The triumphs of Aunt Dorothea over all her enemies, particularly the
Salters, were so numerous, that to avoid prolixity we have not recounted
them. As for Miss Salter, she had brought on a most inconvenient pain in
the back of her neck by the reiterated bows with which she had again and
again, morning after morning, vainly endeavoured to draw the attention
of Mrs. Dorothea Arden.
One day, however, when that lady was driving up and down the
High-street, seated at her ease in her sister, Lady Arden's peculiarly
splendid open barouche, she beheld, trudging along the flag-way and
coming towards her, Mr. and the Misses Salter, with countenances which
betrayed that they were not insensible to the heat of the weather; and
shoes so assimilated by dust to the dust on which they trod, as to be
nearly invisible. Mrs. Dorothea was not aware that the Salters had ever
before seen her in this elegant carriage: so anxious was she therefore
that they should do so now, that on the impulse of the moment, in
defiance of having long since given them the cut direct, she made an
almost involuntary, yet very conspicuous bow. Electrified and delighted,
the whole party stopped short and performed no less than three bows each
in return; while Miss Salter, who had by much the greatest portion of
moral courage of the whole trio, added even a kiss of the hand.
Miss Dorothea had not been long returned home when she received a card
of invitation from the Misses Salter to a quadrille party, accompanied
by a long servile note, to say that they were much concerned at not
having had earlier it in their power to offer some attention to her
friends, Lady Arden and family, and also to her friend Lady Palliser,
and begging to know if their waiting upon, and sending cards of
invitation to these respective ladies would be agreeable.
To this was added a hint, that indeed the party was in a great measure
made for her friends and would be very _select_.
To the invitation for herself, Mrs. Dorothea sent a formal rejection,
without assigning any reason. Of the absurd and forward proffer of
_attention_ to her _friends_ she took no notice.
Nor were those dignified proceedings the sole mode of vengeance
practised by Mrs. Dorothea against her pitiful foes; for much as she was
herself engaged at present with more agreeable occupations, she had
placed the affair from the commencement in such able hands, namely,
those of her prime minister, Sarah, that no circumstance, however
minute, had been lost sight of.
The origin of the Salters, by its coarsest appellation, had been
diligently disseminated in every servant's hall, and thence arisen to
the respective dining and drawing-rooms, till it had reached the ears of
many, who else had never known that there were such people in existence
as the Salters.
What was if possible worse, Sir William Orm's servant in particular had
been put on his guard about the deception practised on him by Mrs.
Johnson, respecting the young ladies' fortunes; on which Sir William had
without the slightest ceremony cut the connexion altogether. He never
called or even left a card; he never joined them any where, and as to
the bows he gave them in return for those they made to him from a mile
off, they were really, except to persons in desperate circumstances, not
worth having.
Sir James, it may be remembered, had deserted on the very first morning
he had encountered Louisa Arden; so that disconsolate indeed were now
the pair who had so lately congratulated themselves on having two
baronets for their lovers.
Their _select_ acquaintance too, the Shawbridges and Whaleworthys, began
to play fine; for in a watering place a title is a title, whether got by
accident or by cheese, and though both beef and cheese, like all other
necessaries, are sad vulgar things, experience had taught even the
innocent hearted Lady Whaleworthy, that with a certain class, and she
poor woman dreamed of no better, a title could cover a multitude of
_cheeses_.
Not so, alas, with the Misses Salter's _family secret_, which seemed for
the present to have abolished all variety of diet, for (crying
injustice!) while scarcely any body would visit Mr. Salter, Mr. Salter's
beef was, to quote Sarah's polite pun, "in every body's mouth!"
People could not even propound the flattering probability of his having
amassed a large fortune without some one more witty than elegant adding
the characteristic remark, that while salting his beef it was supposed
he had taken care to save his bacon.
To complete the unfortunate position of the family, Mr. Salter had
unluckily found it necessary of late, in consequence of an aggravation
of his old complaint of the eyelids, to wear, protruding from beneath
the brim of his white hat, a _green_ silk shade, which gave occasion to
the idlers on the Mountpelier-walk, green being the well known colour of
disappointment, to assert that he had done so in consequence of the
cruel desertion of Lady Flamborough, who had, simultaneously with the
appearance of the said badge of despair, jilted him for a half-pay
lieutenant; a gentleman who having received a hint to retire from the
service of his Majesty, for reasons best known to himself and his
brother officers, had come to Cheltenham to devote himself to the
service of the ladies.
Nor had poor Mr. Salter, while dragged every day to the walks by his
daughters, who now had no one else to walk with, a chance of forgetting
his fair deceiver; for there she was to be seen morning and evening as
gaily _undressed_ as ever, flaunting away and smiling and languishing as
usual; her white ostrich feathers too, at the highly improper
instigation of the breezes, mingling from time to time with the bright
red whiskers of the ci-devant lieutenant; while she, ungrateful woman,
had the barbarity to pass poor Mr. Salter again and again, without so
much as a recognition. "And that after," as he himself remarked,
"having had the face to eat his good dinners;" the remembrance of the
cost of which now added bitterness to the thoughts of slighted love.
This was the morning too of the very day, or rather evening, fixed for
Lady Palliser's fancy ball, with the expectation of which the whole town
was ringing. Even the walks were thinned by its prospective influence,
or rather picked of fashionables; for those who were to be there, were
keeping themselves up, that they might be quite fresh for an occasion to
which the very capriciousness of her ladyship's character had lent, in
anticipation at least, a more than common interest.
The Misses Salter, after weighing for two or three turns the poor chance
which sad experience had taught them there was of their picking up a
beau of any kind, against the certain disgrace of showing by their
wretchedness of fatigue that they were not to be among the _élite_ of
the evening, decided on going home to their breakfast, which social meal
commenced in a sulk and ended in a storm.
Miss Grace began again about the improvidence of cutting Mrs. Dorothea
in the premature manner they had done. "And it was all your fault,
Eliza," she continued, "that insolent temper of yours is always longing
so for an opportunity to break out; and yet there is nobody that can
sneak and cringe in the mean fawning manner that you can when you think
there is any thing to be got by a person. If my advice had been taken,
we would have been acquainted with all these genteel people, and going
to this ball to-night, no doubt. To do Mrs. Dorothea justice, she was
quite indefatigable in her kindness, and in getting people to call on us
and invite us as long as we showed her any kind of gratitude; so we have
ourselves to thank, or rather you for it all."
"Your advice indeed, you fool!" was all Miss Salter could find to say;
having, as she could not help knowing, the worst of the argument.
"It all comes of _pride_, and upstartishness, and nonsense," said Mr.
Salter. "Grace, the girl, however, is so far right; Mrs. Dorothea Arden
is a very worthy gentlewoman, and showed us a great deal more civility
than in our station of life we had any right to look for; and it
certainly was our place to be very grateful for it, and if we have not
been so it is no fault of mine; I knew nothing of the carryings on of
you Misses with your boarding-school breeding forsooth."