CHAPTER XXXII

This resolution once made known, not an instant was allowed to retract,

or even to deliberate: to let it reach Miss Arbe was to put it into

execution. That lady appeared now in her chosen element. She suggested

all that was to be attempted; she directed all that was to be done. A

committee of ladies was formed, nominally for consultation, but, in

fact, only for applause; since whoever ventured to start the smallest

objection to an idea of Miss Arbe's, was overpowered with conceited

insinuations of the incompetency of her judgment for deciding upon such

matters; or, if any one, yet bolder, presumed to hint at some new

arrangement, Miss Arbe looked either sick or angry, and declared that

she could not possibly continue to offer her poor advice, if it were

eternally to be contested. This annihilated rather than subdued

interference; for the whole party was of opinion, that nothing less than

utter ruin to the project could ensue from her defection.

This helpless submission to ignorant dominion, so common in all

committees where the leaders have no deeper science than the led,

impeded not the progress of the preparations. Concentrated, or arbitrary

government may be least just, but it is most effective. Unlimited in her

powers, uncontrouled in their exertion, Miss Arbe saved as much time by

the rapidity, as contention by the despotism of her proceedings.

All seemed executed as soon as planned. The rooms were fitted up; the

music was selected for the performance; the uniform for the lady-artists

was fixed upon; all succeeded, all flourished,--save, only, the

subscription for the concert!

But this, the essential point, neither her authority nor her influence

was sufficiently potent to accelerate. Nothing is so quick as the

general circulation of money, yet nothing requires more address than

turning it into new channels. Curiosity was amply awakened for one

evening's entertainment; but the subscription, which amounted to ten

guineas, was for three nights in the week. The scheme had no interest

adequate to the expence either of time or of money thus demanded; except

for matrons who had young ladies, or young ladies who had talents to

display. And even these, in the uncertainty of individual success, were

more anxious to see the sum raised from others, than alert to advance it

themselves.

This slackness of generosity, and dearth of spirit, however offensive to

the pride, rather animated than dampt the courage of Miss Arbe. She saw,

she said, that the enterprize was arduous; but its difficulties, and not

the design, should be vanquished. Her preparations, therefore, were

continued with unabated confidence, and, within a week, all the

performers were summoned to a rehearsal.

Ellis was called upon with the rest; for in the name of Miss Ellis, and

for the sake and the benefit of Miss Ellis, all the orders were given,

all the measures were taken, and all the money was to be raised: yet in

no one point had Ellis been consulted; and she would hardly have known

that a scheme which owed to her its name, character, and even existence,

was in agitation, but from the diligence with which Miss Arbe ordered

the restoration of the harp; and from the leisure which that lady now

found, in the midst of her hurries, for resuming her lessons.

Ellis, from the time that she had agreed to this scheme, devoted herself

completely to musical studies; and the melodious sounds drawn forth from

her harp, in playing the exquisite compositions of the great masters,

with whose works her taste, industry, and talents had enriched her

memory, softened her sorrows, and soothed her solitude. Her vocal

powers, also, she cultivated with equal assiduity; and she arrived at

the house of Miss Sycamore, where the first rehearsal was to be held,

calmly prepared to combat every internal obstacle to exertion, and to

strive, with her best ability, to obtain the consideration which she

desired, from the satisfaction, rather than solely from the indulgence

of her auditors.

But the serenity given, at least assumed, by this resolution, was

suddenly shaken through a communication made to her by Mr Giles Arbe,

who was watching for her upon the staircase, that fifty pounds had been

deposited, for her use, with his cousin, Miss Arbe, by Lady Aurora

Granville.

Intelligence so important, and so touching, filled her with emotion. Why

had not Miss Arbe transmitted to her a donation so seasonable, and so

much in unison with her wishes? Instantly, and without scruple, she

resolved to accept it; to adopt some private plan of maintenance, and to

relinquish the concert-enterprise altogether.

This idea was enforced by all her feelings. Her original dislike to the

scheme augmented into terrour, upon her entrance into the apartment

destined for its opening execution, when she perceived her own harp

placed in the most conspicuous part of the upper end of the room, which

was arranged for an orchestra: while the numerous forms with which the

floor was nearly covered, shewed her by how many auditors she was

destined to be judged, and by how many spectators to be examined. Struck

and affrighted, her new hope of deliverance was doubly welcomed, and she

looked eagerly round for Miss Arbe, to realize it without delay.

Miss Arbe, however, was so encircled, that there seemed little chance of

obtaining her attention. The situation of Ellis was awkward and painful;

for while the offences by which she had so lately been wounded, made her

most want encouragement, the suspicions which she had excited seemed to

distance all her acquaintance. No mistress of the house deigned to

receive, or notice her; and though, as a thing of course, she would

herself have approached any other than Miss Sycamore, there was a

lively, yet hardy insolence in that young lady, which she had not

courage to encounter.

The company, at large, was divided into groups, to the matron part of

which Miss Arbe was dictatorially haranguing, with very apparent

self-applause. The younger sets were engaged in busy whispering trios or

quartettos, in corners, or at the several windows.

Embarrassed, irresolute, Ellis stopt nearly upon her entrance, vainly

seeking some kind eye to invite her on; but how advance, where no one

addressed, or seemed to know her? Ah! ye proud, ye rich, ye high!

thought she, why will you make your power, your wealth, your state, thus

repulsive to all who cannot share them? How small a portion of

attention, of time, of condescension, would make your honours, your

luxuries, your enjoyments, the consolation, not the oppression, of your

inferiours, or dependants?

While thus, sorrowingly, if not indignantly, looking round, and seeing

herself unnoticed, if not avoided, even by those whose favour, whose

kindness, whose rising friendship, had most eminently distinguished her,

since the commencement of her professional career, she recollected the

stories of her disguises, and of her surreptitious name, which were

spread abroad: her justice, then, felt appeased; and she ceased to

resent, though she could not to grieve, at the mortification which she

experienced.

Catching, nevertheless, the eye of Selina, she ventured to courtesy and

smile; but neither courtesy nor smile was returned: Selina looked away,

and looked confused; but rapidly continued her prattling, though without

seeming to know herself what she was uttering, to Miss Arramede.

Ellis, disconcerted, then proceeded, with no other interruption than an

'Ah ha! are you there, The Ellis?' from Miss Crawley; and an 'Oh ho! how

do do, The Ellis?' from Miss Di.

At the sound, however, of her name, Lady Barbara Frankland, starting

from a little group, of which she had been the orator, exclaimed,

'Ellis?--Is Miss Ellis come?' And, skipping to the place where Ellis was

seated, expressed the most lively pleasure at her sight, mixt with much

affectionate regret at their long separation.

This was a kindness the most reviving to Ellis, who was now approached,

also, by Lady Kendover; and, while respectfully courtesying to a cold

salutation from that lady, one of her hands was suddenly seized, and

warmly pressed by Selina.

Excited by the example of Lady Kendover, various ladies, who, from

meeting Ellis at the houses of her several scholars, had been struck

with her merit, and had conceived a regard for her person, flocked

towards her, as if she had now first entered the room. Yet the notice of

Lady Kendover was merely a civil vehicle, to draw from her attractions

the young and partial Lady Barbara.

Miss Arbe no sooner saw her thus surrounded, than, alertly advancing,

and assuming the character and state of a patroness, she complacently

bowed around her, saying, 'How kind you all are to my _Protegee_!'

Miss Sycamore ended this scene, by calling upon one of the young ladies

to open the rehearsal.

She called, however, in vain; every one declared herself too much

frightened to take the lead; and those whose eager eyes rolled

incessantly round the room, in search of admirers; and whose little

laughs, animated gestures, and smiling refusals, invited solicitation,

were the most eloquent in talking of their timidity, and delaying their

exhibition; each being of opinion that the nearer she could place her

performance to the conclusion, the nearer she should approach to the

post of honour.

To finish these difficulties, Miss Arbe desired Ellis to sing and play.

Ellis, whose hopes were all alive, that she might spare herself this

hazardous experiment, demanded a previous conference; but Miss Arbe was

deaf and blind to whatever interfered with the vivacity of her

proceedings; and Ellis, not daring, without more certain authority than

that of Mr Giles Arbe, to proclaim her intended change of measures, was

forced to give way; though with an unwillingness so palpable, that she

inspired general pity.

Mr Scope himself would have handed her to the orchestra, but that he

apprehended such a step might be deemed an action of gallantry, and as

such affect the public opinion of his morals; and Mr Giles Arbe would

have been enchanted to have shewn her his high regard, but that the

possibility of so doing, occurred to him only when the opportunity was

past. Sir Marmaduke Crawley, however, studiously devoted to the arts,

set apart, alike, the rumours which, at one time, raised Ellis to a

level with the rest of the company, and, at another, sunk her beneath

their domestics; and, simply considering her claim to good breeding and

attention, as an elegant artist, courteously offered her his hand.

Somewhat comforted by this little mark of respect, Ellis accepted it

with so much grace, and crossed the apartment with an air so

distinguished, that the urbanity of Sir Marmaduke soon raised an almost

general envy of his office.

Every one now was attentive: singing charms universally: no art, no

accomplishment has such resistless attraction: it catches alike all

conditions, all ages, and all dispositions: it subdues even those whose

souls are least susceptible either to intellectual or mental harmony.

Foremost in the throng of listeners came Lady Barbara Frankland,

attended by Selina; unopposed either by Lady Kendover or Mrs Maple;

those ladies not being less desirous that their nieces should reap every

advantage from Ellis, than that Ellis should reap none in return.

But Ellis was seized with a faint panic that disordered her whole frame;

terrour took from her fingers their elasticity, and robbed her mind and

fancy of those powers, which, when free from alarm, gave grace and

meaning to her performance: and, what to herself she had played with a

taste and an expression, that the first masters would most have

admired, because best have understood, had now neither mark, spirit, nor

correctness: while her voice was almost too low to be heard, and quite

too feeble and tremulous to give pleasure.

The assembly at large was now divided between sneerers and pitiers. The

first insinuated, that Ellis thought it fine and lady-like to affect

being frightened; the second saw, and compassionated, in her failure,

the natural effect of distressed modesty, mingled with wounded pride.

Nevertheless, her fervent, but indiscriminating juvenile admirer, Lady

Barbara, echoed by Selina, enthusiastically exclaimed, 'How delightfully

she plays and sings! How adorably!'

Miss Arbe, well aware that fear alone had thus 'unstrung the lyre' of

Ellis, secretly exulted, that the _Diletanti_ would possess her name and

services for their institution, without her superiority. The Miss

Crawleys were laughing so immoderately, at Mr Giles Arbe's requesting

them to be quiet, that they did not find out that the rehearsal was

begun: and the rest of the ladies had seized the moment of performance,

for communicating to one another innumerable little secrets, which never

so aptly occur as upon such occasions; Miss Sycamore excepted, who, with

a cold and cutting sneer, uttered a malicious 'bravissima!'

Inexpressibly hurt and chagrined, Ellis precipitately quitted the

orchestra; and, addressing Miss Arbe, said, 'Alas, Madam, I am unequal

to this business! I must relinquish it altogether! And,--if I have not

been misinformed, Lady Aurora Granville--'

Miss Arbe, reddening, and looking much displeased, repeated, 'Lady

Aurora?--who has been talking to you about Lady Aurora?'

Ellis would have declined giving her authority; but Miss Arbe, without

scruple, named Mr Giles. 'That tiresome old creature,' she cried, 'is

always doing some mischief. He's my cousin, to be sure; and he's a very

good sort of man, and all that; but I don't believe it's possible for an

old soul to be more troublesome. As to this little sum of Lord

Melbury's--'

'Lord Melbury's?' repeated Ellis, much agitated, 'If it be Lord

Melbury's, I have, indeed, no claim to make! But I had hoped Lady

Aurora--'

'Well, well, Lady Aurora, if you will. It's Lady Aurora, to be sure, who

sends it for you; but still--'

'She has, indeed, then, sent it for me?' cried Ellis, rapturously;

'sweet, amiable Lady Aurora!--Oh! when will the hour come--'

She checked her speech; but could not check the brilliant colour, the

brightened countenance, which indicated the gay ideas that internally

consoled her recent mortification.

'And why, Madam,' she soon more composedly, yet with spirit, added,

'might I not be indulged with the knowledge of her ladyship's goodness

to me? Why is Mr Giles Arbe to be blamed for so natural a communication?

Had it, happily, reached me sooner, it might have spared me the distress

and disgrace of this morning?'

She then earnestly requested to receive what was so kindly meant for her

succour, upon milder terms than such as did violence to her disposition,

and were utterly unfitting to her melancholy situation.

Somewhat embarrassed, and extremely piqued, Miss Arbe made no reply but

a fretful 'Pish!'

'Lady Aurora,' continued Ellis, 'is so eminently good, so feelingly

delicate, that if any one would have the charity to name my petition to

her ladyship, she would surely consent to let me change the destination

of what she so generously assigns to me.'

Her eyes here glanced anxiously towards Lady Barbara; who, unable to

resist their appeal, sprang from Lady Kendover, into the little circle

that was now curiously forming around Ellis; eagerly saying, 'Miss

Ellis, 'tis to me that Lady Aurora wrote that sweet letter, about the

fifty pounds; and I'll send for it to shew you this moment.'

'Do, little lady, do!' cried Mr Giles, smiling and nodding, 'you are the

sweetest little soul amongst them all!'

Laughing and delighted, she was dancing away; but Lady Kendover, gently

stopping her, said, 'You are too young, yet, my dear, to be aware of the

impropriety of making private letters public.'

'Well, then, at least, Miss Ellis,' she cried, 'I will tell you that one

paragraph, for I have read it so often and often that I have got it by

heart, it's so very beautiful! "You will entreat Miss Arbe, my dear Lady

Barbara, since she is so good as to take the direction of this

concert-enterprize, to employ this little loan to the best advantage for

Miss Ellis, and the most to her satisfaction. Loan I call it, for Miss

Ellis, I know, will pay it, if not in money, at least in a thousand

sweetnesses, of a thousand times more value."'

Ellis, touched with unspeakable pleasure, was forced to put her hand

before her eyes.

'"Don't let her consult Miss Ellis about its acceptance. Miss Ellis will

decline every thing that is personal; and every thing that is personal

is what I most wish to present to her. I beg Miss Arbe will try to find

out what she most requires, and endeavour to supply it unnamed.

'"Oh! could I but discover what would sooth, would console her! How

often I think of her! How I love to recollect her enchanting talents,

and to dwell upon every hour that I passed in her endearing society! Why

did not Lady Kendover know her at that time? She could not, then, my

dear Lady Barbara, have wished you a sweeter companion. Even Mrs Howel

was nearly as much captivated by her elegance and manners, as I was, and

must ever remain, by her interesting qualities, and touching

sensibility. O be kind to her, Lady Barbara! for my sake be kind to her:

I am quite, quite unhappy that I have no power to be so myself!"'

Tears now rolled in resistless streams down the cheeks of Ellis, though

from such heartfelt delight, that her eyes, swimming in liquid lustre,

shone but more brightly.

Nevertheless, the respect which such a panegyric might have excited in

the assembly at large, was nearly lost through the rapidity with which

it was uttered by the eager Lady Barbara; and nothing short of the

fascinated attention, and quick consciousness given by deep personal

interest, could have made it completely intelligible even to Ellis: but

to the sounds we wish to hear the heart beats responsive: it seizes them

almost unpronounced.

Revived, re-animated, enchanted, Ellis now, with grace, with modesty,

yet with firmness, renewed her request to Miss Arbe; who, assuming a

lively air, though palpably provoked and embarrassed, answered, that

Miss Ellis did not at all understand her own interest; and declared that

she had taken the affair in hand herself, merely to regulate it to the

best advantage; adding, 'You shall see, now, the surprise I had prepared

for you, if that blabbing old cousin of mine had not told you every

thing before hand.'

Then, in a tone of perfectly restored self-complacency, she produced a

packet, and, with a parading look, that said, See what I bestow upon

you! ostentatiously spread its contents upon a table.

'Now,' she cried, 'Miss Ellis, I hope I shall have the good fortune to

please you! see what a beautiful gown I have bought you!'

The gown was a sarcenet of a bright rose-colour; but its hue, though the

most vivid, was pale to the cheeks of Ellis, as she repeated, 'A gown,

Madam? Permit me to ask--for what purpose?'

'For what purpose?--To sing at our concert, you know! It's just the

thing you want the most in the world. How could you possibly do without

it, you know, when you come to appear before us all in public?'

While Ellis hesitated what to reply, to a measure which, thus conducted,

and thus announced, seemed to her unequivocally impertinent, the packet

itself was surrounded by an eager tribe of females, and five or six

voices broke forth at once, with remarks, or animadversions, upon the

silk.

'How vastly pretty it is!' cried Miss Arramede, addressing herself

courteously to Miss Arbe.

'Yes, pretty enough, for what it is meant for,' answered Miss Sycamore;

glancing her eyes superciliously towards Ellis.

'Pray, Miss Arbe, what did you give a yard for it,' demanded Miss Bydel;

'and how much will the body-lining come to? I hope you know of a cheap

mantua-maker?'

'Bless me, how fine you are going to make The Ellis!' cried Miss

Crawley: 'why I shall take her for a rose!'

'Why then The Ellis will be The rose!' said Miss Di; 'but I should

sooner take her for my wax-doll, when she's all so pinky winky.'

'Why then The Ellis will be The doll!' cried Miss Crawley.

The two sisters now seated, or rather threw themselves upon a sofa, to

recover from the excessive laughter with which they were seized at their

own pleasantry; and which was exalted nearly to extacy, by the wide

stare, and uplifted hands, of Mr Giles Arbe.

'It's horridly provoking one can't wear that colour one's self,' said

Miss Arramede, 'for it's monstrously pretty.'

'Pretty?' repeated Miss Brinville: 'I hope, Miss Arramede, you don't

wish to wear such a frightful vulgar thing, because it's pretty?'

'Well, I think it's vastly well,' said Miss Sycamore, yawning; 'so don't

abuse it. As our uniform is fixed to be white, with violet-ornaments, it

was my thought to beg Miss Arbe would order something of this shewy sort

for Miss Ellis; to distinguish us _Diletanti_ from the artists.'

It was not Ellis alone who felt the contemptuous haughtiness of this

speech; the men all dropt their eyes; and Lady Barbara expressively

exclaimed, 'Miss Ellis can't help looking as beautiful and as elegant as

an angel, let her dress how she will!'

All obstacles being now removed for continuing the rehearsal, the

willing Lady-artists flocked around Miss Arbe; and songs were sung, and

lessons upon the piano forte, or harp, were played; with a readiness of

compliance, taken, by the fair performers, for facility of execution;

and with a delight in themselves that elevated their spirits to rapture;

since it was the criterion whence they calculated the pleasure that they

imparted to others.

The pieces which they had severally selected were so long, and the

compliments which the whole company united to pour forth after every

performance, were so much longer, that the day was nearly closing, when

Ellis was summoned to finish the act.

Ellis, who had spent this interval first in curious, next in civil, and

lastly in forced attention, rose now with diminished timidity, to obey

the call. It was not that she thought better of the scheme, but that it

appeared to her less formidable; her original determination, therefore,

to make her best exertions, returned with more effect, and she executed

a little prelude with precision and brilliancy; and then accompanied

herself in a slow and plaintive air, with a delicacy, skill, and

expression, at once touching and masterly.

This concluded the first act; and the first act was so long, that it was

unanimously agreed, that some new regulations must be adopted, before

the second and third could be rehearsed.

Every piece which had followed the opening performance, or, rather,

failure, of Ellis, had been crowned with plaudits. Every hand had

clapped every movement; every mouth had burst forth with exclamations of

praise: Ellis alone was heard in silence; for Ellis was unprotected,

unsustained, unknown. Her situation was mysterious, and seemed open at

times, to the most alarming suspicions; though the unequivocal

regularity and propriety of her conduct, snatched her from any positive

calumny. Yet neither this, nor the most striking talents, could have

brought her forward, even for exhibition, into such an assembly, but for

the active influence of Miss Arbe; who, shrewd, adroit, and vigilant,

never lost an opportunity to serve herself, while seeming to serve

others.

The fortune of this young lady was nearly as limited as her ambition and

vanity were extensive; she found, therefore, nothing so commodious, as

to repay the solid advantages which she enjoyed, gratuitously, from

various artists, by patronage; and she saw, in the present case, an

absolute necessity, either to relinquish her useful and elegant

mistress, as an unknown adventurer, not proper to be presented to people

of fashion; or to obviate the singular obstacles to supporting her, by

making them become a party themselves in the cause of her _protegee_,

through the personal interest of a subscription for their own

amusement.

Nevertheless, Ellis, after a performance which, if fairly heard, and

impartially judged, must have given that warm delight that excites

'spirit-stirring praise,' was heard in silence; though had a single

voice been raised in her favour, nearly every voice would have joined in

chorus. But her patroness was otherwise engaged, and Lady Barbara was

gone; no one, therefore, deemed it prudent to begin. Neglect is still

more contagious than admiration: it is more natural, perhaps, to man,

from requiring less trouble, less candour, less discernment, and less

generosity. The _Diletanti_, also, already reciprocally fatigued, were

perfectly disposed to be as parsimonious to all without their own line,

as they were prodigal to all within it, of those sweet draughts of

flattery, which they had so liberally interchanged with one another.

Miss Arbe considered her own musical debts to be cancelled, from the

moment that she had introduced her _protegee_ into this assembly. She

was wholly, therefore, indifferent to what might give her support, or

mortification; and had taken the time of her performance, to demand a

general consultation, whether the first harmonic meeting should be held

in the apartment of Lady Arramede, which was the most magnificent; or in

that of Miss Sycamore, which, though superb, was the least considerable

amongst the select subscribers.

This was a point of high importance, and of animated discussion. The

larger apartment would best excite the expectations of the public, and

open the business in the highest style; but the smaller would be the

most crowded;--there would not be room to stir a step;--scarcely a soul

could get a seat;--some of the company must stand upon the stairs;--'O

charming!'--'O delightful!'--was echoed from mouth to mouth; and the

motion in favour of Miss Sycamore was adopted by acclamation.

Ellis now, perceiving that the party was breaking up, advanced to Miss

Arbe, and earnestly requested to be heard; but Miss Arbe, looking as if

she did not know, and was too busy to enquire what this meant, protested

herself quite bewildered with the variety of matters which she had to

arrange; and, shaking hands with Miss Sycamore, was hurrying away, when

the words 'Must I address myself, then, Madam, to Lady Aurora!' startled

her, and she impatiently answered, 'By no means! Lady Aurora has put the

money into my hands, and I have disposed of it to the very best

advantage.'

'Disposed of it----I hope not!--I hope--I trust--that, knowing the

generous wishes of Lady Aurora to indulge, as well as to relieve me, you

have not disposed of so considerable a sum, without permitting me first

to state to you, how and in what manner her ladyship's benevolence may

most effectually be answered?'

Miss Arbe, evidently more disturbed though more civil, lowered her tone;

and, taking Ellis apart, gently assured her, that the whole had been

applied exclusively for her profit, in music, elegant desks, the hire of

instruments, and innumerable things, requisite for opening the concert

upon a grand scale; as well as for the prettiest gown in the world,

which, she was sure, would become her of all things.

Ellis, with undisguised astonishment, asked by what arrangement it could

justly be settled, that the expences of a subscription-concert should be

drawn from the bounty of one lady; that lady absent, and avowedly

sending her subscription merely for the service of an individual of the

sett?

'That's the very thing!' cried Miss Arbe, with vivacity: 'her ladyship's

sending it for that one performer, has induced me to make this very

arrangement; for, to tell you the truth, if Lady Aurora had not been so

considerate for you, the whole scheme must have been demolished; and if

so, poor Miss Ellis! what would become of you, you know?'

Then, with a volubility that shewed, at once, her fear of expostulation,

and her haste to have done, she sought to explain that, without the

necessary preparations, there could be no concert; without a concert

Miss Ellis could not be known; without being known, how could she

procure any more scholars? and without procuring scholars, how avoid

being reduced again to the same pitiable state, as that from which Miss

Arbe had had the pleasure to extricate her? And, in short, to save

further loss of time, she owned that it was too late to make any change,

as the whole fifty pounds was entirely spent.

It was not, now, chagrin alone, nor disappointment, nor anxiety, that

the speaking features of Ellis exhibited; indignation had a strong

portion of their expression; but Miss Arbe awaited not the remonstrance

that they announced: more courteous, while more embarrassed, she took

Ellis by the hand, and caressingly said, 'Lady Aurora knows--for I have

written to her ladyship myself,--that every smiling is laid out for your

benefit;--only we must have a beginning, you know,--so you won't

distress poor Lady Aurora, by seeming discontented, after all that she

has done for you? It would be cruel, you know, to distress her.'

With all its selfishness, Ellis felt the truth of this observation with

respect to Lady Aurora, as forcibly as its injustice with regard to

herself. She sighed from helplessness how to seek any redress; and Miss

Arbe, still fawningly holding her hand, added, 'But you don't think to

steal away without giving us another air?--Miss Sycamore!--Sir

Marmaduke!--Sir Lyell! pray help me to persuade Miss Ellis to favour us

with one more air.'

Disgusted and fatigued, Ellis would silently have retired; but the

signal being given by Miss Arbe, all that remained of the assembly

professed themselves to be dying for another piece; and Ellis, pressed

to comply with an eagerness that turned solicitation into persecution,

was led, once more, by Sir Marmaduke, to the orchestra.

Here, her melancholy and distressed feelings again marred her

performance; she scarcely knew what she played, nor how she sung; her

execution lost its brilliancy, and her expression its refined

excellence: but Miss Arbe, conscious of the cause, and alarmed lest any

appeal to Lady Aurora should sully her own character of patroness,

hoped, by the seductive bribery of flattery, to stifle complaint. She

was the first, therefore, to applaud; and her example animated all

around, except the supercilious Miss Sycamore, and the jealous Miss

Brinville, whom envy rendered inveterate. 'How exquisite!'--'How

sweet!'--'How incomparable!'--'What taste!'--'What sounds!'--'What

expression!'--now accompanied almost every bar of the wavering,

incorrect performance; though not even an encouraging buzz of

approbation, had cheered the exertions of the same performer during the

elegant and nearly finished piece, by which it had been preceded. The

public at large is generally just, because too enormous to be

individually canvassed; but private circles are almost universally

biassed by partial or prejudiced influence.

Miss Arbe chose now to conclude, that every objection was obviated; and

Ellis strove vainly to obtain a moment's further attention, from the

frivolous flutter, and fancied perplexities, of busy self-consequence.

The party broke up: the company dispersed; and the poor, unconsidered,

unaided _protegee_, dejectedly left the house, at the same moment that

it was quitted triumphantly, by her vain, superficial, unprotecting

patroness.

The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 2 of 5) · 第 13 / 21 章