So fond is youth of novelty, that Alfred and his sisters, though fresh
from all the gaieties a London season has to offer, were quite
impatient, the very morning after their arrival, to visit the public
walks, of which they had had peeps the evening before from Aunt
Dorothea's veranda. They had been told that about seven was the hour.
Accordingly, as it was a fine sunny morning, the girls were all up soon
after six. They had been told too, that notwithstanding the hour, it was
usual to be extremely fine; but for this their habits of good taste
were too inveterate; they equipped themselves therefore in quite close
bonnets, and having roused and enlisted the goodnatured Alfred, set off
for Mrs. Dorothea's, Lady Arden having by an arrangement of the evening
before, committed the young people to the charge of their aunt, knowing
that she should be too much fatigued herself after her journey to rise
so early.
Aunt Dorothea was quite ready. She was too happy in feeling herself
necessary to her nieces, too happy in having the charge of them, too
justly proud of them, proud of their beauty, and all their many
attractions and recommendations, to feel anything like laziness, this
first morning that she was to show, not only the walks to them, but them
to the walks.
Thither then they proceeded immediately, guided through each shady
maze, as in the play called _Magic Music_, in which the sounds become
louder to denote nearness to the object of pursuit. So did the swelling
notes of the band grow on the ear as they approached the immediate spot,
which it is fashion's whim to throng as closely as any crowded
assembly-room, while all around is comparative solitude.
Here all-kind Aunt Dorothea's proud anticipations were fully answered by
the sensation her nieces produced; every eye was turned towards them,
and in ten minutes after their first appearance all the company who sat
on the benches on either side the walk had asked each other who they
were; the mammas who had daughters, and the _young_ ladies who were _not
young_, decided that they were not the style of beauty they admired,
while the very young girls and all the men, had pronounced them the
loveliest creatures they had ever beheld. As for the mothers who had
sons, they prudently suspended their judgments till they should hear
what fortunes the Miss Ardens were likely to have.
Our party were joined instantly by Henry Lindsey. He had ascertained
their movements from themselves, and quitted town when they did to be in
Cheltenham before them. He was at Louisa's side in a moment, and was
received with a blush and a smile which, though produced in part at
least by gratified vanity, seemed to his generous nature all he could
desire of encouragement. He was of course introduced to Aunt Dorothea,
who, until she found out that he was a younger brother, was quite
delighted with him.
The Arden party now took advantage of vacant seats which presented
themselves, and for a time became in their turn spectators of the moving
crowd.
Soon after which, announced by noise, and with many coloured streamers
flying, the fleet of the Salters, and their _select_ friends hove in
sight.
There was in the first place Mr. Salter, with a white hat on, which duly
set off by contrast, that true secret for producing effect, a
countenance, the hue of which we flatter ourselves we need not again
describe. Lady Flamborough embellished his arm; her head thrown back,
and adorned by a pink crape hat and feathers, her eyes raised, and
practising their most becoming roll, her complexion heightened by the
heat of the weather and the long walk up through the Sherbourn. Not
that her dress was oppressive, on the contrary, it was light enough in
all conscience, consisting of the softest India muslin, trimmed with
superfine Mechlin lace, and ornamented at the neck, and at the wrists
round the top, and round the bottom, down the sleeves, and down the
front, with ties, bows, and ends innumerable, of pink ribbon, while a
broad long sash of the same encircled the waist, tied behind in
dancing-school fashion. The dress was made nearly as low round the bust
as a dinner costume, while what shelter there was to compensate for this
was derived from the long pendant white gauze-ribbon strings, and deep
blond-lace edge of the hat, with merely a slight pink gauze-scarf,
scarcely wider or longer than the said strings.
The next in the line (as it approached crossing the walk abreast), was
Lady Whaleworthy, defying hot weather and sunshine in a crimson velvet
pelisse. It was a thing which, as she told her own maid when putting it
on, had cost too much money to be ever either out of season or out of
fashion: it was only your dabs of things which every body could have
that were sure to go out again before you could turn yourself round in
them, so that there was no saving in the end. "I always _tells_ Sir
Matthias that a right good article, cost what it will at the first, is
sure to be the cheapest in the long run."
Poor Lady Whaleworthy! a crimson-velvet pelisse had been the dream of
her youth when she did not think she should ever possess such a
treasure! and still such the hold of early impressions in a
crimson-velvet pelisse was concentrated her ladyship's notions of the
_ne plus ultra_ of magnificence. Next came little Sir James,
fantastically fine, with a lilac figured silk waistcoat, as many gold
chains as a lady, and a glaring brooch, the gift of Miss Grace Salter,
and taken for the purpose of being so bestowed from her own dress, and
with her own brown hands transferred to the breast of his
open-work-fronted and diamond buttoned inner garment; while the little
man, during the whole performance of the flattering operation, had
laughed almost hysterically.
Three titles were very well to muster for a morning walk; so next came
the Misses Salter themselves. They never dressed alike, having each
their own notion of the colours that became them. In shape, however,
both their hats had been made by the same pattern, borrowed for the
purpose from Lady Flamborough's. Miss Salter's was of yellow crape, Sir
William Orm having been his own jockey at a late race, and rode in a
yellow jacket; while Miss Grace's, in compliment to Sir James's
waistcoat was lilac; both, of course, flaunted with feathers, blond, and
streaming strings, and had artificial flowers stuck in the inside. Nor
had such a show of beauty and fashion been a mere lucky hit; the Misses
Salter, on quitting Mrs. Dorothea's, had fully weighed the subject, and
resolved to show the Ardens, who might else be prejudiced against them,
that they were not people to be looked down upon; they had gone to
infinite pains in making their arrangements.
Alas! little did they think that this very morning was marked in the
book of fate to cost them both their lovers: they, too, who had none to
spare. But unhappily ladies so situated are so fond of showing off a
supposed conquest--so fond of being suspected of being about to be
married, that in their haste to be congratulated, they too often cast
away all cause for gratulation; and by the noise they raise themselves,
put a man on his guard before he is above half caught, whom they might
perhaps have secured, had they been satisfied to delay their triumph,
and keep him nodding at the home fireside till they had quietly netted
him round. We speak of course only of ladies in _distress_, like the
Misses Salter. The lovely sisters of Arden, on the contrary, so far from
being under the necessity of laying snares for lovers, found them at
their feet wherever they went; the only difficulty was to select from
among them such as might both please themselves, and come up to their
mamma's and brother's ideas of matches suitable to their family
consequence. We left our party seated on one of the benches, which, as
we have already stated, were ranged on either side this favourite
portion of the walk. The eye of Sir James, as he passed with the
Salters, was instantly caught by the extreme loveliness of the beautiful
sisters. For the poor little man, though he had neither sense nor
judgment to direct him in the formation of any thing approaching to an
opinion, was not without some of the natural elements of taste, and was
especially a great admirer of beauty: it dazzled and delighted him, as
new and splendid toys would a child; and it was much that he had been
taught to say, like the good child, "I'll only look!" for he would often
stand with his hands behind his back, as if the attitude were intended
to keep them out of the way of temptation, and to stare at strangers
whose appearance happened to strike him, till people would be first
offended, and finally guess the truth, that poor Sir James was silly.
On the present occasion, seeing his brother with the party which had
drawn his attention, he joined him instantly; and even while speaking to
him, as well as for some time after, eagerly passed his eyes again and
again along the row of ladies, till they were finally fixed by the
peculiar lustre of Louisa's beauty.
Henry now introduced his brother, and the party rose to renew their
walk. Sir James attached himself to them entirely, and contrived, too,
to make a good position next to Louisa, whose appetite for admiration
was so insatiable, that even his was acceptable. While the whole party
were so goodnatured, so agreeable, and so much amused; yet so much too
well bred to show it in the rude and flagrant manner indulged in by too
many towards those labouring under natural infirmities, that poor Sir
James was perfectly delighted, and felt as if he was among the most
charming, kind, agreeable people in the whole world.
The Misses Salter had in the mean time made several attempts to bow to
Mrs. Dorothea; but that lady always took care to be so much occupied
with other people, as to make it impossible for them to catch her eye.
She however noticed their proceedings; and observing that some time
after the desertion of Sir James, Sir William Orm arrived and joined
them, she laid her plans accordingly. Sir William would not do to
introduce to her nieces, but he should nevertheless desert Miss Salter.
The walk now began to thin; on which the Arden party, having invited Sir
James and Henry Lindsey home with them to breakfast, an invitation very
usual on the Cheltenham promenade, took the path which led to their own
villa.