Gloucester Villa, the residence of Mr. Salter, at Cheltenham, was in a
state of high preparation for a dinner to be given to Lady Flamborough.
Mrs. Johnson had no leisure to assist the _young_ ladies to dress, they
were therefore left to perform that office for each other.
"By-the-by, I have been so much hurried, I forgot to tell you," said
Grace, "but Lady Arden is now really coming: Mrs. Dorothea's maid has
been telling Johnson all about it."
"Oh, I dare say it's just talk as usual," said Miss Salter.
"No, no, it's quite certain now," persisted her sister, "for Violet Bank
is taken for her ladyship for six months certain, and the adjoining
villa, Jessamine Bower, for another titled lady; and I daresay they'll
be acquainted, so you see what we've lost!"
"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 titles, 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 shilling--"
"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
shining 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 ladyship 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 sunshine, 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 ladyship'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 circumference of which displayed the fiery
countenance hinted at by Mrs. Dorothea to great advantage. Indeed the
whole assembly 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 knob, 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 _entitled_ to the _title_, 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 assembly 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
lustre, adorned with smiles, on his fair companion; whose uplifted eyes
languishingly met his, till there wanted but the pipe to make the pair
an excellent study for a painter of the Dutch school. The attitude 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 assiduous
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
fashion, 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
passions into stillness, or whether this glaring infringement on the
classical 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 acumen 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.