LADY DAVENANT'S DINNER-PARTY.
Lady Davenant had now been in full enjoyment of her title in Portman
Square, where one enjoys such things more thoroughly than on Stepney
Green, for four or five weeks. She at first enjoyed it so much that she
thought of nothing but the mere pleasure of the greatness. She felt an
uplifting of heart every time she walked up and down the stately stairs;
another every time she sat at the well-furnished dinner table; and
another whenever she looked about her in the drawing-room. She wrote
copious letters to her friend Aurelia Tucker during these days. She
explained with fulness of detail, and in terms calculated to make that
lady expire of envy, the splendor of her position; and for at least five
weeks she felt as if the hospitality of Miss Messenger actually brought
with it a complete recognition of her claim. Her husband, not so
sanguine as herself, knew very well that the time would come when the
Case would have to be taken up again and sent in to the proper quarter
for examination. Meantime he was resigned, and even happy. Three square
meals a day, each of them abundant, each a masterpiece of art, were
enough to satisfy that remarkable twist which, as her ladyship was
persuaded, one knows not on what grounds, had always been a
distinguishing mark of the Davenants. Familiarity speedily reconciled
him to the presence of the footmen; he found in the library a most
delightful chair in which he could sleep all the morning; and it pleased
him to be driven through the streets in a luxurious carriage under soft,
warm furs, in which one can take the air and get a splendid appetite
without fatigue.
They were seen about a great deal. It was a part of Angela's design that
they should, when the time came for going back again, seem to themselves
to have formed a part of the best society in London. Therefore she gave
instructions to her maid that her visitors were to go to all the public
places, the theatres, concerts, exhibitions, and places of amusement.
The little American lady knew so little what she ought to see and
whither she ought to go, that she fell back on Campion for advice and
help. It was Campion who suggested a theatre in the evening, the
Exhibition of Old Masters or the Grosvenor Gallery in the morning, and
Regent Street in the afternoon; it was Campion who pointed out the
recognized superiority of Westminster Abbey, considered as a place of
worship for a lady of exalted rank, over a chapel up a back street, of
the Baptist persuasion, to which at her own home Lady Davenant had
belonged. It was Campion who went with her and showed her the shops, and
taught her the delightful art of spending her money--the money "lent"
her by Miss Messenger--in the manner becoming to a peeress. She was so
clever and sharp, that she caught at every hint dropped by the
lady's-maid; she reformed her husband's ideas of evening-dress; she
humored his weaknesses; she let him keep his eyes wide open at a farce
or a ballet on the understanding that at a concert or a sermon he might
blamelessly sleep through it; she even began to acquire rudimentary
ideas on the principles of art.
"I confess, my dear Aurelia," she wrote, "that habit soon renders even
these marble halls familiar. I have become perfectly reconciled to the
splendor of English patrician life, and now feel as if I had been born
to it. Tall footmen no longer frighten me, nor the shouting of one's
name after the theatre. Of course the outward marks of respect one
receives as one's due, when one belongs, by the gift of Providence, to a
great and noble house."
This was all very pleasant; yet Lady Davenant began to yearn for
somebody, if it were only Mrs. Bormalack, with whom she could converse.
She wanted a long chat. Perhaps Miss Kennedy or Mrs. Bormalack, or the
sprightly Mr. Goslett, might be induced to come and spend a morning with
her, or a whole day, if only they would not feel shy and frightened in
so splendid a place.
Meantime some one "connected with the Press" got to hear of a
_soi-disant_ Lord Davenant who was often to be seen with his wife in
boxes at theatres and other places of resort. He heard, this
intellectual connection of the Press, people asking each other who Lord
Davenant was; he inquired of the Red Book, and received no response; he
thereupon perceived that here was an opportunity for a sensation and a
mystery. He found out where Lord Davenant was living, by great good
luck--it was through taking a single four of whiskey in a bar frequented
by gentlemen in plush; and he proceeded to call upon his lordship and to
interview him.
The result appeared in a long _communique_ which attracted general and
immediate interest. The journalist set forth at length and in the most
graphic manner the strange and romantic career of the condescending
wheelwright; he showed how the discovery was made, and how, after many
years, the illustrious pair had crossed the Atlantic to put forward
their claim; and how they were offered the noble hospitality of a young
lady of princely fortune. It was a most delightful godsend to the paper
in which it appeared, and it came at a time when the House was not
sitting, and there was no wringle-wrangle of debates to furnish material
for the columns of big type which are supposed to sway the masses. The
other papers therefore seized upon the topic and had leading articles
upon it, in which the false Demetrius, the pretending Palæologus, Perkin
Warbeck, Lambert Simnel, George Psalmanazar, the Languishing Nobleman,
the Earl of Mar, the Count of Albany, with other claims and claimants,
furnished illustrations to the claims of the Davenants. The publicity
given to the Case by these articles delighted her ladyship beyond
everything, while it abashed and confounded her lord. He saw in it the
beginning of more exertion, and strenuous efforts after the final
recognition. And she carefully cut out all the articles and sent them to
her nephew Nicholas, to her friend Aurelia Tucker, and to the editor of
the _Canaan City Express_ with her compliments. And she felt all the
more, in the midst of this excitement, that if she did not have some one
to talk to she must go back to Stepney Green and spend a day. Or she
would die.
It was at this juncture that Campion, perhaps inspired by secret
instructions, suggested that her ladyship must be feeling a little
lonely, and must want to see her friends. Why not, she said, ask them to
dinner?
A dinner-party, Lady Davenant reflected, would serve not only to show
her old friends the reality of her position, but would also please them
as a mark of kindly remembrance. Only, she reflected, dinner at Stepney
Green had not the same meaning that it possesses at the West End. The
best dinner in that locality is that which is most plentiful, and there
are no attempts made to decorate a table. Another thing, dinner is taken
universally between one o'clock and two. "I think, Clara Martha," said
his lordship, whom she consulted in this affair of state, "that at any
time of day such a Feast of Belshazzar as you will give them will be
grateful; and they may call it dinner or supper, which ever they
please."
Thereupon Lady Davenant wrote a letter to Mrs. Bormalack inviting the
whole party. She explained that they had met with the most splendid
hospitality from Miss Messenger, in whose house they were still staying;
that they had become public characters, and had been the subject of
discussion in the papers, which caused them to be much stared at and
followed in the streets, and in theatres and concert-rooms; that they
were both convinced that their case would soon be triumphant; that they
frequently talked over old friends of Stepney, and regretted that the
distance between them was so great--though distance, she added kindly,
cannot divide hearts; and that, if Mrs. Bormalack's party would come
over together and dine with them, it would be taken as a great kindness,
both by herself and by his lordship. She added that she hoped they would
all come, including Mr. Fagg and old Mr. Maliphant and Mr. Josephus,
"though," she added with a little natural touch, "I doubt whether Mr.
Maliphant ever gave me a thought; and Mr. Josephus was always too much
occupied with his own misfortunes to mind any business of mine. And,
dear Mrs. Bormalack, please remember that when we speak of dinner we
mean what you call supper. It is exactly the same thing, only served a
little earlier. We take ours at eight o'clock instead of nine. His
lordship desires me to add that he shall be extremely disappointed if
Mr. Goslett does not come; and you will tell Miss Kennedy, whose
kindness I can never forget, the same from me, and that she must bring
Nelly and Rebekah and Captain Sorensen."
The letter was received with great admiration. Josephus, who had
blossomed into a complete new suit of clothes of juvenile cut, declared
that the invitation did her ladyship great credit, and that now his
misfortunes were finished he should be rejoiced to take his place in
society. Harry laughed, and said that of course he would go. "And you,
Miss Kennedy?"
Angela colored. Then she said that she would try to go.
"And if Mr. Maliphant and Daniel only go too," said Harry, "we shall be
as delightful a party as were ever gathered together at one
dinner-table."
It happened that about this time Lord Jocelyn remembered the American
claimants, and his promise to call upon them. He therefore called, and
was received with the greatest cordiality by her little ladyship, and
with wondrous affability, as becomes one man of rank toward another, by
Lord Davenant.
It was her ladyship who volubly explained their claim to him, and the
certainty of the assumption that their Timothy Clitheroe was the lost
heir to the same two Christian names; her husband only folded his fat
hands over each other, and from time to time wagged his head.
"You are the first of my husband's brother peers," she said, "who has
called upon us. We shall not forget this kindness from your lordship."
"But I am not a peer at all," he explained; "I am only a younger son
with a courtesy title. I am quite a small personage."
"Which makes it all the kinder," said her ladyship; "and I must say
that, grand as it is, in this big house, one does get tired of hearin'
no voice but your own--and my husband spends a good deal of his time in
the study. Oh! a man of great literary attainments, and a splendid
mathematician. I assure your lordship not a man or a boy in Canaan City
can come near him in algebra."
"Up to a certain point, Clara Martha," said her husband, meaning that
there might be lofty heights in science to which even he himself could
not soar. "Quadratic equations, my lord."
Lord Jocelyn made an original remark about the importance of scientific
pursuits.
"And since you are so friendly," continued her ladyship, "I will venture
to invite your lordship to dine with us."
"Certainly. I shall be greatly pleased."
"We have got a few friends coming to-morrow evening," said her ladyship,
rather grandly. "Friends from Whitechapel."
Lord Jocelyn looked curious.
"Yes, Mr. Josephus Coppin and his cousin Mr. Goslett, a sprightly young
man who respects rank."
"He is coming, is he?" asked Lord Jocelyn, laughing.
"And then there is Miss Kennedy----"
"She is coming too?" He rose with alacrity. "Lady Davenant, I shall be
most happy to come, I assure you."
It was most unfortunate that next day Miss Kennedy had such a dreadful
headache, that she found herself prevented from going with the rest.
This was a great disappointment, and at the last moment old Mr.
Maliphant could not be found, and they had to start without him.
How they performed the journey, how Harry managed to let most of the
party go on before, because of his foolish pride, which would not let
him form one of a flock all going out together, and how he with Captain
Sorensen and Nelly came on after the rest, may be passed over.
When he got to Portman Square, he found the first detachment already
arrived, and, to his boundless astonishment, his guardian. Lady
Davenant, arrayed in her black velvet and the jewels which Angela gave
her, looked truly magnificent. Was it possible, Mrs. Bormalack thought,
that such a transformation could be effected in a woman by a velvet
gown? She even looked tall. She received her friends with unaffected
kindness, and introduced them all to Lord Jocelyn.
"Mrs. Bormalack, your lordship, my former landlady, and always my very
good friend. Professor Climo, your lordship, the famous conjurer. And
I'm sure the way he makes things disappear makes you believe in magic.
Mr. Fagg, the great scholar; of whom, perhaps, your lordship has heard.
Mr. Josephus Coppin, who has been unfortunate." Lord Jocelyn wondered
what that meant. "Miss Rebekah Hermitage, whose father is minister of
the Seventh Day Independents, and a most respectable connection, though
small in number. Captain Sorensen, your lordship, who comes from the
Trinity Almshouse, and Nellie his daughter; and Mr. Goslett. And I think
that is all; and the sooner they let us have dinner the better."
Lord Jocelyn shook hands with everybody. When it came to Harry, he
laughed, and they both laughed, but they did not say why.
"And where is Miss Kennedy?" asked her ladyship. And there were great
lamentations. "I wanted your lordship to see Miss Kennedy. Oh, there's
nobody like Miss Kennedy--is there, Nelly?"
"Nobody," said Nelly. "There can be nobody like Miss Kennedy." Lord
Jocelyn was struck with the beauty of this girl, whom he remembered
seeing at the dressmakery. He began to hope that she would sit next to
him at dinner.
"Nobody half so beautiful in all Stepney, is there?"
"Nobody half so good," said Rebekah.
Then the dinner was announced, and there was confusion in going down,
because nobody would go before Lord Jocelyn, who, therefore, had to lead
the way. Lord Davenant offered his arm to Mrs. Bormalack, Harry to
Nelly, and Captain Sorensen to Rebekah. The professor, Mr. Fagg, and
Josephus came last.
"To be sure," said Mrs. Bormalack, looking about her, thankful that she
had put on her best cap, "magnificence was expected, as was your
lordship's due, but such as this--no, young man, I never take soup
unless I've made it myself, and am quite sure--such as this, my lord, we
did not expect."
She was splendid in her beautiful best cap, all ribbons and bows, with
an artificial dahlia in it of a far-off fashion--say, the forties; the
sight of the table, with its plate and flowers and fruit, filled her
with admiration, but, as she now says in recalling that stupendous feed,
there was too much ornament, which kept her mind off the cooking, so
that she really carried away no new ideas for Stepney use. Nelly did sit
next to Lord Jocelyn, who talked with her, and found that she was shy
until he touched upon Miss Kennedy. Then she waxed eloquent, and told
him marvels, forgetting that he was a stranger who probably knew and
cared nothing about Miss Kennedy. But Nelly belonged to that very
numerous class which believes its own affairs of the highest interest to
the world at large, and in this instance Miss Kennedy was a subject of
the deepest interest to her neighbors. Wherefore he listened while she
told what had been done for the workgirls by one woman, one of
themselves.
Opposite, on Lady Davenant's left, sat Captain Sorensen. In the old days
the captains of East Indiamen were not unacquainted with great men's
tables, but it was long since he had sat at such a feast. Presently Lord
Jocelyn began to look at him curiously.
"Who is the old gentleman opposite?" he whispered to Nelly.
"That is my father; he was a captain once, and commanded a great ship."
"I thought so," said Lord Jocelyn. "I remember him, but he has forgotten
me."
Next to the captain sat Rebekah, looking prepared for any fate, and not
unduly uplifted by the splendor of the scene. But for her, as well as
for nearly all who were present, the word dinner will henceforth have a
new and exalted meaning. The length of the feast, the number of things
offered, the appointments of the table, struck her imagination; she
thought of Belshazzar and of Herod; such as the feast before her were
those feasts of old; she tasted the champagne, and it took away her
breath; yet it seemed good. Mr. Goslett seemed to think so too, because
he drank so many glasses.
So did the others, and, being inexperienced in wine, they drank with
more valor than discretion, so that they began to talk loud, but that
was not till later.
"Do people--rich people--always dine like this?" asked Nelly of her
neighbor.
"Something like this; yes, that is, some such dinner, though simpler, is
always prepared for them."
"I was thinking," she said, "how differently people live. I would rather
live in our way--with Miss Kennedy--than in so much grandeur."
"Grandeur soon becomes a matter of habit. But as for Miss Kennedy, you
cannot live always with her, can you?"
"Why not?"
"Well, she may marry, you know."
Nelly looked across the table at Harry.
"I suppose she will; we all of us hope she will, if it is to stay with
us; but that need not take her away from us."
"Do you know Miss Messenger?"
"No," said Nelly; "she has been very kind to us; she is our best
customer, she sends us all sorts of kind messages, and presents even;
and she sends us her love and best wishes; I think she must be very fond
of Miss Kennedy. She promises to come some day and visit us. Whenever I
think of Miss Messenger, I think, somehow, that she must be like Miss
Kennedy; only I cannot understand Miss Kennedy being rich and the owner
of this great house."
When the ladies retired, at length, it became manifest that Josephus had
taken more wine than was good for him. He laughed loudly; he told
everybody that he was going to begin all over again, classes and
lectures and everything, including the Sunday-school and the church
membership. The professor, who, for his part, seemed indisposed for
conversation, retained the mastery over his fingers, and began to
prepare little tricks, and presently conveyed oranges into Lord
Davenant's coat-tails without moving from his chair. And Daniel Fagg,
whose cheek was flushed, and whose eyes were sparkling, rose from his
chair, and attacked Lord Jocelyn, note-book in hand.
"Is your lo'ship," he began, with a perceptible thickness of
speech--Lord Jocelyn recognized him as the man whom he had accosted at
Stepney Green, and who subsequently took dinner with the girls--"is your
lo'ship int'rested in Hebrew schriptions?"
"Very much indeed," said Lord Jocelyn, politely.
"'Low me to put your lo'ship's name down for schription, twelve-and-six?
Book will come out next month, Miss Ken'dy says so."
"Put up your book, Daniel," said Harry sternly, "and sit down."
"I want--show--his lo'ship--a Hebrew schription."
He sat down, however, obediently, and immediately fell fast asleep.
Said Lord Jocelyn to Captain Sorensen:
"I remember you, captain, very well indeed, but you have forgotten me.
Were you not in command of the _Sussex_ in the year of the Mutiny? Did
you not take me out with the 120th?"
"To be sure--to be sure I did; and I remember your lordship very well,
and am very glad to find you remember me. You were younger then."
"I was; and how goes it with you now, captain? Cheerfully as of old?"
"Ay, ay, my lord. I'm in the Trinity Almshouse, and my daughter is with
Miss Kennedy, bless her! Therefore I've nothing to complain of."
"May I call upon you, some day, to talk over old times? You used to sing
a good song in those days, and play a good tune, and dance a good
dance."
"Come, my lord, as often as you like," he replied in great good-humor.
"The cabin is small, but it's cozy, and the place is hard to get at."
"It is the queerest dinner I ever had, Harry," Lord Jocelyn whispered.
"I like our old captain and his daughter. Is the hard-hearted dressmaker
prettier than Nellie?"
"Prettier! why, there is no comparison possible."
"Yet Nelly hath a pleasing manner."
"Miss Kennedy turns all her girls into ladies. Come and see her."
"Perhaps, Harry, perhaps; when she is no longer hard-hearted; when she
has named the happy day."
"This evening," said Lady Davenant, when they joined her, "will be one
that I never can forget. For I've had my old friends round me, who were
kind in our poverty and neglect; and now I've your lordship, too, who
belongs to the new time. So that it is a joining together, as it were,
and one don't feel like stepping out of our place into another quite
different, as I shall tell Aurelia, who says she is afraid that splendor
may make me forget old friends; whereas there is nobody I should like to
have with us this moment better than Aurelia. But perhaps she judges
others by herself."
"Lor!" cried Mrs. Bormalack, "to hear your ladyship go on! It's like an
angel of goodness."
"And the only thing that vexes me--it's enough to spoil it all--is that
Miss Kennedy couldn't come. Ah! my lord, if you had only seen Miss
Kennedy! Rebekah and Nelly are two good girls and pretty, but you are
not to compare with Miss Kennedy--are you, dears?"
They both shook their heads, and were not offended.
It was past eleven when they left to go home in cabs; one contained the
sleeping forms of Josephus and Mr. Fagg; the next contained Captain
Sorensen and Nelly, with Harry. The Professor, who had partly revived,
came with Mrs. Bormalack and Rebekah in the last.
"You seemed to know Lord Jocelyn, Mr. Goslett," said the captain.
"I ought to," replied Harry simply; "he gave me my education."
"He was always a brave and generous officer, I remember," the captain
went on. "Yes, I remember him well; all the men would have followed him
everywhere. Well, he says he will come and see me."
"Then he will come," said Harry, "if he said so."
"Very good; if he comes, he shall see Miss Kennedy too."