accordingly Miss Salter, in great triumph at her own diplomatic abilities, wrote and dispatched her note.

"After all," she added, as she resumed her toilette, "these are sorrowful rejoicings for us, for I suppose with this fine lady coming to dinner, and being so gracious, and all that, she means to marry my father; and if she does, though to be sure it'ill bring fine acquaintance, I suppose, but will it bring us husbands?--on the contrary, if it gets abroad that we're not to have a s.h.i.+lling--"

"We'll have but a poor chance, I'm afraid," interrupted Grace.

"But I'll tell you what I have done to endeavour to obviate that," said her sister; "I have been telling Johnson, and I have told her too that she may tell it where she pleases, for it's no harm that the truth should be known, that our mother's fortune was a hundred thousand pounds, and was so settled upon us that my father can't keep it from us; and she has begun already with Sir William Orm's man, and he has told his master, and Sir William is full of it; so we shall see how he behaves to-day."

"But what a shocking lie!" said Grace.

"Lie! Nonsense!" replied her sister, "Who tells the truth, I'd be glad to know?"

Here the answer to the note interrupted the conversation. It was of course a formal apology. Mrs. Dorothea had not been at a loss to see through the motives of her _friends_ the Salters.

The _young_ ladies now descended to the drawing-room, where Mr. Salter was already standing at a window, in high dress; with the bright white, angular points of a fresh put on collar, contrasting finely with the s.h.i.+ning ruby of his cheeks. A carriage with a coronet drove up to the door; bless me, how fine! thought the Misses Salter; it was almost enough to reconcile their father's marrying again.

Lady Flamborough was announced. Her ladys.h.i.+p entered; her round, fat, rosy face, smiling in a round wreath of red roses. Her dress, a colour de rose satin, her ornaments, necklace and earrings of pink topaz.

The broad daylight, or rather suns.h.i.+ne, of the first day in May, in weather unusually fine, and even hot for the season, in a three windowed, south-west drawing room, at six o'clock, did ample justice to the glow of her ladys.h.i.+p's appearance, which nothing less than the entrance, immediately after, of Lady Whaleworthy, in a crimson velvet, could have at all subdued.

Lady Shawbridge arrived next. Her dress was a gold coloured velvet, and gold tissue turban, the wide circ.u.mference of which displayed the fiery countenance hinted at by Mrs. Dorothea to great advantage. Indeed the whole a.s.sembly was of a fiery order; although being, as we have said, hot weather, there was no occasion for fire. But the very furniture of the room, unluckily for the day and aspect, was crimson, while in addition to the red and reddish countenances already enumerated, Miss Salter's face, on all warm occasions like the present, was much too apt to emulate the glow of her father's. While even poor Miss Grace, though in general, from hardness and thinness, a chilly object, was subject with peculiar provocation, to a dullish red k.n.o.b, like a winter cherry, just at the end of her nose.

The rest of the party having arrived, and among them Sir William Orm, Sir James Lindsey, Sir Francis Brierton, and the general, dinner was announced. Mr. Salter gave his arm to Lady Flamborough, and leading the way, was followed by the rest of the company, to the dining-room; which, having the same aspect as the drawing-room, and being, besides over the kitchen, was by no means calculated to cool the already heated guests.

The two turtles, we mean Mr. Salter and Lady Flamborough, every way so well _ent.i.tled_ to the _t.i.tle_, being in their forms turtles, and in their present dispositions towards each other turtle doves, took their loving seats side by side, opposite to the turtle-soup, at the head of the table. (Men who have no wives of course head their own tables.)

The dinner having been entirely provided at so much a-head, by a pastrycook, who was to remove its remains, was of course only too good, we mean too fine, too much ornamented, too technical; in fact the display of each course resembled more a confectioner's counter than a gentleman's table. Every thing, in short, was so befrosted, and so beglazed, that if one had been at all absent, one might have put one's hand in one's pocket, and asked what was to pay.

It is an acknowledged fact, that to act the gentleman is impossible. It is equally impossible for people, though possessed of the purse of Fortunatus, to ape successfully, on special occasions, a style of living not habitual to them.

We hope we have not cooled the turtle-soup by our digression. Poor Mr.

Salter, instead of quietly conveying ladles of soup to soup-plates, till the demand ceased, was most unnecessarily prolonging his own labours, and delaying the progress of the feast, by deliberately inquiring of every several member of the a.s.sembly by name, if they chose turtle-soup, and poising the while, his insignia of office over the tureen, till their ear caught the question and his the reply.

By the time similar rites had been performed over every steaming remove, it may be believed that the countenance of our host had lost nothing of its brilliancy. During the dessert he had more leisure to turn its l.u.s.tre, adorned with smiles, on his fair companion; whose uplifted eyes languis.h.i.+ngly met his, till there wanted but the pipe to make the pair an excellent study for a painter of the Dutch school. The att.i.tude too, leaning back at their ease in their chairs, so favourably displayed their forms, that the couple in this particular very much resembled a _pair of globes_; though we must confess that, except in courtesy to the lady, we should not have been disposed to designate either the celestial.

Sir William Orm, who had handed in Miss Salter, was descanting with much feeling on the interested motives which governed the matrimonial views of but too many men in the world, and declaring that such must ever be secondary considerations with him. Miss Salter confessed that amiable sentiments like his were very rare now a days, and consequently the more to be admired. On the opposite side, Sir James Lindsey was giggling with silly self-satisfaction, as he sat receiving the a.s.siduous attentions and pointed compliments of Miss Grace. While Lady Shawbridge was remarking aside to Sir Matthias Whaleworthy, that Lady Flamborough's youthful airs were quite disgusting; and Sir Matthias in return, made some comments on Mr. Salter's dancing, which sounded very ungrateful, proceeding from lips which had just finished a _second_ plate of the man's turtle-soup.

Lady Whaleworthy, good soul, was telling Sir Henry Shawbridge one of the long stories about herself, her father and mother, brothers and sisters, husband, children, and servants, which she inflicted on all who had the misfortune to sit near, and the patience to listen to her.

Ere the ladies left the dining-room, the now completely enamoured Mr.

Salter had determined, that in the course of the evening he would take a sly opportunity of making Lady Flamborough an offer of his heart and hand. Alas! how vain are human resolves, when we know not what an hour or at most an hour and a half may bring forth; for it could not have exceeded that time, when the gentlemen followed the ladies to the drawing-room, and yet Mr. Salter's visual organs by some process, possibly connected with a certain series of toasts, which despite of fas.h.i.+on, he might have felt it his duty to propose, had in that short period undergone such an extraordinary change, that when he approached what ought to have been the _sole_ object of his affections, he beheld as it were two Lady Flamboroughs, sitting, or rather attempting to sit, on the same chair! He gazed in utter amazement, and strove to concentrate the powers of sight: for a second the mysterious vision amalgamated, and was but one! again, however, it glided asunder, and became two! nor did this happen but once, so as to leave any room for doubt or mistake, on the contrary, while our astonished host still stood staring, the extraordinary process was frequently repeated. Nay, once, as lured by the smiles of the fair shadow nearest him, he ventured to address some complimentary remark to its ear in particular, it slid away as if for refuge behind its representative, and immediately after popped in view on the other side!

Whether it is that supernatural appearances have a tendency to awe the pa.s.sions into stillness, or whether this glaring infringement on the cla.s.sical laws of unity, by dividing, destroyed the interest; or whether possibly, some vague dread of being betrayed unconsciously into the sin of bigamy, might have presented itself to the imagination of Mr. Salter, we have not philosophical lore nor critical ac.u.men sufficient to decide; we can only speak to the effect, which was, that Mr. Salter, instead of finding with this double provocation a double share of love inundating his heart and overflowing his lips, was struck perfectly mute, and continued so for the remainder of the evening.

So much for lovers continuing their libations at Bacchus' shrine until they see double.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Well, there is nothing like getting into _select_ society after all!"

said Miss Salter to her sister, when they had retired for the night.

"Who would have thought, six months ago, of both of us having baronets for lovers? I dare say you are right, Grace, and that this marriage of my father's (for I suppose now it will take place), is the best thing that could have happened for us. And I know, I'm determined when I'm married to Sir William Orm (and he has gone great lengths, I a.s.sure you), that I will visit none but t.i.tled people. And tell me, how did you and Sir James get on?"

"Oh, delightfully!" answered her sister, "he asked me if I thought him very handsome; and of course I said I did; and then he laughed so. And then he asked me if I thought the silk of his waistcoat a pretty pattern; and I said I did; and he told me a lady chose it for him. And he asked me if I was inclined to be jealous; and I said if I thought he had any regard for me, I'd be jealous of every lady that looked at him; and he said, 'would you indeed?' and laughed again. And he asked me if I admired his dancing as much as most people did, for that he was thought a first rate dancer; and I said that n.o.body could help admiring his dancing. And he asked me if I could think what in the world it was that made so many young ladies refuse to dance with him; and I said it was, to be sure, because he danced so well that they were afraid it would make their own bad dancing the more noticed. 'And do you really think so?' said he, laughing again. And so, at last, only think! he asked me if I'd like very much to be my lady! and I said I should of all things.

And so then he laughed, and said he could make any body a lady he chose."

"And I hope you said you wished he'd make you one," interrupted her sister.

"Why I thought of it," replied Miss Grace, "but I was afraid people would hear me; if we had been quite by ourselves, I would have said it."

"What nonsense!" exclaimed Miss Salter. "If you can get to be my lady, and have fifteen thousand a-year at your command, I think you can afford to defy people's comments about how you came by it! You said, the other day, that if luck knocked once at your door, it shouldn't have to knock twice. I'm sure it knocked then, with a vengeance, and such a knock as comes to the doors of but few, I can tell you; and you the fool not to answer it. It's such as you'll never hear again, with your little ugly black-a-moor face. And when you had the good fortune to get hold of a fool that didn't know the difference, if you dosed his draught with flattery enough, you should have said or done anything to please him, blockhead that you are."

"You needn't be so abusive, Eliza," said poor Grace, almost whimpering, "I'm sure I thought I was barefaced enough, this time, to please you."

"Such stuff, with your mock modesty," interrupted Miss Salter.

"And as for a black face, it's as good as a red one, any day," continued Grace, "and rather _genteeler_ for that matter," she added, "since you're grown so mighty fond of gentility."

Miss Salter's rage now knew no bounds, and consequently became so coa.r.s.e and disgusting in its manifestation, that we shall forbear any further representation of the scene.

Vulgar people are bad enough in good humour. Propitious fate deliver us from them when they are out of temper!

Before proceeding further with our history, we may as well take the present opportunity of sketching slightly the origin of this same t.i.tled personage, by a connection with whom the Misses Salter expected to gain so much consequence. Lady Flamborough was the only child of an hotel-keeper, who, in his hospitable calling, had ama.s.sed enormous wealth. He had not always, however, been the great man, even in his own line, which he ultimately became. His daughter, therefore, to the age of five or six, was brought up, literally running about in a very minor establishment, little better, in short, than a road-side posting-house; and, being a pretty, rosy, fat child, had, up to that age, been the pet and plaything, not only of her father, (she had no mother living), but of every waiter and hostler in and about the house. And often had she sat on her father's knee, while he drank his ale in the bar, and, when the jest and the tale went round, which were, as yet, to the ear of the child, a foreign tongue, laughed merrily for very glee at seeing others laugh. But alas! amid the sounds and sights of scenes like these, native delicacy, even at this early age, was lost. For callousness is not so much a wrong bias given, as a cla.s.s of feelings, out of which some of the most valuable traits of character are hereafter to be formed, destroyed; and if the material be gone, how can the superstructure be raised?

The child was, after this, sent to expensive boarding-schools, and as her father's fortunes rose, given every possible accomplishment. In these, and her being very pretty, Mr. * * * *, afterwards Lord Flamborough, but then a younger brother, and of course poor, found some apology for overlooking the lady's want of birth, and appropriating her immense wealth, which was his true object.

Soon after his marriage, his brother died, and he succeeded to the t.i.tle and estates; and now, bitterly repenting his ill-a.s.sorted union, behaved with neglect, and even contempt, towards his wife. Upon which the lady, partly out of revenge, and partly out of levity, gave a favourable reception to the addresses of a lover in no very exalted sphere of life.

Proceedings were immediately inst.i.tuted to obtain legal redress; but before the divorce had pa.s.sed the house, his lords.h.i.+p, who had previously been in a bad state of health, chanced to die.

Lady Flamborough, therefore, though of course banished from all tolerable society, still continued to be Lady Flamborough, and to enjoy a handsome jointure. On her total expulsion from the set among whom her marriage had, for a time, given her a place, she descended till she found her level among that, rationally speaking, only disreputable cla.s.s, made up of those who have lost caste by their own wilful departures from principle, and those who are contemptible enough to be willing to a.s.sociate with vice, for the love of the _tarnished tinsel_ which once was rank; forgetful that t.i.tles and honours were first invented as badges of the virtuous or heroic deeds of those on whom they were bestowed; that only as such they have any meaning; and that, when borne by the vicious, they become, in a peculiar degree, objects for the finger of scorn to point at, and seem to claim, as their especial privilege, the contempt and derision of mankind.

"'Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great."

t.i.tles are attainted for high treason, why should they not be so for every treason against good morals? Are not good morals as essential to the well-being of the community as good Government?

Nay, what is Government? Power to enforce moral order. Why then should not a sin against the end be visited as severely as a sin against the means?

Are men, whose vices invade the peace of the domestic hearth, and sunder the sacred ties of life,--or men who court luxury in foreign climes, while evading the payment of their just debts at home; consigning the while industrious tradesmen and their helpless families to ruin;--are men, in short, who are no longer men of honour, to be still misnamed _n.o.ble men_? Is it not the natural tendency of such misnomers to bring n.o.bility into contempt? And is not this an injustice to the truly _n.o.ble_?

Are the vicious to be allowed to sully honours till the honourable cannot wear them?