Randal reached home in time to dress for a late dinner at Baron Levy's.
The Baron's style of living was of that character especially affected
both by the most acknowledged exquisites of that day, and, it must be
owned, also, by the most egregious _parvenus_. For it is noticeable that
it is your _parvenu_ who always comes nearest in fashion (so far as
externals are concerned) to your genuine exquisite. It is your _parvenu_
who is most particular as to the cut of his coat, and the precision of
his equipage, and the minutiae of his _menage_. Those between the
_parvenu_ and the exquisite, who know their own consequence, and have
something solid to rest upon, are slow in following all the caprices of
fashion, and obtuse in observation as to those niceties which neither
give them another ancestor, nor add another thousand to the account at
their banker's;--as to the last, rather indeed the contrary! There was a
decided elegance about the Baron's house and his dinner. If he had been
one of the lawful kings of the dandies, you would have cried, "What
perfect taste!"--but such is human nature, that the dandies who dined
with him said to each other, "He pretend to imitate D----! vulgar dog!"
There was little affectation of your more showy opulence. The furniture
in the rooms was apparently simple, but, in truth, costly, from its
luxurious comfort--the ornaments and china scattered about the commodes
were of curious rarity and great value; and the pictures on the walls
were gems. At dinner, no plate was admitted on the table. The Russian
fashion, then uncommon, now more prevalent, was adopted--fruits and
flowers in old Sevre dishes of priceless _vertu_, and in sparkling
glass, of Bohemian fabric. No livery servant was permitted to wait;
behind each guest stood a gentleman dressed so like the guest himself,
in fine linen and simple black, that guest and lacquey seemed
stereotypes from one plate.
The viands were exquisite; the wine came from the cellars of deceased
archbishops and ambassadors. The company was select; the party did not
exceed eight. Four were the eldest sons of peers (from a baron to a
duke); one was a professed wit, never to be got without a month's
notice, and, where a _parvenu_ was host, a certainty of green pease and
peaches--out of season; the sixth, to Randal's astonishment, was Mr.
Richard Avenel; himself and the Baron made up the complement.
The eldest sons recognized each other with a meaning smile; the most
juvenile of them, indeed, (it was his first year in London,) had the
grace to blush and look sheepish. The others were more hardened; but
they all united in regarding with surprise both Randal and Dick Avenel.
The former was known most of them personally; and to all, by repute, as
a grave, clever, promising young man, rather prudent than lavish, and
never suspected to have got into a scrape. What the deuce did he do
there? Mr. Avenel puzzled them yet more. A middle-aged man, said to be
in business, whom they had observed "about town" (for he had a
noticeable face and figure)--that is, seen riding in the park, or
lounging in the pit at the opera, but never set eyes on at a recognized
club, or in the coteries of their 'set';--a man whose wife gave horrid
third-rate parties, that took up half a column in the _Morning Post_
with a list of "The Company Present,"--in which a sprinkling of dowagers
out of fashion, and a foreign title or two, made the darkness of the
obscurer names doubly dark. Why this man should be asked to meet
_them_, by Baron Levy, too--a decided tuft-hunter and would-be
exclusive--called all their faculties into exercise. The wit, who, being
the son of a small tradesman, but in the very best society, gave himself
far greater airs than the young lords, impertinently solved the mystery.
"Depend on it," whispered he to Spendquick--"depend on it the man is the
X. Y. of the _Times_, who offers to lend any sums of money from L10 to
half-a-million. He's the man who has all your bills; Levy is only his
jackall."
"'Pon my soul," said Spendquick, rather alarmed, "if that's the case,
one may as well be civil to him."
"_You_, certainly," said the wit. "But I never yet found an X. Y. who
would advance me the L. s.; and, therefore, I shall not be more
respectful to X. Y. than to any other unknown quantity."
By degrees, as the wine circulated, the party grew gay and sociable.
Levy was really an entertaining fellow; had all the gossip of the town
at his fingers' ends; and possessed, moreover, that pleasant art of
saying ill-natured things of the absent, which those present always
enjoy. By degrees, too, Mr. Richard Avenel came out; and as the whisper
had circulated round the table that he was X. Y., he was listened to
with a profound respect, which greatly elevated his spirits. Nay, when
the wit tried once to show him up or mystify him, Dick answered with a
bluff spirit, that, though very coarse, was found so humorous by Lord
Spendquick and other gentlemen similarly situated in the money-market,
that they turned the laugh against the wit, and silenced him for the
rest of the night--a circumstance which made the party go off much more
pleasantly. After dinner, the conversation, quite that of single men,
easy and _debonnair_, glanced from the turf, and the ballet, and the
last scandal, towards politics; for the times were such that politics
were discussed everywhere, and three of the young lords were county
members.
Randal said little, but, as was his wont, listened attentively; and he
was aghast to find how general was the belief that the government was
doomed. Out of regard to him, and with that delicacy of breeding which
belongs to a certain society, nothing personal to Egerton was said,
except by Avenel, who, however, on blurting out some rude expressions
respecting that minister, was instantly checked by the Baron.
"Spare my friend, and Mr. Leslie's near connection," said he, with a
polite but grave smile.
"Oh," said Avenel, "public men, whom we pay, are public property--aren't
they, my lord?" appealing to Spendquick.
"Certainly," said Spendquick, with great spirit--"public property, or
why should we pay them? There must be a very strong motive to induce us
to do that! I hate paying people. In fact," he subjoined in an aside, "I
never do!"
"However," resumed Mr. Avenel, graciously, "I don't want to hurt your
feelings, Mr. Leslie. As to the feelings of our host, the Baron, I
calculate that they have got tolerably tough by the exercise they have
gone through."
"Nevertheless," said the Baron, joining in the laugh which any lively
saying by the supposed X. Y. was sure to excite--"nevertheless, 'love
me, love my dog,' love me, love my Egerton."
Randal started, for his quick ear and subtle intelligence caught
something sinister and hostile in the tone with which Levy uttered this
equivocal comparison, and his eye darted towards the Baron. But the
Baron had bent down his face, and was regaling himself upon an olive.
By and by the party rose from table. The four young noblemen had their
engagements elsewhere, and proposed to separate without re-entering the
drawing-room. As, in Goethe's theory, monads which have affinities with
each other are irresistibly drawn together, so these gay children of
pleasure had, by a common impulse, on rising from table, moved each to
each, and formed a group round the fireplace. Randal stood a little
apart, musing; the wit examined the pictures through his eye-glass; and
Mr. Avenel drew the Baron towards the sideboard, and there held him in
whispered conference. This colloquy did not escape the young gentlemen
round the fireplace: they glanced towards each other.
"Settling the percentage on renewal," said one, _sotto voce_.
"X. Y. does not seem such a very bad fellow," said another.
"He looks rich, and talks rich," said a third.
"A decided, independent way of expressing his sentiments; those moneyed
men generally have."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated Spendquick, who had been keeping his eye
anxiously fixed on the pair, "do look; X. Y. is actually taking out his
pocket-book; he is coming this way. Depend on it, he has got our
bills--mine is due to-morrow."
"And mine too," said another, edging off. "Why, it is a perfect
_guetapens_."
Meanwhile, breaking away from the Baron, who appeared anxious to detain
him, and, failing in that attempt, turned aside, as if not to see Dick's
movements--a circumstance which did not escape the notice of the group,
and confirmed all their suspicions, Mr. Avenel, with a serious,
thoughtful air, and a slow step, approached the group. Nor did the great
Roman general more nervously "flutter the dove-cotes in Corioli," than
did the advance of the supposed X. Y. agitate the bosoms of Lord
Spendquick and his sympathizing friends. Pocket-book in hand, and
apparently feeling for something formidable within its mystic recesses,
step by step came Dick Avenel towards the fireplace. The group stood
still, fascinated by horror.
"Hum," said Mr. Avenel, clearing his throat.
"I don't like that hum, at all," muttered Spendquick.
"Proud to have made your acquaintance, gentlemen," said Dick, bowing.
The gentlemen, thus addressed, bowed low in return.
"My friend the Baron thought this not exactly the time to"--Dick stopped
a moment; you might have knocked down those four young gentlemen, though
four finer specimens of humanity no aristocracy in Europe could
produce--you might have knocked them down with a feather! "But," renewed
Avenel, not finishing his sentence, "I have made it a rule in life never
to lose securing a good opportunity; in short, to make the most of the
present moment. And," added he with a smile which froze the blood in
Lord Spendquick's veins, "the rule has made me a very warm man!
Therefore, gentlemen, allow me to present you each with one of
these"--every hand retreated behind the back of its well-born
owner--when, to the inexpressible relief of all, Dick concluded with--"a
little _soiree dansante_," and extended four cards of invitation.
"Most happy!" exclaimed Spendquick. "I don't dance in general; but to
oblige X---- I mean to have a better acquaintance, sir, with _you_--I
would dance on the tight-rope."
There was a good-humored, pleasant laugh at Lord Spendquick's
enthusiasm, and a general shaking of hands and pocketing of the
invitation cards.
"You don't look like a dancing man," said Avenel, turning to the wit,
who was plump and somewhat gouty--as wits who dine out five days in the
week generally are; "but we shall have supper at one o'clock."
Infinitely offended and disgusted, the wit replied dryly, "that every
hour of his time was engaged for the rest of the season," and, with a
stiff salutation to the Baron, took his departure. The rest, in good
spirits, hurried away to their respective cabriolets, and Leslie was
following them into the hall, when the Baron, catching bold of him,
said, "Stay, I want to talk to you."