The eventful day arrived at last, and now, as I write, I can bring up
before me the whole of that morning, so full of exciting sensations
and of pleasurable surprises. I wandered about from room to room,
never sated with the splendors around me. Till then I had not seen the
gorgeous furniture uncovered, nor had I the faintest idea of the beauty
and richness of the silk hangings, or the glittering elegance of those
lustres of pure Venetian glass. Perhaps nothing, however, astonished me
so much as the array of gold and silver plate in the dining-room. Our
every-day dinners had been laid out with what had seemed to me a
most costly elegance; but what were they to this display of splendid
centrepieces and massive cups and salvers large as shields! Of flowers,
the richest and rarest, wagon-loads poured in; and at last I saw the
horses taken out, and carts full of carnations and geraniums left
unloaded in the stable-yard. Ice, too, came in the same profusion: those
squarely cut blocks, bright as crystal, and hollowed out to serve as
wine-coolers, and take their place amidst the costlier splendors of gold
and silver.
It is rare to hear the servant class reprove profusion; but here I
overheard many a comment on the reckless profligacy of outlay which had
provided for this occasion enough for a dozen such. It was easy to see,
they said, that Mr. Clere-mont did not pay; and this sneer sunk deep
into my mind, increasing the dislike I already felt for him.
Nor was it the house alone was thus splendidly prepared for reception;
but kiosks and tents were scattered through the grounds, in each of
which, as if by magic, supper could be served on the instant. Upwards of
thirty additional servants were engaged, all of whom were dressed in
our state livery, white, with silver epaulettes, and the Norcott crest
embroidered on the arm. These had been duly drilled by Mr. Cleremont,
and were not, he said, to be distinguished by the most critical eye from
the rest of the household.
Though there was movement everywhere, and everywhere activity, there
was little or no confusion. Cleremont was an adept in organization, and
already his skill and cleverness had spread discipline through the mass.
He was a despot, however, would not permit the slightest interference
with his functions, nor accept a suggestion from any one. “Captain
Hotham gives no orders here,” I heard him say; and when standing under
my window, and I am almost sure seeing me, he said, “Master Digby has
nothing to do with, the arrangements any more than yourself.”
I had determined that day to let nothing irritate or vex me; that I
would give myself up to unmixed enjoyment, and make this birthday a
memorable spot in life, to look back on with undiluted delight. I could
have been more-certain to carry out this resolve if I could only have
seen and spoken with Madame Cleremont; but she did not leave her room
the whole day. A distinguished hairdresser had arrived with a mysterious
box early in the morning, and after passing two hours engaged with her,
had returned for more toilet requirements. In fact, from the coming and
going of maids and dressmakers, it was evident that the preparations
of beauty were fully equal to those that were being made by cooks and
confectioners.
My father, too, was invisible; his breakfast was served in his own room;
and when Cleremont wished to communicate with him, he had to do so in
writing: and these little notes passed unceasingly between them till
late in the afternoon.
“What's up now?” I heard Hotham say, as Cleremont tore up a note in
pieces and flung the fragments from him with impatience.
“Just like him. I knew exactly how it would be,” cried the other. “He
sent a card of invitation to the Duc de Bredar without first making a
visit; and here comes the Duc's chasseur to say that his Excellency has
not the honor of knowing the gentleman who has been so gracious as to
ask him to dinner.”
“Norcott will have him out for the impertinence,” said Hotham.
“And what will that do? Will the shooting him or the being shot make
this dinner go off as we meant it, eh? Is that for me, Nixon? Give it
here.” He took a note as he spoke, and tore it open. 'La Marquise de
Carnac is engaged,' not a word more. The world is certainly progressing
in politeness. Three cards came back this day with the words 'Sent by
mistake' written on them. Norcott does not know it yet, nor shall he
till to-morrow.”
“Is it true that the old Countess de Joievillars begged to know who was
to receive the ladies invited?”
“Yes, it is true; and I told her a piece of her own early history in
return, to assure her that no accident of choice should be any bar to
the hope of seeing her.”
“What was the story?”
“I'd tell it if that boy of Norcott's was not listening there at that
window.”
“Yes, sir,” cried I; “I have heard every word, and mean to repeat it to
my father when I see him.” “Tell him at the same time, then, that his
grand dinner of twenty-eight has now come down to seventeen, and I 'm
not fully sure of three of these.”
I went down into the dining-room, and saw that places had been laid for
twenty-eight, and as yet no alteration had been made in the table, so
that it at once occurred to me this speech of Cleremont's was a mere
impertinence,--one of those insolent sallies he was so fond of. Nixon,
too, had placed the name of each guest on his napkin, and he, at least,
had not heard of any apologies.
Given in my honor, as this dinner was, I felt a most intense interest in
its success. I was standing, as it were, on the threshold of life, and
regarded the mode in which I should be received as an augury of good or
evil. My father's supremacy at home, the despotism he wielded, and the
respect and deference he exacted, led me to infer that he exercised the
same influence on the world at large; and that, as I had often heard,
the only complaint against him in society was his exclusiveness. I
canvassed these thoughts with myself for hours, as I sat alone in my
room waiting till it was time to dress.
At last eight o'clock struck, and I went down into the drawing-room.
Hotham was there, in a window recess, conversing in whispers with an
Italian count,--one of our intimates, but of whom I knew nothing. They
took no notice of me, so that I took up a paper and began to read.
Cleremont came in soon after with a bundle of notes in his hand. “Has
your father come down?” asked he, hastily; and then, without waiting for
my reply, he turned and left the room. Madame next appeared. I have no
words for my admiration of her, as, splendidly dressed and glittering
with diamonds, she swept proudly in. That her beauty could have been
so heightened by mere toilette seemed incredible, and as she read my
wonderment in my face she smiled, and said:--
“Yes, Digby, I am looking my very best to _fête_ your birthday.”
I would have liked to have told her how lovely she appeared to me, but I
could only blush and gaze wonder-ingly on her.
“Button this glove, dear,” said she, handing to me her wrist all
weighted and jingling with costly bracelets; and while, with trembling
fingers, I was trying to obey her, my father entered and came towards
us. He made her a low but very distant bow, tapped me familiarly on the
shoulder, and then moved across to an arm-chair and sat down.
Cleremont now came in, and, drawing a chair beside my father's, leaned
over and said something in a whisper. Not seeming to attend to what he
was saying, my father snatched, rather than took, the bundle of letters
he held in his hand, ran his eyes eagerly over some of them, and then,
crushing the mass in his grasp, he threw it into the fire.
“It is forty minutes past eight,” said he, calmly, but with a deadly
pallor in his face. “Can any one tell me if that clock be right?”
“It is eight or ten minutes slow,” said Hotham.
“Whom do we wait for, Cleremont?” asked my father again.
“Steinmetz was _de service_ with the King, but would come if he got
free; and there's Rochegude, the French Secretary, was to replace his
chief. I 'm not quite sure about the Walronds, but Craydon told me
positively to expect _him_.”
“Do me the favor to ring the bell and order dinner,” said my father; and
he spoke with measured calm.
“Won't you wait a few minutes?” whispered Cleremont. “The Duke de
Frialmont, I'm sure, will be here.”
“No, sir; we live in a society that understands and observes
punctuality. No breach of it is accidental. Dinner, Nixon!” added he as
the servant appeared.
The folding-doors were thrown wide almost at once, and dinner announced.
My father gave his arm to Madame Cleremont, who actually tottered as she
walked beside him, and as she sat down seemed on the verge of fainting.
Just as we took our places, three young men, somewhat overdressed,
entered hurriedly, and were proceeding to make their apologies for being
late; but my father, with a chilling distance, assured them they were in
excellent time, and motioned them to be seated.
Of the table laid for twenty-eight guests, nine places were occupied;
and these, by some mischance, were scattered here and there with wide
intervals. Madame Cleremont sat on my father's right, and three empty
places flanked his left hand.
I sat opposite my father, with two vacant seats on either side of
me; Hotham nearest to me, and one of the strangers beside him. They
conversed in a very low tone, but short snatches and half sentences
reached me; and I heard the stranger say, “It was too bold a step; women
are sure to resent such attempts.” Madame Cleremont's name, too, came up
three or four times; and the stranger said, “It's my first dinner here,
and the Bredars will not forgive me for coming.”
“Well, there's none of them has such a cook as Norcott,” said Hotham.
“I quite agree with you; but I 'd put up with a worse dinner for better
company.”
I looked round at this to show I had heard the remark, and from that
time they conversed in a whisper.
My father never uttered a word during the dinner. I do not know if he
ate, but he helped himself and affected to eat. As for Madame, how she
sat out those long two hours, weak and fainting as she was, I cannot
tell. I saw her once try to lift her glass to her lips, but her hand
trembled so, she set it down untasted, and lay back in her chair, like
one dying out of exhaustion.
A few words and a faint attempt to laugh once or twice broke the dead
silence of the entertainment, which proceeded, however, in all its
stately detail, course after course, till the dessert was handed round,
and Tokay, in small gilt glasses, was served; then my father rose
slowly, and, drawing himself up to his full height, looked haughtily
around him. “May I ask my illustrious friends,” said he, “who have this
day so graciously honored me with their presence, to drink the health
of my son, whose birthday we celebrate. There is no happier augury on
entering life than to possess the friendship and good-will of those who
stand foremost in the world's honor. It is his great privilege to be
surrounded this day by beauty and by distinction. The great in the arts
of peace and war, and that loveliness which surpasses in its fascination
all other rewards, are around me, and I call upon these to drink to the
health of Digby Norcott.”
All rose and drank; Hotham lifted his glass high in air and tried a
cheer, but none joined him; his voice died away, and he sat down; and
for several minutes an unbroken silence prevailed.
My father at last leaned over towards Madame, and I. heard the word
“coffee.” She arose and took his arm, and we all followed them to the
drawing-room.
“I 'm right glad it's over,” said Hotham, as he poured his brandy over
his coffee. “I've sat out a court-martial that wasn't slower than that
dinner.”
“But what's the meaning of it all?” asked another. “Why and how came all
these apologies?”
“You 'd better ask Cleremont, or rather his wife,” muttered Hotham, and
moved away.
“You ought to get into the open air; that's the best thing for you,”
I heard Cleremont say to his wife; but there was such a thorough
indifference in the tone, it sounded less like a kindness than a
sarcasm. She, however, drew a shawl around her, and moved down the
steps into the garden. My father soon after retired to his own room, and
Cleremont laughingly said, “There are no women here, and we may have
a cigar;” and he threw his case across the table. The whole party were
soon immersed in smoke.
I saw that my presence imposed some restraint on the conversation, and
soon sought my room with a much sadder spirit and a heavier heart than I
had left it two hours before.