"Mr T, pray go down and receive his lordship. (There are two wax
candles for you to light on the hall table, and you must walk up with
them before his lordship," said the lady aside.)
"I'll be hanged if I do," replied Mr Turnbull; "let the servants light
him."
"O, Mr T, I've such an 'eadache?"
"So you may have," replied Mr T, sitting down doggedly.
In the meantime Mr Smith entered, leading Lord Babbleton, a boy of
twelve or thirteen years old, shy, awkward, red-haired, and ugly, to
whom Mr Smith was tutor. Mrs T had found out Mr Smith, who was
residing near Brentford with his charge, and made his acquaintance on
purpose to have a lord on her visiting list, and, to her delight, the
leader had not forgotten to bring his bear with him. Mrs Turnbull
sprang to the door to receive them, making a prepared courtesy to the
aristocratical cub, and then shaking him respectfully by the hand.
"Won't your lordship walk to the fire? Isn't your lordship cold? I
hope your lordship's sty is better in your lordship's eye. Allow me to
introduce to your lordship's notice Mr and Mrs Peters--Madame and
Mounsheer Tagleebue--Mr and Mrs Drummond, the Right Honourable Lord
Viscount Babbleton." As for Mr Turnbull and myself, we were left out
as unworthy of introduction. "We are ready for dinner, Mr Turnbull."
"Snobbs, get dinner dressed up," said Mr T to the butler.
"O, Mr T, I've such an 'eadache."
This last headache was produced by Mr T forgetting himself, and calling
the butler by his real name, which was Snobbs; but Mrs Turnbull had
resolved that it should be changed to _Mortimer_--or rather, to Mr
Mortimer, as the household were directed to call him, on pain of
expulsion.
Dinner was announced. Madame Tagliabue, upon what pretence I know not,
was considered the first lady in the room, and Lord Babbleton was
requested by Mrs Turnbull to hand her down. Madame rose, took his
lordship's hand, and led him away. Before they were out of the room,
his lordship had disappeared among the ample folds of Madame's gown, and
was seen no more until she pulled him out, on their arrival at the
dinner-table. At last we were all arranged according to Mrs Turnbull's
wishes, although there were several chops and changes about, until the
order of precedence could be correctly observed. A French cook had been
sent for by Mrs Turnbull; and not being mistress of the language, she
had a card with the names of the dishes to refresh her memory, Mr
Mortimer having informed her that such was always the custom among great
people, who, not ordering their own dinners, of course they could not
tell what there was to eat.
"Mrs Turnbull, what soup have you there?"
"_Consummy_ soup, my lord. Will your lordship _make use_ of that or of
this here, which is _o'juss_."
His lordship stared, made no answer; looked foolish; and Mr Mortimer
placed some soup before him.
"Lord Babbleton takes soup," said Mr Smith, pompously; and the little
right honourable supped soup, much to Mrs Turnbull's satisfaction.
"Madame, do you soup? or do you fish?"
"Merci, no soup--_poisson_."
"Don't be afraid, madame; we've a French cook: you won't be _poisoned_
here," replied Mrs Turnbull, rather annoyed.
"Comment, my chere madame, I meant to say dat I prefer de cod."
"Mr T, some soup for Madame. John, a _clean_ plate for Lord Babbleton.
What will your lordship condescend to _make use_ of now?" (Mrs
Turnbull thought the phrase, _make use_, excessively refined and
elegant.)
"Ah, madame, votre cuisine est superbe," exclaimed Monsieur Tagliabue,
tucking the corner of his napkin into his button-hole, and making
preparations for well filling his little rotundity.
"_Ve_," replied Mrs Turnbull. "Mrs Peters, will you try the dish next
Mr Turnbull? What is it?" (_looking at her card_)--"_Agno roty_.
Will you, my lord? If your lordship has not yet got into your French--
it means roast quarter of lamb."
"His lordship is very partial to lamb," said Mr Smith, with emphasis.
"Mr Turnbull, some lamb for Lord Babbleton, and for Mr Peters."
"Directly, my dear.--Well, Jacob, you see, when I was first mate--"
"Dear! Mr Turnbull--I've such an 'eadache. Do, pray, cut the lamb.
(_Aside_.) Mr Mortimer, do go and whisper to Mr Turnbull that I beg
he will put on his gloves."
"Mrs Peters, you're doing nothing. Mr Mortimer, 'and round the side
dishes, and let John serve out the champagne."
"Mrs Peters, there's a _wolley went o' weaters_. Will you make use of
some? Mrs Drummond, will you try the dish coming round? It is--let me
see--_chew farsy_. My Lord Babbleton, I 'ope the lamb's _to your
liking_? Monshere Tagliabue--William, give Monshere a clean plate.
What will you take next?"
"Vraiment, madame, tout est excellent, superbe! Je voudrais embrasser
votre cuisinier--c'est un artiste comme il n'y a pas?"
"_Ve_," replied Mrs Turnbull.
The first course was removed; and the second, after some delay, made its
appearance. In the interim, Mr Mortimer handed round one or two
varieties of wine.
"Drummond, will you take a glass of wine with me?" said Mr Turnbull.
"I hate your sour French wines. Will you take Madeira? I was on shore
at Madeira once for a few hours, when I was before the mast, in the--"
"Mr Turnbull, I've such an 'eadache," cried his lady, in an angry tone.
"My lord, will you take some of this?--it is _ding dong o' turf_--a
turkey, my lord."
"His lordship is fond of turkey," said Mr Smith, dictatorially.
Monsieur Tagliabue, who sat on the other side of Mrs T, found that the
turkey was in request--it was some time before he could help himself.
"C'est superbe?" said Monsieur, thrusting a truffle into his mouth.
"Apparemment, madame, n'aime pas la cuisine Anglaise?"
"_Ve_," replied Mrs Turnbull. "Madame, what will you be _h_assisted
to?" continued Mrs T.
"Tout de bon, madame."
"_Ve_; what are those by you, Mr Peters?" inquired the lady in
continuation.
"I really cannot exactly say; but they are fritters of some sort."
"Let me see--hoh! bidet du poms. Madame, will you eat some _bidet du
poms_?"
"Comment, madame, je ne vous comprends pas--"
"_Ve_."
"Monsieur Tagliabue, expliquez donc;" said the foreign lady, red as a
quarter of beef.
"Permettez," said Monsieur, looking at the card. "Ah, c'est impossible,
ma chere," continued he, laughing. "Madame Turnbull se trompait; elle
voudrait dire _Beignets de pommes_."
"Vous trouvez notre langue fort difficile, n'est-ce pas?" continued
madame, who recovered her good humour, and smiled graciously at Mrs T.
"_Ve_," replied Mrs Turnbull, who perceived that she had made some
mistake, and was anxiously awaiting the issue of the dialogue. It had,
however, the effect of checking Mrs T, who said little more during the
dinner and dessert.
At last the ladies rose from the dessert, and left the gentlemen at the
table; but we were not permitted to remain long before coffee was
announced, and we went up stairs. A variety of French liqueurs were
handed about, and praised by most of the company. Mr Turnbull,
however, ordered a glass of brandy as a _settler_.
"Oh! Mr Turnbull, I've such an 'eadache!"
After that the party became very dull. Lord Babbleton fell asleep on
the sofa. Mr Peters walked round the room, admiring the pictures, and
asking the names of the masters.
"I really quite forget; but, Mr Drummond, you are a judge of paintings
I hear. Who do you think this is painted by?" said the lady, pointing
to a very inferior performance. "I am not quite sure; but I think it is
Van--Van _Daub_."
"I should think so too," replied Mr Drummond, drily; "we have a great
many pictures in England by the same hand."
The French gentleman proposed _ecarte_, but no one knew how to play it
except his wife; who sat down with him to pass away the time. The
ladies sauntered about the room, looking at the contents of the tables,
Mrs Peters occasionally talking of Petercumb Hall; Mr Smith played at
patience in one corner; while Mr Turnbull and Mr Drummond sat in
another in close conversation; and the lady of the house divided her
attentions, running from one to the other, and requesting them not to
talk so loud as to awake the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Babbleton.
At last the vehicles were announced, and the fashionable party broke up,
much to the satisfaction of everybody, and to none more than myself.
I ought to observe that all the peculiar absurdities I have narrated did
not strike me so much at the time; but it was an event to me to dine
out, and the scene was well impressed upon my memory. After what
occurred to me in my after life, and when I became better able to judge
of fashionable pretensions, the whole was vividly brought back to my
recollection.