CHAPTER XVI

MISS NIPHET--THE THEATRE--THE LAKE--DIVIDED ATTRACTION--INFALLIBLE

SAFETY

Amiam: che non ha tregua

Con gli anni umana vita, e si dilegua.

Amiam: che il sol si muore, e poi rinasce;

A noi sua breve luce

S'asconde, e il sonno eterna notte adduce.

Tasso: Aminta.

Love, while youth knows its prime,

For mortal life can make no truce with time.

Love: for the sun goes down to rise as bright;

To us his transient light

Is veiled, and sleep comes on with everlasting night.

Lord Curryfin was too much a man of the world to devote his attentions

in society exclusively to one, and make them the subject of special

remark. He left the inner drawing-room, and came up to the doctor to ask

him if he knew the young lady who had sung the last ballad. The doctor

knew her well. She was Miss Niphet, the only daughter of a gentleman of

fortune, residing a few miles distant.

_Lord Curryfin._ As I looked at her while she was singing, I thought of

Southey's description of Laila's face in _Thadaba_:

A broad light floated o'er its marble paleness,

As the wind waved the fountain fire.

Marble paleness suits her well. There is something statuesque in her

whole appearance. I could not help thinking what an admirable Camilla

she would make in Cimarosa's _Orazii._ Her features are singularly

regular. They had not much play, but the expression of her voice was

such as if she felt the full force of every sentiment she uttered.

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I consider her to be a person of very deep

feeling, which she does not choose should appear on the surface. She

is animated in conversation when she is led into it. Otherwise, she is

silent and retiring, but obliging in the extreme; always ready to take

part in anything that is going forward She never needs, for example,

being twice asked to sing. She is free from the vice which Horace

ascribes to all singers, of not complying when asked, and never leaving

off when they have once begun. If this be a general rule, she is an

exception to it.

_Lord Curryfin._ I rather wonder she does not tinge her cheeks with a

slight touch of artificial red, just as much as would give her a sort of

blush-rose complexion.

_Miss Ilex._ You will not wonder when you know her better. The

artificial, the false in any degree, however little, is impossible to

her. She does not show all she thinks and feels, but what she does show

is truth itself.

_Lord Curryfin._ And what part is she to take in the Aristophanic

comedy?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ She is to be the leader of the chorus.

_Lord Curryfin._ I have not seen her at the rehearsals.

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ So far, her place has been supplied. You will

see her at the next.

In the meantime, Mr. Falconer had gone into the inner drawing-room, sat

down by Miss Gryll, and entered into conversation with her. The doctor

observed them from a distance, but with all the opportunity he had

had for observation, he was still undetermined in his opinion of the

impression they might have made on each other.

'It is well,' he said to himself, 'that Miss Ilex is an old maid. If

she were as young as Morgana, I think she would win our young friend's

heart. Her mind is evidently much to his mind. But so would Morgana's

be, if she could speak it as freely. She does not; why not? To him at

any rate. She seems under no restraint to _Lord Curryfin._ A good omen,

perhaps. I never saw a couple so formed for each other. Heaven help me!

I cannot help harping on that string. After all, the Vestals are the

obstacle.'

Lord Curryfin, seeing Miss Niphet sitting alone at the side of the room,

changed his place, sate down by her, and entered into conversation on

the topics of the day, novels, operas, pictures, and various phenomena

of London life. She kept up the ball with him very smartly. She was

every winter, May, and June, in London, mixed much in society, and saw

everything that was to be seen. Lord Curryfin, with all his Protean

accomplishments, could not start a subject on which she had not

something to say. But she originated nothing. He spoke, and she

answered. One thing he remarked as singular, that though she spoke with

knowledge of many things, she did not speak as with taste or distaste

of any. The world seemed to flow under her observation without even

ruffling the surface of her interior thoughts. This perplexed his

versatile lordship. He thought the young lady would be a subject worth

studying: it was clear that she was a character. So far so well. He felt

that he should not rest satisfied till he was able to define it.

[Illustration: Mr. Pallet devoted to the Scenery 141-108]

The theatre made rapid progress. The walls were completed. The building

was roofed in. The stage portion was so far finished as to allow Mr.

Pallet to devote every morning to the scenery. The comedy was completed.

The music was composed. The rehearsals went on with vigour, but for the

present in the drawing-rooms.

[Illustration: Lord Curryfin swinging over the stage 144-108]

Miss Niphet, returning one morning from a walk before breakfast, went

into the theatre to see its progress, and found Lord Curryfin swinging

over the stage on a seat suspended by long ropes from above the visible

scene. He did not see her. He was looking upwards, not as one indulging

in an idle pastime, but as one absorbed in serious meditation. All at

once the seat was drawn up, and he disappeared in the blue canvas that

represented the sky. She was not aware that gymnastics were to form part

of the projected entertainment, and went away, associating the idea of

his lordship, as many had done before, with something like a feeling of

the ludicrous.

Miss Niphet was not much given to laughter, but whenever she looked

at Lord Curryfin during breakfast she could not quite suppress a smile

which hovered on her lips, and which was even the more forced on her by

the contrast between his pantomimic disappearance and his quiet courtesy

and remarkably good manners in company. The lines of Dryden--

A man so various, that he seemed to be

Not one, but all mankind's epitome,

--passed through her mind as she looked at him.

Lord Curryfin noticed the suppressed smile, but did not apprehend that

it had any relation to himself. He thought some graceful facetiousness

had presented itself to the mind of the young lady, and that she was

amusing herself with her own fancy. It was, however, to him another

touch of character, that lighted up her statuesque countenance with

a new and peculiar beauty. By degrees her features resumed their

accustomed undisturbed serenity. Lord Curryfin felt satisfied that

in that aspect he had somewhere seen something like her, and after

revolving a series of recollections, he remembered that it was a statue

of Melpomene.

There was in the park a large lake, encircled with varieties of

woodland, and by its side was a pavilion, to which Miss Niphet often

resorted to read in an afternoon. And at no great distance from it was

the boat-house, to which Lord Curryfin often resorted for a boat, to row

or sail on the water. Passing the pavilion in the afternoon, he saw

the young lady, and entering into conversation, ascertained what had so

amused her in the morning. He told her he had been trying--severally

by himself, and collectively with the workmen--the strength of the

suspending lines for the descent of the Chorus of Clouds in the

Aristophanic comedy. She said she had been very ungrateful to laugh at

the result of his solicitude for the safety of herself and her young

friends. He said that in having moved her to smile, even at his expense,

he considered himself amply repaid.

From this time they often met in the pavilion, that is to say, he often

found her reading there on his way to a boat, and stopped awhile to

converse with her. They had always plenty to say, and it resulted that

he was always sorry to leave her, and she was always sorry to part

with him. By degrees the feeling of the ludicrous ceased to be the

predominant sentiment which she associated with him. _L'amour vient sans

qu'on y pense_.

The days shortened, and all things were sufficiently advanced to admit

of rehearsals in the theatre. The hours from twelve to two--from noon to

luncheon--were devoted to this pleasant pastime. At luncheon there was

much merriment over the recollections of the morning's work, and after

luncheon there was walking in the park, rowing or sailing on the lake,

riding or driving in the adjacent country, archery in a spacious field;

and in bad weather billiards, reading in the library, music in the

drawing-rooms, battledore and shuttlecock in the hall; in short, all the

methods of passing time agreeably which are available to good company,

when there are ample means and space for their exercise; to say

nothing of making love, which Lord Curryfin did with all delicacy and

discretion--directly to Miss Gryll, as he had begun, and indirectly

to Miss Niphet, for whom he felt an involuntary and almost unconscious

admiration. He had begun to apprehend that with the former he had a

dangerous rival in the Hermit of the Folly, and he thought the latter

had sufficient charms to console even Orlando for the loss of Angelica.

In short, Miss Gryll had first made him think of marriage, and whenever

he thought his hopes were dim in that quarter, he found an antidote to

despair in the contemplation of the statue-like damsel.

Mr. Falconer took more and more pleasure in Miss Gryll's society, but he

did not declare himself. He was more than once on the point of doing so,

but the images of the Seven Sisters rose before him, and he suspended

the intention. On these occasions he always went home for a day or two

to fortify his resolution against his heart. Thus he passed his time

between the Grange and the Tower, 'letting I dare not wait upon I

would.'

Miss Gryll had listened to _Lord Curryfin._ She had neither encouraged

nor discouraged him. She thought him the most amusing person she had

ever known. She liked his temper, his acquirements, and his manners.

She could not divest herself of that feeling of the ludicrous which

everybody seemed to associate with him; but she thought the chances of

life presented little hope of a happier marriage than a woman who would

fall in with his tastes and pursuits--which, notwithstanding their

tincture of absurdity, were entertaining and even amiable--might hope

for with him. Therefore she would not say No, though, when she thought

of Mr. Falconer, she could not say Yes.

Lord Curryfin invented a new sail of infallible safety, which resulted,

like most similar inventions, in capsizing the inventor on the first

trial. Miss Niphet, going one afternoon, later than usual, to her

accustomed pavilion, found his lordship scrambling up the bank, and his

boat, keel upwards, at some little distance in the lake.

[Illustration: Found his lordship scrambling up the bank 148-119]

For a moment her usual self-command forsook her. She held out both her

hands to assist him up the bank, and as soon as he stood on dry land,

dripping like a Triton in trousers, she exclaimed in such a tone as he

had never before heard, 'Oh! my dear lord!' Then, as if conscious of her

momentary aberration, she blushed with a deeper blush than that of the

artificial rose which he had once thought might improve her complexion.

She attempted to withdraw her hands, but he squeezed them both ardently,

and exclaimed in his turn, like a lover in a tragedy--

'Surely, till now I never looked on beauty.'

She was on the point of saying, 'Surely, before now you have looked on

Miss Gryll,' but she checked herself. She was content to receive the

speech as a sudden ebullition of gratitude for sympathy, and disengaging

her hands, she insisted on his returning immediately to the house to

change his 'dank and dripping weeds.'

As soon as he was out of sight she went to the boat-house, to summon the

men who had charge of it to the scene of the accident. Putting off in

another boat, they brought the capsized vessel to land, and hung up the

sail to dry. She returned in the evening, and finding the sail dry, she

set it on fire. Lord Curryfin, coming down to look after his tackle,

found the young lady meditating over the tinder. She said to him--

[Illustration: That sail will never put you under the water again

150-120]

He was touched by this singular development of solicitude for his

preservation, but could not help saying something in praise of his

invention, giving a demonstration of the infallibility of the principle,

with several scientific causes of error in working out the practice. He

had no doubt it would be all right on another experiment. Seeing that

her looks expressed unfeigned alarm at this announcement, he assured

her that her kind interest in his safety was sufficient to prevent his

trying his invention again. They walked back together to the house, and

in the course of conversation she said to him--

'The last time I saw the words Infallible Safety, they were painted

on the back of a stage-coach which, in one of our summer tours, we saw

lying by the side of the road, with its top in a ditch, and its wheels

in the air.'

The young lady was still a mystery to _Lord Curryfin._

'Sometimes,' he said to himself, 'I could almost fancy Melpomene in love

with me. But I have seldom seen her laugh, and when she has done so now

and then, it has usually been at me. That is not much like love. Her

last remark was anything but a compliment to my inventive genius.'

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