Noblemen have been rather scarce at Birch's--but the heir of a great
Prince has been living with the Doctor for some years.--He is Lord
George Gaunt's eldest son, the noble Plantagenet Gaunt Gaunt, and nephew
of the Most Honorable the Marquis of Steyne.
They are very proud of him at the Doctor's--and the two Misses and Papa,
whenever a stranger comes down whom they want to dazzle, are pretty sure
to bring Lord Steyne into the conversation, mention the last party at
Gaunt House, and cursorily to remark that they have with them a young
friend who will be, in all human probability, Marquis of Steyne and Earl
of Gaunt, &c.
Plantagenet does not care much about these future honors: provided he
can get some brown sugar on his bread-and-butter, or sit with three
chairs and play at coach-and-horses quite quietly by himself, he is
tolerably happy. He saunters in and out of school when he likes, and
looks at the masters and other boys with a listless grin. He used to be
taken to church, but he laughed and talked in odd places, so they are
forced to leave him at home now. He will sit with a bit of string and
play cat's-cradle for many hours. He likes to go and join the very small
children at their games. Some are frightened at him; but they soon cease
to fear, and order him about. I have seen him go and fetch tarts from
Mrs. Ruggles for a boy of eight years old; and cry bitterly if he did
not get a piece. He cannot speak quite plain, but very nearly; and is
not more, I suppose, than three-and-twenty.
Of course at home they know his age, though they never come and see him.
But they forget that Miss Rosa Birch is no longer a young chit as
she was ten years ago, when Gaunt was brought to the school. On the
contrary, she has had no small experience in the tender passion, and is
at this moment smitten with a disinterested affection for Plantagenet
Gaunt.
Next to a little doll with a burnt nose, which he hides away in cunning
places, Mr. Gaunt is very fond of Miss Rosa too. What a pretty match
it would make! and how pleased they would be at Gaunt House, if the
grandson and heir of the great Marquis of Steyne, the descendant of a
hundred Gaunts and Tudors, should marry Miss Birch, the schoolmaster's
daughter! It is true she has the sense on her side, and poor Plantagenet
is only an idiot: but there he is, a zany, with such expectations and
such a pedigree!
If Miss Rosa would run away with Mr. Gaunt, she would leave off bullying
her cousin, Miss Anny Raby. Shall I put her up to the notion, and offer
to lend her the money to run away? Mr. Gaunt is not allowed money. He
had some once, but Bullock took him into a corner, and got it from him.
He has a moderate tick opened at a tart-woman's. He stops at Rodwell
Regis through the year: school-time and holiday-time, it is all the same
to him. Nobody asks about him, or thinks about him, save twice a year,
when the Doctor goes to Gaunt House, and gets the amount of his bills,
and a glass of wine in the steward's room.
And yet you see somehow that he is a gentleman. His manner is different
to that of the owners of that coarse table and parlor at which he is
a boarder (I do not speak of Miss R. of course, for HER manners are
as good as those of a duchess). When he caught Miss Rosa boxing
little Fiddes's ears, his face grew red, and he broke into a fierce
inarticulate rage. After that, and for some days, he used to shrink
from her; but they are reconciled now. I saw them this afternoon in the
garden where only the parlor-boarders walk. He was playful, and touched
her with his stick. She raised her handsome eyes in surprise, and smiled
on him very kindly.
The thing was so clear, that I thought it my duty to speak to old Zoe
about it. The wicked old catamaran told me she wished that some people
would mind their own business, and hold their tongues--that some persons
were paid to teach writing, and not to tell tales and make mischief:
and I have since been thinking whether I ought to communicate with the
Doctor.