good deal of rather quizzical notice on account of their leader, or high
priestess, or whatever else she may have termed herself. Now it so
happened that this lady unintentionally afforded new cause for the same
sort of notice. She wore, as all the young ladies in her train did, a
veil attached to her head-dress, from which it descended to her feet,
falling in graceful folds about her person. As the room became warmer,
in spite of the punkahs which were kept constantly going, for the
dancers--among whom Mrs. W. (the _quasi_ virgin) had distinguished
herself--the veil became unbearable. Mrs. W. rejoiced in rather a
superfluity of flesh; she was a sanguine, full-blooded woman, with a
large endowment of adipose tissue. We would on no account be so vulgar
as to say that she was a fat woman; all that can be asserted, with due
regard to the _bienséances_, is that she was decidedly, very decidedly,
stout. The heat, the dancing, and the lady's full temperament, made the
veil insufferable; it was accordingly laid aside, then at once were
displayed charms that it is most difficult to do justice to. A dress
laced in to the last point of endurance, and at the back so liberally
cut down that the view afforded was unusually extensive, may give some
notion of the length and breadth of the prospect. The heat, the
exercise, and the constitution of the lady may, to those who have
carefully studied such natural phenomena, suggest that a lovely roseate
hue, a truly infantine tint, overpowered the native alabaster of the
skin. The effect of the painfully heroic efforts to obtain a waist had
produced a strong line down the spine, and had, moreover, accumulated
masses of roseate adipose tissue on either side of that line. The _tout
ensemble_ presented such a comical resemblance to something that may be
imagined though it may not be uttered, that the whole room was in a
titter.
'Did ever you see anything like it, in your life?' said Mrs. C. 'Why,
to tell you the truth, my dear, I think I have,' said Mrs. O., laughing
immoderately; 'have not you? Think now!' 'Oh,' said one of the young
ladies, 'I never!' 'On my life,' said old Mrs. Fitslik, 'it's like
nothing in the world but a baby's ----.' 'Well,' replied Mrs. O., 'if it
is, it must be an unusually well-developed baby; but I suppose "Virgins
of the Sun" may have unusually developed babies, if they have any.'
To repeat one hundredth part of the light sarcasms and gibes and
ironical praises of Mrs. W.'s liberality, beauty, and good taste, would
be impossible. The universal inquiry was, during the evening, 'Have you
seen Mrs. W.'s infantine back? if you haven't, you had better do so
without loss of time, for I'll be bound you'll never see anything like
it again, except you go into the nursery.' These, and innumerable others
like these, formed the staple of the chat amongst the fairer half of the
creation, and from these the talk of the gentlemen may be surmised. Some
of the remarks, no doubt, were witty and caustic enough; but as the
author has gone quite as far as he desired on the broad gauge in order
to expose a special instance of bygone female vanity and folly, he begs
to relegate the sayings of the male observers to the _Greek Kalends_.
The lights and shades of a ball, and especially of a fancy ball, have
ever been to the author, who was not a dancer, a source of amusement.
The wonder, embarrassment, pleasure, and delight of the neophytes, who
made their first appearance on the scene, was to him very interesting
and sometimes entertaining; as were the rivalries, flirtations,
disappointments, and vexations of the more experienced practitioners. It
would serve no purpose but to fatigue the reader to go into the details
of these lights and shades. Everyone can picture to her or him self the
usual occurrences of a ball--the eagerness of the young gentlemen to
obtain as a partner for the valse, or the polka, or the galop, some
particularly good dancer, or some particularly pretty girl, and the
extraordinary ingenuity and tact displayed by the young ladies in
avoiding and getting rid of those they did not wish to have for
partners, and in waiting for, in piqueing or punishing those men whom
they did wish to secure. Bless their sweet faces! all they did was
equally remarkable.
No. VIII.
WORSHIPPING TITLED FOLK.
The little _plaisanterie_ about to be narrated took place at the house
of the officer whose amiable disposition towards those under his
command, and particularly towards my brother and Mrs. B., has previously
been shown. Fortunately for all parties, the unhappy temper referred to
was not always present, and, as this veritable history will prove,
Colonel G. could make himself agreeable and join in fun and mirth as
pleasantly even as Mrs. B. herself, who planned and originated _le petit
jeu_ now to be described. The frolic was suggested by the extreme love
and reverence displayed by a young lady, then staying with Captain and
Mrs. C., for titles and titled personages. The whole conversation of
this young lady, a Miss Freeman, was made up with what Lord ---- had
thought, or said, or done; and how Sir George had remarked, with his
usual good sense, so and so; and how the young Marquis of ---- had been
so funny about the horses, and how the ladies present had been so much
amused, etc.
An exhibition of Miss F.'s feelings, likings, and instincts, took place
at Mrs. G.'s house on the occasion of a morning call. Mrs. B., who
happened to be there at the time, and who really had seen a good deal of
high life, was so much amused that unintentionally she communicated her
own feeling to Colonel G., who, we have seen, by his dexterity in
turning the tables on poor Mrs. B., was by no means destitute of
acuteness or satirical power. He soon comprehended the situation, and
did his best to aid Mrs. B. in drawing out Miss Freeman. The
conversation proceeded in a manner that may be guessed at by the
following imperfect report:
'Well, but, my dear,' observed Mrs. B., 'I should like to hear some of
the funny talk of the "most noble" youth that amused your lady friends
so much; can't you tell us something of what he said?'
'Oh,' replied the young lady, 'I don't remember all he said.'
'But,' returned Mrs. B., 'we don't ask for all; can't you tell us
something of it? You surely must remember something, and then perhaps we
should be able to guess at something more.'
After a pause Miss F. said, 'I remember, amongst other funny things the
young Marquis said, speaking of all the girls present, that "the young
fillies were rather a promising lot taken altogether."'
'Did he really say that?' asked Mrs. B.; 'very amusing wasn't it,
Colonel G.?'
'Amusing and complimentary too,' returned the Colonel.
'He must have been a delightful young man,' remarked Mrs. B.
'He was indeed, Mrs. B.,' said the young lady.
'But, come, tell us something more; don't be so stingy with your
recollections: pray give us a little more.'
'I wish I could,' returned Miss F., 'but I've such a bad memory. Oh, I
do call to mind. He said Miss Marks "went right well on her pasterns."'
'What an amusing fellow!' said the elder lady.
'You can't think what an amusing creature he was,' continued Miss F.
'I begin to have some notion,' replied Mrs. B.
'Oh, but you don't know what he said of Miss Smithers.'
'How should I?' returned Mrs. B. 'I wasn't so fortunate, you know, as to
be one of his intimate friends.'
'That's true,' said Miss F.
'But,' continued the elder lady, 'let us hear what he said.'
'It was so funny that we all laughed.'
'How tantalizing you are! Why don't you repeat it, that we may laugh
too?' said Mrs. B.
'Well,' replied Miss F., laughing, 'he said "she was bluff in the
hocks."'
'Said "she was bluff in the hocks!"' said Mrs. B., as soon as she could
recover from her laughter (in which her friends joined). 'No wonder you
were all charmed with him; it is scarcely possible to imagine a more
fascinating or witty young gentleman. But what did he mean, my dear, by
bluff in the hocks?'
'I'm sure I can't say, Mrs. B.; but I know everybody thought it very
funny and very amusing. I don't think anyone knew exactly what he did
mean, but everyone laughed most heartily. I know I did.'
'Truly,' said Mrs. B., 'a more convincing proof of wit than that I can
scarcely imagine; it must have been superlative when it amused everyone
though no one understood it.'
'It must not only have been superlative, but amazing,' observed Colonel
G. 'I only wish I could get people to laugh on such easy terms; but I
suppose being a marquis goes some way.'
'Very likely,' said Mrs. B. 'What do you say, Miss F.?'
'Of course it does. I should say it would go a very long way,' said the
young lady.
'It is greatly to be regretted,' remarked Mrs. B., 'that we have no
such witty young marquises in this part of the world.'
'Yes,' said Miss F., 'that's what most makes me regret coming to India;
we find no people here with handles to their names.'
'Come, come,' said Mrs. B., 'you must not exactly say that; we had Lord
E., and his friend the Earl of C., here but a very short time ago.'
'Ah, but there's no one of that rank here now,' returned Miss F., 'and I
really don't care much to meet those who are not in some way
_distingué_.'
'That's to be expected,' replied Mrs. B. 'Being yourself, by your
natural refinement of mind, so _distingué_, you would, as a matter of
course, like to meet distinguished people; we will see what we can do to
introduce you to someone with a handle to his name. There are two or
three officers belonging to the class you admire so much about to join
the 13th from England, and as soon as any one of them arrives, I'll make
it my business to introduce you.'
'Oh, how very kind of you, Mrs. B.! I thank you very much.'
Mrs. C. and her guest now rose to depart. As soon as they were gone,
Mrs. B., Colonel G., and his wife all indulged themselves in an
unrestrained fit of laughter. 'I really have more than half a mind to
play that girl a trick,' said Mrs. B., 'to punish her for her
insufferable affectation.' 'On my word she does her best to make herself
ridiculous.' 'Several of my servants are sick, including the cook,' said
Mrs. B., 'or I'd give an evening party, and introduce some of our young
fellows as people of rank.' 'Let that be no obstacle to the fun,' said
Mrs. G. 'I'll give the party; do you introduce your friends.' So the two
ladies and Colonel G. engaged heartily in the plot.
In due season invitations were issued to 'a select circle of friends,'
as the stereotyped saying has it, which included the C.'s and Miss
Freeman, to an evening party to meet Sir Charles Oakley and Sir Hubert
Stanley. Great was the excitement amongst all invited to know all about
the strangers, of whom they had never heard.
On the evening named, the guests arrived, and as they did so Colonel G.,
who was waiting in the hall for that purpose, cautioned everyone to say
nothing if, in the strangers, they happened to recognise faces with
other names than those adopted for the evening. Everyone saw there was
some frolic _in hand_ or _on foot_ (if the latter phrase pleases
better), and immediately everyone entered into it so far as to resolve
to observe all but say nothing.
Mrs. C. and Miss F. soon made their appearance. Captain C., for some
reason, did not go, which, as he was a man of sour disposition,
inapprehensive of a joke, was lucky. By and by Mrs. B. and the guests of
the evening--or, rather, the guest, Sir Hubert being sick--appeared.
'Indisposed to come, I presume,' said Colonel G. 'So I told him,'
returned Mrs. B. As the drawing-room door opened, a half-caste 'writer,'
dressed in livery for the occasion, announced Mrs. B. and Sir Charles
Oakley, who immediately afterwards was formally introduced to Mrs. G.
Irrepressible was the tittering amongst those who recognised in Sir
Charles the jolly, fat, good-humoured Lieutenant Mac----ny of the 13th
Dragoons; but under Colonel G.'s sharp supervision all held their peace.
Sir Charles was in high spirits, made himself very amusing and
agreeable, and was for the evening a real 'live lion.'
As soon as the introductions were over, Mrs. B. called Miss F. to come
and sit beside her. Sir Charles was at the time standing near her chair,
and a good deal of fun seemed to be going on between them, if that may
be inferred from the laughter.
'You know the Marquis of Sevenoaks, I hear, Miss Freeman,' said the
Baronet; 'an old schoolfellow of mine at Eton. Many a thrashing he's had
from me. I was in the upper forms, and the Marquis was my fag.'
Miss F. opened her eyes very wide, and then exclaimed: 'Oh, but you're
joking, Sir Charles! Surely you can't mean that you thrashed the young
Marquis of Sevenoaks?'
'Why not, Miss Freeman? All fags get their share of licking, and why
shouldn't he?'
'Oh, but it's so cruel; and the Marquis must have been quite a little
fellow then. It's shocking to think that the bigger boys should have the
power to thrash the little ones, and actually be allowed to do it, and
in this case to a boy of such high rank--a Marquis. I really can't think
it; you're trying to possess me' ('Upon my life!' said Mac----ny, 'I'm
not') 'with absurd notions and imaginations. The idea of thrashing a
young scion of nobility, quite as a matter of routine, as if he was no
better than a tinker or tailor! It's quite preposterous and revolting,
and seems almost an act of profanation! I never can believe it.'
'It's a pity, then, you didn't hear the young beggar singing out when he
had to hold up.'
Poor Miss Freeman! all her ideas suffered a dreadful kind of revolution.
She was in a sort of stupor; her brain was in a whirl. Could it be
possible that a young Marquis could be thrashed at the pleasure of an
elder boy merely because that boy sat on another form? To be called a
young beggar besides, and to have his sufferings actually made game of
by a mere baronet, it was all so dreadful, so astounding, and so utterly
opposed to all her preconceived notions, that she was lost in amazement.
'You say, Miss Freeman,' said the Baronet, breaking in on her silent
contemplations and reflections, 'that the fagging seems to be a matter
of form. Well, so it is as to the seats of the boys, but not at all a
matter of form as to the smart of the stripes; that depends on strength
of arm.'
'Whatever it depends on,' said Miss F., 'it's very shocking to hear; but
I'm persuaded you're hoaxing me. I'll never believe that a young
nobleman of such high rank would or could be used in such a way.'
'Very sorry you don't believe,' said the Baronet, 'but all the same it's
true; and, after all, his allowance as fag was nothing to what he used
to get from old Thwackum regularly every day. Spoony, as the young hero
was then called, used to get it regularly for his parsing, and whenever
he saw the cane coming he used to begin to blubber, to the great
amusement of old Snuffy, which was Thwackum's common appellation. The
old fellow on these pleasant occasions used to become facetious, and,
after his fashion, witty. Spoony in those days was marked pretty
strongly by the small-pox, and whenever the tears filled the little pits
caused by the pock marks, Snuffy used to say: "What, Mr. Puteus, the
lord of the wells! Why, my little conjuring wand is as potent as the rod
of Moses in raising the waters, and in setting the streams a-flowing.
But why begin before there's need? The pleasure's to come, you know."
The reason he called him _Puteus_ was that this is the Latin for a well,
and so afforded opportunity for his allusions, and at the same time for
a vile attempt at wit, _i.e._, to call him _Mr. Beauteous_.'
'Can it be possible,' said Miss F., 'that anyone could be so cruel,
cowardly, and fiend-like as to rejoice over pain, and make fun of a poor
young fellow he was going to punish? I cannot believe it.'
'Don't, then,' said the heartless Baronet, turning away and laughing,
'but nevertheless it's fact, pure and simple.'
Sir Charles then sauntered away, leaving Miss Freeman considerably
mystified, and in an unsatisfactory state of doubt as to how far she was
to believe the various unpleasant statements made by her new
acquaintance.
Mrs. B., the Colonel, and Mrs. G. were at this time making themselves
very merry, but their conversation was carried on in so low a tone of
voice that nothing reached Miss Freeman's ears. She was in a melancholy
mood, thinking of the sufferings the young Marquis had undergone, the
enormities of those who had caused them, and whether all or the greater
part of what she had heard was not pure invention; and, finally, that
the Baronet wasn't half so nice as the Marquis. But, then, how could he
be, being only a Baronet?
While she was communing with herself, Mrs. B. returned to her former
seat. As she resumed her place she said: 'And how do you like Sir
Charles, Miss Freeman?'
'Oh, I like him of all things,' replied the young lady, 'only I wish he
would not speak so unkindly of the Marquis.'
'I fancy he only tells you,' replied Mrs. B., 'what is common at all our
public schools, particularly if the boy spoken of does not happen to
understand his syntax (I think they call it) well. But,' continued she,
'I don't perceive that you are making any approach to a more cordial
footing.'
'I wish I could,' returned Miss F., 'but I don't know how to manage it.'
'I am surprised at that,' said Mrs. B., 'since you have been so intimate
with so many titled personages; but I will try if I can't help you.'
'Oh, Mrs. B., if you would I should be so grateful.'
Mrs. B., as soon as she caught his eye, beckoned to Sir Charles. When he
came up to her, she said: 'I thought you were to be in waiting on me,
sir, for this evening; but I find you're a very careless squire.'
'Haven't you elected me for your knight? How, then, can I be a careless
squire? But _mille pardons_,' continued the gentleman, 'I do confess to
a temporary dereliction.'
'Which,' returned Mrs. B., 'if I were not most royally disposed I should
not forgive so readily.'
'I think if I were forgotten so I would not be so merciful,' observed
the young lady.
'Why, what would you do under such circumstances?' asked Sir Charles.
'Would you order the culprit to be shut up in the Tower? or would you
order him to be beheaded at once?'
'Not being a Queen,' returned Miss F., 'I would not resort to such
measures.'
'Then what would you do?' continued the gentleman. 'Would you have a
riband or a silk cord tied to the rover's leg or arm, and fastened by
the other end to your fan or your waistband?'
'No,' replied Miss F., 'I would not do that.'
'No! Then what would you do?'
'I think I know what I would do,' returned Miss F.
'I say,' said Mrs. B., 'for the sake of similarly neglected ladies, do
inform us.'
'Yes,' said Sir Charles, 'it would only be fair to tell.'
'I think,' said Miss F., whispering the words into Mrs. B.'s ear, 'I
would try and retain him by the language of the eyes.'
'Oh,' said Mrs. B., laughing, 'but all ladies may not have such
proficiency in that language as you may possess.'
'I have a notion,' said Miss F., 'that most ladies understand that
language, and all, I fancy, do employ it sometimes.'
'But,' inquired the Baronet, 'what's the dodge? Put us up to the dodge,
Miss Freeman.'
'Oh, I can't do that,' said the young lady, looking at the gentleman in
a sort of languishing, sufficiently expressive, way.
He then, turning to Mrs. B., said: 'Come, Mrs. B., won't you tell us
what this knowing dodge is?'
'No, no; don't tell, Mrs. B.!' exclaimed the young lady; 'pray don't. I
beg you won't.'
'Miss Freeman is inclined to trust to the power of invisible chains,
that's all,' said Mrs. B.
'Oh, that's it, is it?' said the Baronet. 'I should fancy such chains
very infirm, and little to be depended on--in fact, I should regard them
as utterly worthless and flimsy, except, indeed, they happened to be
that kind of flimsy that the fat old banker's widow hung round the neck
of young Lord Manners; that might hold.'
'And what kind of chain is it that you describe by this word flimsy?'
'Don't you know?' replied the gentleman. 'I thought everyone knew that.'
'He means a chain of bank-notes,' said Mrs. B. 'A bank-note is with men
on the turf, and other classes less respectable, termed a "flimsy."'
'And that's the meaning of a "flimsy," is it?' said Miss F.
'Yes, my dear,' returned Mrs. B.; 'that's the meaning.'
'And that's the sort of chain that would, in your opinion, be of force
sufficient to restrain a wanderer from straying, is it, Sir Charles?'
'If it is,' interposed Mrs. B., 'I for one don't agree with him.
Experience tells us that all such chains are scarcely ever found
binding.'
'But what a mercenary view to take of the matter! I'm sure, Sir Charles,
that's not your belief in your heart of hearts. I'm certain you have too
much chivalry in you to think so.'
'Well, I don't know,' returned the Baronet; 'I've always thought I had a
great deal too much heart, but at any rate I'm sure I haven't more than
one. As to the chivalry, if we get a chance at the Russians I may
perhaps find out if I've got any, and so perhaps may they.'
'I think, Mrs. B.,' said Miss F., 'I begin to understand your friend Sir
Charles; he is one of those who delight in making themselves appear
worse than they are, and not only worse, but the very reverse of what
they are.'
'Take care,' said Mrs. B., 'that you don't pursue that style of
reasoning too far. By following it up you might invest him with all the
attributes of an 'Admirable Crichton,' and, after all, find out that he
is only Sir Charles Oakley.'
'Oh, but,' said the Baronet, 'she says she has found me out, and thus
indirectly asserts that I am supporting an assumed character.'
'Oh, Sir Charles!' exclaimed the young lady, 'how can you say so? I only
said that I thought I began to understand you.'
'Well,' returned the gentleman, 'isn't understanding me finding me out?'
'Oh, but!' returned Miss F., 'you put such a different construction on
the words; and I never said or thought you were supporting an assumed
character.'
'Didn't you?' said the Baronet, laughing; 'I thought you did, and if you
had, only conceive how wrong you would have been.' The laughter seemed
infectious, for Mrs. B. restrained the tendency that beset her with no
little difficulty. 'But didn't you say,' continued the Baronet, 'that I
was one of those who delighted in making myself appear worse than I was,
and not only worse, but the reverse of what I was; and if that is true,
is not that supporting an assumed character?'
'Oh!' replied Miss F., 'you do twist things in such a way, you know I
only meant that you might be what I supposed, in spite of your seeming.'
'It seems, then, after all, Miss F.,' said Sir C, 'that you have not
found me out, since you persist in believing me to be not only a dragoon
and a baronet, but a chivalrous, unselfish, unmercenary sort of fellow,
with more hearts than one.'
'More hearts than one was entirely your own, Sir C.,' said Miss F.,
'made out by an obvious perversion of language; and with regard to the
other matters, I suspect I'm not so wrong as you try to make me appear.'
'It's very ridiculous, isn't it, Mrs. B.?' said Sir C.
'What's ridiculous?' said Miss F.
'Why,' replied Sir C., 'it's very ridiculous to me to find myself ranked
so high without deserving it, and credited with a lofty, unmercenary
character, because I alluded to the power of bank-notes, to say nothing
of being also credited with possessing more hearts than one; while, at
the same time, it is asserted, or insinuated, that I am supporting an
assumed character. All this is charmingly ridiculous to my mind.'
'Well, well, it's useless for me to say anything; you will have it all
your own way, Sir Charles,' said the young lady, 'and you have managed
to misinterpret everything I have said in such a comical manner that I
own it is very ridiculous.'
'Capital!' said the Baronet; 'then after all we do agree, which,
considering that we have differed in everything, is in itself
sufficiently ridiculous, and will, I trust, afford us both ground for
laughter for many a day to come.'
'As for me,' said Mrs. B., 'I'm sure the remembrance of this evening
will afford me food for laughter whenever it recurs to my mind; and now
I'll wish my friends good-night; and then, Sir Charles, I shall be
obliged if you'll order my carriage.'
So the party broke up, the secret having been thoroughly well kept,
thanks to the vigilance of Colonel and Mrs. G.