SAVILLE EXCUSED FOR HAVING HUMAN AFFECTIONS.--GODOLPHIN SEES ONE WHOM HE
NEVER SEES AGAIN.--THE NEW ACTRESS.
Saville was deemed the consummate man of the world--wise and heartless.
How came he to take such gratuitous pains with the boy Godolphin? In the
first place, Saville had no legitimate children; Godolphin was his
relation; in the second place it may be observed that hackneyed and sated
men of the world are fond of the young, in whom they recognise
something--a better something belonging to themselves. In Godolphin's
gentleness and courage, Saville thought he saw the mirror of his own
crusted urbanity and scheming perseverance; in Godolphin's fine
imagination and subtle intellect he beheld his own cunning and hypocrisy.
The boy's popularity flattered him; the boy's conversation amused. No man
is so heartless but that he is capable of strong likings, when they do not
put him much out of his way; it was this sort of liking that Saville had
for Godolphin. Besides, there was yet another reason for attachment,
which might at first seem too delicate to actuate the refined voluptuary;
but examined closely, the delicacy vanished. Saville had loved, at least
had offered his hand to--Godolphin's mother (she was supposed an heiress!)
He thought he had just missed being Godolphin's father: his vanity made
him like to show the boy what a much better father he would have been than
the one that Providence had given him. His resentment, too, against the
accepted suitor, made him love to exercise a little spiteful revenge
against Godolphin's father; he was glad to show that the son preferred
where the mother rejected. All these motives combined made Saville take,
as it were, to the young Percy; and being rich, and habitually profuse,
though prudent, and a shrewd speculator withal, the pecuniary part of his
kindness cost him no pain. But Godolphin, who was not ostentatious, did
not trust himself largely to the capricious fount of the worldling's
generosity. Fortune smiled on her boyish votary; and during the short
time he was obliged to cultivate her favours, showered on him at least a
sufficiency for support, or even for display.
Crowded with fine people, and blazing with light, were the rooms of the
Countess of B----, as, flushed from a late dinner at Saville's, young
Godolphin made his appearance in the scene. He was not of those numerous
gentlemen, the stock-flowers of the parterre, who stick themselves up
against walls in the panoply of neckclothed silence. He came not to balls
from the vulgar motive of being seen there in the most conspicuous
situation--a motive so apparent among the stiff exquisites of England. He
came to amuse himself; and if he found no one capable of amusing him, he
saw no necessity in staying. He was always seen, therefore, conversing or
dancing, or listening to music--or he was not seen at all.
In exchanging a few words with a Colonel D----, a noted roue and gamester,
he observed, gazing on him very intently--and as Percy thought, very
rudely--an old gentleman in a dress of the last century. Turn where he
would, Godolphin could not rid himself of the gaze; so at length he met it
with a look of equal scrutiny and courage. The old gentleman slowly
approached. "Percy Godolphin, I think?" said he.
"That is _my_ name, sir," replied Percy. "Yours----"
"No matter! Yet stay! you shall know it. I am Henry Johnstone--old Harry
Johnstone. You have heard of him?--your father's first cousin. Well, I
grieve, young sir, to find that you associate with that rascal
Saville--Nay, never interrupt me sir!--I grieve to find that you, thus
young, thus unguarded, are left to be ruined in heart and corrupted in
nature by any one who will take the trouble! Yet I like your
countenance!--I like your countenance!--it is open, yet thoughtful; frank,
and yet it has something of melancholy. You have not Charles's coloured
hair; but you are much younger--much. I am glad I have seen you; I came
here on purpose; good-night!"--and without waiting for an answer, the old
man disappeared.
Godolphin, recovering from his surprise, recollected that he had often
heard his father speak of a rich and eccentric relation named Johnstone.
This singular interview made a strong but momentary impression on him. He
intended to seek out the old man's residence; but one thing or another
drove away the fulfilment of the intention, and in this world the
relations never met again.
Percy, now musingly gliding through the crowd, sank into a seat beside a
lady of forty-five, who sometimes amused herself in making love to
him--because there could be no harm in such a mere boy!--and presently
afterwards, a Lord George Somebody, sauntering up, asked the lady if he
had not seen her at the play on the previous night.
"O, yes! we went to see the new actress. How pretty she is!--so
unaffected too;--how well she sings!"
"Pretty well--er!" replied Lord George, passing his hand through his hair.
"Very nice girl--er!--good ankles. Devilish hot--er, is it not--er--er?
What a bore this is: eh! Ah! Godolphin! don't forget Wattier's--er!" and
his lordship er'd himself off.
"What actress is this?"
"Oh, a very good one indeed!--came out in _The Belle's Stratagem_. We are
going to see her to-morrow; will you dine with us early, and be our
cavalier?"
"Nothing will please me more! Your ladyship has dropped your
handkerchief."
"Thank you!" said the lady, bending till her hair touched Godolphin's
cheek, and gently pressing the hand that was extended to her. It was a
wonder that Godolphin never became a coxcomb.
He dined at Wattier's the next day according to appointment: he went to
the play; and at the moment his eye first turned to the stage, a universal
burst of applause indicated the entrance of the new actress--Fanny
Millinger!