If ever Mrs Girdwood had a surprise in her life, it was when Mr
Swinton called at the Clarendon Hotel, and asked if she and her girls
would accept an invitation to a reception at Lord --'s.
The entertainment was at the residence in Park Lane. The storekeeper's
widow gave her consent, without consulting her girls; and the invitation
came on a sheet of tinted paper, bearing the well-known crest.
Mrs Girdwood went to the reception, the girls along with her; Julia
carrying twenty thousand dollars' worth of diamonds upon her head and
shoulders.
Otherwise they were as well-dressed as any British damsel who presented
herself in his lordship's drawing-rooms; and among these were the
noblest in the land.
So far as appearance went, the American ladies had no need to be ashamed
of the gentleman who escorted them. Though to them but plain Mr
Swinton, Mrs Girdwood was subjected to a fresh shock of surprise, when
the noble host, coming up to the group, accosted him as "My dear Count,"
and begged an introduction to his companions.
It was gracefully given; and now for the first time in her life was Mrs
Girdwood certain of being surrounded by true titled aristocracy.
There could be no deception about the people of that party, who were of
all ranks known to "Burke's British Peerage." Nor could there be any
doubt now, that Mr Swinton _was_ a "somebody."
"A count he is, and no mistake!" was Mrs Girdwood's muttered soliloquy.
"He isn't a lord; he never said he was one. But a count's the same
thing, or the next to it.
"Besides, there are counts with great estates--far greater than some
lords. Haven't we heard so?"
The question was in a side whisper to Julia, after all three had been
introduced to their august entertainer.
Just then Julia had no opportunity of making answer to it, for the noble
host, whose guests they were, was so condescending as to chat with her;
and continued chatting such a long time, that the Count appeared to be
getting jealous of him! As if observing this, his lordship withdrew, to
extend a like courtesy to the twenty other beautiful young damsels who
graced the reception,--leaving the Girdwood group to their own and their
Count's guidance for the remainder of the evening.
Receptions do not last more than a couple of hours, beginning at ten and
breaking up about twelve, with light refreshments of the "kettle-drum"
kind, that serve, very unsatisfactorily, for supper.
In consequence, the Count de Valmy (for such was Mr Swinton's title)
invited the ladies to a _petit souper_ of a more substantial kind, at
one of the snug refectories to be found a little farther along
Piccadilly. There, being joined by the other count--met by them at Mr
Swinton's dinner-table, and who on this occasion was unaccompanied by
his countess--they passed a pleasant hour or two, as is usually the case
at a _petit souper_.
Even the gentle Cornelia enjoyed herself though not through the company
of the two counts. She had met a gentleman at the reception--a man old
enough to have been her father--but one of those noble natures with
which the heart of a young confiding girl readily sympathises. They had
chatted together. He had said some words to her, that made her forget
the disparity of years, and wish for more of his conversation. She had
given consent to his calling on her, and the thought of this hindered
her from feeling forsaken, even when the Count de Valmy confined his
attention to her cousin, and the married count made himself amiable to
her aunt!
The Champagne and Moselle were both of best quality; and Mrs Girdwood
was induced to partake of both freely, as was also her daughter.
The two counts were agreeable companions--but more especially he who had
so long passed as Mr Swinton, and who was no longer careful about
keeping up his _incognito_.
It ended in Mrs Girdwood's heart warming towards him with the affection
of a mother; while Julia's became almost softened to that other
affection which promised to bestow upon her the title of "Countess."
"What could be better, or prettier?" thought she, repeating the words of
her willing mother. A stylish countess, with a handsome count for
husband--dresses and diamonds, carriages and cash, to make the title
illustrious!
Of the last the count himself appeared to have plenty; but whether or
no, her mother had given promise that it should not be wanting.
And what a grand life it would be to give receptions herself--not only
in great London, but in the Fifth Avenue, New York!
And then she could go back to Newport in the height of the fashionable
season; and how she could spite the J--'s, and the L--'s, and the B--'s;
make them envious to the tips of their fingers, by flaunting herself
before their faces as the "Countess de Valmy!"
What if she did not love her count to distraction! She would not be the
first--not by millions--who had stifled the cherished yearnings of a
heart, and strained its tenderest chords, to submit to a marriage _de
convenance_!
In this mood Swinton found her, when, under _his true and real name_, he
once more made his proposal.
And she answered it by consenting to become the Countess de Valmy.