CHAPTER I.

THE

EXCLUSIVES.

VOL. I.

THE

EXCLUSIVES.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON:

HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,

NEW BURLINGTON STREET.

1830.

LONDON:

Printed by J. L. Cox, Great Queen Street,

Lincoln's-Inn Fields.

THE EXCLUSIVES.

CHAPTER I.

THE BOUDOIR.

The boudoir of a woman of fashion exhibits in its history, if

faithfully recorded, a picture of the manners, modes, and morals of the

times; and, however little such things in themselves might deserve to

be handed down, or registered as objects of imitation, yet to chronicle

them for the day would not be without its use. The sensible part of

mankind would laugh at the follies, and wonder at the extravagance,

which the page of such ephemeral history unfolded; while the actors in

the scene might possibly view in the mirror held up to them their own

lives, and their own actions, in a new and truer light.

Lady Tilney's boudoir,--the boudoir _par excellence_,--was not in fact

a boudoir, according to the old legitimate meaning of the word. Indeed,

Lady Tilney herself, the presiding deity of the sanctuary, professed

her contempt of legitimacy in boudoirs, as well as in sovereigns; at

least she did so in words, though, like many other professors, her

words and actions frequently contradicted each other; and it may be

questioned if there are any greater despots, than those who inveigh

most against despotism.

But to return from this digression to the boudoir. Lady Tilney's

boudoir was destined to the reception of far other votaries than

those of the old _rabattu_ god of love. No: her boudoir was visited

by persons of a very different character from those who were formerly

the frequenters of such a scene. Authors, poets, political intriguers,

artists, and committees for the management of the state of society,

formed the chief personages among those who figured there, and their

business was of a very different complexion from that of the supposed

use, or original meaning ascribed to a boudoir.

In the former, of old, the painted harpsichord, the huge cabinet, the

gigantic chimney-piece, the tapestried wall, were suited to the silken

garb, and bag and sword, that formed the attire of the male part of

its visitants; as well as to the hoop and fly-cap of the ladies who

presided there. In this modern temple of idolatry, only a few of

the ancient decorations were allowed a place, such as the marquetry

cabinet, the _or-moulu_ clock, or vase of China; but for the rest, what

a change!

Volumes of worth, and works of merit and deep learning, were now

covered by the novels of the day, or hidden by trivial elegancies newly

imported from Paris; while on the walls, the rare productions of Titian

or Vandyck were intermingled with some chalky portrait of the modern

school, tricked out in the millinery geer of the fashion of the day.

Scattered on the tables, however, there was a redeeming feature in the

character of the decorative objects which met the eye, for there lay

some richly chased gold ornaments, the works of Benvenuto Cellini, or

some one not less skilful, though it may be of forgotten name; and

while these ornamented the apartment, they served the double purpose of

affording Lady Tilney an opportunity, not only to discourse on their

beauty, but to enter into all the particulars of Cellini's strange life.

Add to this description of the boudoir and its visitants, the

occasional presence of Lady Tilney's beautiful children, and its

portraiture is closed; but not so the genius and history of all the

transactions, councils, and cabals which took place there. These will

be best understood, by passing from the boudoir to Lady Tilney's own

character and pursuits; if to describe these by any means were indeed

possible: but it would be an endless, hopeless task, to enumerate all

that Lady Tilney did, or fancied _she did_--still more what she said;

for to do her justice, her's was no vapid existence of the mere routine

of a London lady's life.

No--indolence was not the besetting sin, insipidity was not the vice

of her _morale_ or her _physique_. But as to enumerating severally the

subjects which employed her care, and the various branches of these

subjects into which she diverged, that indeed would be difficult. Her

life and occupations may, perhaps, be best delineated by representing

them as one vast bazar of interests, all equally claiming her

attention--"the court, the camp, the senate, and the field:" certainly

the field of Newmarket, where it is said she regulated her husband's

calculations and interests with great success.

These objects, and many more than these, which, as the charlatans say

at the end of their lists, are too tedious to mention, filled up the

life of this laborious and distinguished lady. Nor were her labours

less onerous in managing the government of the society of _ton_. Her

rule was there despotic--her word was law;--and if some few persons

pretended to step aside, not following the fashionable multitude in

bowing the knee to Baal, or ventured to think for themselves in the

circle in which she moved, immediately, as though by an enchanter's

wand, they were banished thence, and some more amalgamating spirit

was chosen to fill up the vacancy. There was a kind of air-gun fired,

which was sure to hit the mark, without betraying the hand that drew

the trigger: a sort of _lettre-de-cachet_, as effectual as those

promulgated in the times of Louis le Grand, which consigned to oblivion

the offending persons, while the victims themselves could not fathom

any cause or assign any particular reason for the sentence.

Nevertheless, in the very midst of this ruling and reigning, this

despotic sway in the court of _ton_, a secret dissatisfaction existed

in the breast of Lady Tilney. She, indeed, was one of those haughty

liberals who affect to despise kings and courts; not because they

dislike those necessary evils, as they call them, but because they are

themselves, or would be if they could, the greatest of all sovereigns.

Notwithstanding, therefore, the high ground of rank and situation

on which she stood, it rankled at her heart to have offended her

sovereign, and to feel herself an object of just dislike to him; for,

however great the magnanimity shewn to her on the occasion of her

offence, still to be aware that, under circumstances, she could no

longer be considered a favourite at court, was in itself a source of

the deepest mortification. Impressed with this consciousness, what was

to be done? Why, render all courts the subject of flippant raillery;

vote them and their sovereigns old-fashioned bores; erect herself into

a queen, and have a court of her own. In truth, this plan agreed better

with her self-love than any other; because sovereigns and courts, in as

far as regards the outward decorum of forms, regulate and keep society

in its proper course; whereas, under the sham dynasty of _ton_, caprice

bears rule, and tyranny in its worst sense marks the conduct of those

who sit on its ephemeral throne.

Connected with this system, the pride of ancestry too was necessarily

another subject of ridicule with Lady Tilney, who thought that those

who, on such grounds, pretended to take any lead in the world of

fashion, had much better retire to their castles, and there indulge in

dreams of their greatness.

Nor did Lady Tilney's thirst for power end with her effort for

universal dominion in matters of _ton_--she had another ambition,

that of leading and controlling the political party to which she had

attached herself. Here, however, her sway was more imaginary than real;

and often the long-headed politician, or crafty diplomate, as they

listened with apparent complacency to her advice, allowed her words

to fall unheeded on their ear, or laughed at her in secret. With the

young and uninformed aspirants in the career of political life, Lady

Tilney had, perhaps, more success; and many a rising scion of a noble

house has been known to adopt, under the influence of her smiles, and

from a foolish vanity of being noticed by her, a line of conduct quite

at variance with the wishes of their parents, and to the sacrifice of

their own best interests.

In this grasp at power, however successfully achieved, Lady Tilney felt

herself ill at ease--her mind was continually harassed by reflections

on the tottering and uncertain tenure of _ton_, and the possibility,

nay, probability, of some younger, newer person, climbing to the

envied seat which she then possessed. The fear of a certain Duchess

of Hermanton was constantly before her imagination, as the embodied

object of her alarm; and she considered it as a measure little short

of self-preservation, to secure her influence, if possible, on a still

firmer basis, by some decided act, or the invention of some fresh

folly. As to Almack's, that circle of exclusiveness had been polluted;

its brief course was run, and its brightness on the decline.

The more Lady Tilney reflected on the subject, the more she became

convinced of the expediency of her intentions; and determined,

therefore, to mature her plan immediately. Having despatched her notes

to the Comtesse Leinsengen, Lady Tenderden, and Lady Ellersby, she

commanded that no one should be admitted to her presence but themselves.

"Yet stay, Destouches," she added to the page, as she issued her

orders; "Prince Luttermanne by all means, should he call." And then,

having given audience to three cooks, four painters, two authors, an

authoress, and several milliners, she finished with advice to a poet

and a critique upon his work.

Lady Tilney, before the arrival of the personages she had written to

(for Lady Tilney knew the value of intervals), arranged her list of

engagements; tossing some into the fire--with the velocity of one well

practised in the weight, measure, and value of names; and examining

others of more importance. She determined to mar all that might

interfere with her own views in society.--"Mrs. Annesly, truly what

a griffin! and the Countess of Delamere, and Lady Melcombe!--but the

Marchioness of Borrowdale! that indeed requires attention." Lady Tilney

rang the bell--Destouches appeared in a minute--the peculiar hasty

touch of call was known to the well-appointed page. "Send Arquimbeaud

here!" and the distinguished Arquimbeaud soon obeyed the summons. "I

have determined to have a party, Arquimbeaud, next Thursday; see that

cards are issued for that day, according to this list."

As he withdrew, Comtesse Leinsengen was announced. The immense bonnet

and deep veil--the splendid cashmere and still long petticoats

(although they were generally worn very much shortened), afforded a

favourable costume to the lady who now advanced; certain defects were

thus concealed, and imagination might lend that delicacy of slimness

and form to the feet and ancles which pervaded the rest of the person,

but which did not characterize those of the Comtesse.

The rapid volubility of the one lady, and the sharp short sentences

of the other, began the conference. Lady Tilney placed the most

luxurious of all the luxurious chairs close to the fire, pushed

forward the screen, and with the eagerness of apparent friendship,

seemed to wish to make her visitor quite at home: or, as she expressed

it, "deliciously comfortable." "You have learned that word now,

dear Comtesse,--indeed you have adopted it; and there is no one who

understands the thing so perfectly as yourself."

Midst all these courtesies and courtings the Comtesse observed a

sort of abstracted air, though they were (and so far Lady Tilney was

sincere) things of course.

"My dear Comtesse, I am so glad we have a minute alone, to discuss

our plans. I have many things of consequence to say to you; but before

I begin I must speak to you of that horrible affair of poor Lady

Mailing's; it is quite impossible to support her any longer, for you

are aware her secret is publicly known. So long as she was prudent,

and observed appearances, it was all very well; but _now_ it will

be impossible for me to receive her. You know I never did receive

any body who placed themselves in a similar situation--not even my

own relations; my character has always been _intacte_, and I cannot

_compromète_ myself, though I am very sorry for poor Lady Mailing;

and had she only avoided this _esclandre_, and managed her affair

prudently, I would have stood by her to the end; but as it is--"

"Oh, certainly not," interrupted the Comtesse; "you must be conscious

that every one knows Lady Tilney's high reputation, and it would never

be supposed dat you would countenance a belle passion; vraiment, quand

on est tellement dupe as to sacrifice sa position dans le monde, to a

man's vanity, or to be playing de sentimentale at forty, it is quite

enough to make one sick, and she well deserves to be vat you call

blown. _Mais, de grâce_, do not let us prose more about her--_vat

sinifies?_"

"Oh, very true, and then there are other matters of so much greater

consequence to consider. Do you really think that this administration

will hold--you who are in all the secrets?--positively you must tell

me. I am sure if that man (lowering her voice to a whisper) is at the

head of affairs, all must go wrong--poor England! what will become of

you? But we will never allow that--shall we?"

"Oh! trève de politiques, ma chere, si vous m'aimez; it is a subject

quite marital, and therefore, you know, not at all in my way. What I

want to revolutionize, or rather to reform, is your state of society."

"Precisely, my dear Comtesse, it is the very subject on which I wished

to talk to you, when I wrote requesting to see you--you received my

note, did you not?"

"Oh, yes; but it is an affair on which we hold such very different

opinions. My maxim is, se bien amuser d'après sa propre volonté--that

is what I want to do; and to tell you the truth, I am ennuyé à la mort

in your London world--every thing is so stupid here! Vat signify dat

tiresome Almack, after all? It was good enough at first, when it put

people in a passion, et pendant que se faisoit fureur; but now that,

somehow or oder, you liberales admitted every petite demoiselle vid her

red elbows, and vulgar mama to take care of her, it has lost all its

character, and I positively intend to withdraw my name. Besides, de

lady patronesses cannot even maintain a seat at de top of de room--de

oder night I find Lady Melcombe and her daughter perch up in my seat;

and though I walked over them and stared them down, dey positively took

no hint, but sat still so comfortably vulgar it was quite provoking.

No, no, my dear, Almack's day is finish and de thing must fall--so

never stay by a falling friend; when a person or a ting begins to

totter, leave it."

"Very true," rejoined Lady Tilney; "there is much truth in what you

advise (and she looked very grave). But then, you know, my dear

Comtesse, you must consider the independence of our constitution--which

makes it very difficult--"

"Not to have a stupid society.--Agreed."

"But the great number of our nobility," rejoined Lady Tilney, "and the

weight and consequence of a still greater number of influential members

in the other house"----

"Renders all your pretences of a société choisie mere pretence."

"Pardon me, Comtesse, you have yourself owned that my parties are

select; and you yourself, although in a public situation, contrive

to leave out those who do not suit your purpose. After all, what can

tend more to the preservation of society?--than such impertinence" was

on Lady Tilney's tongue; but she checked herself, and added with a

little cough that gave time for reflexion: "What can tend more to the

maintenance of a société distinguée than the exercise of this choice,

made without reference to the rank or situation of the parties, but

merely dependent on the voice of the few who are formed to lead?"

"Very true," rejoined the Comtesse Leinsengen, "and if that system

was properly upheld, it is the only chance of not being _obsédé_ by

vulgars;--but you do not act upon it sufficiently. As to myself, I can

no long bear de whole ting; my health does not permit of your late

hours, and I generally go away when your company are beginning to

arrive. And then these great routs of your Duchess D'Hermantons and

your Ladi Borrowdales and Aveling, sont à dormir de bout."

"Agreed, my dear Comtesse, I do so agree with you; it is the very

matter I am longing to discuss with you. Do let us settle something

amongst ourselves, that shall rid us of all these evils, and establish

a _société à part_. I must tell you what I have already done to effect

this purpose. You know that odious Lady Borrowdale has one of her

everlasting At Homes next Thursday, to meet their Royal Highnesses the

---- as usual, that vulgar decoy; so I have therefore countermanded my

former invitations, and issued my cards for that very day--Nobody will

go there, will they?"

"Perhaps not many; and if some do, there are plenty left."

"Yes," said Lady Tilney, with ill-concealed anxiety, "but you know the

royalties always do accept her invitations."

"What matters dat--you do not care for royalties." For an instant

Lady Tilney's command of language was checked--she almost betrayed her

vexation, when fortunately the name of Lady Ellersby was announced,

whose dawdling drawl, as she entered the apartment, smoothed over the

asperities which began to mark the conversation, and which might have

rendered it in the end a little too _piquante_.

"My dear Lady Ellersby," said Lady Tilney, "how charmed I am to

see you. I was dying to meet you, to consult you, to enjoy your

entertaining society." The Comtesse Leinsengen smiled significantly, as

she said, "And so was I."

"Consult me! La--well, that is something quite new--nobody ever

consulted me; but pray explain what you mean."

"Oh! we want to establish some regulations by which our society shall

be distinguished, and which shall save us from the inroads of all these

people whom we are constantly meeting, and obliged to be civil to,

whether we will or no--in short, something that shall make us, as we

ought to be--a _race à part_."

"I thought," Lady Ellersby replied, "we always were that."--"To

be sure we were; but then, my dear, you know abuses will creep in,

and all constitutions require from time to time to be strengthened

or reformed, according to circumstances; and you know, my dear Lady

Ellersby, that we have all of us long since lamented that Almack's,

which was excellent in its way, has now, from the infringement on

its privileges, become quite corrupted from its original design, and

something positively must be done, or we shall be overwhelmed _en

masse_--something to stem this torrent, this inroad of Goths and

Vandals."

"Dear me, that sounds very alarming--you quite frighten me; I don' t

understand you--pray tell me what it is you propose."

"Why," answered Lady Tilney, "we wish to form a society entirely

to ourselves, which shall be quite exclusive--a society for which

we shall settle _d'avance_ every particular and qualification of

the persons who may be admitted to it. Thus you see (turning to the

Comtesse Leinsengen), my dear Comtesse, we shall never do any thing

but in concert with each other, and never invite any one but those who

entirely suit us. You understand me now, don't you?" addressing Lady

Ellersby.

"Oh dear, yes! I think I do."

"No, no, you do not understand her. Permettez--in one word I will

explain vat Lady Tilney mean to say: voici le mot de l'énigme--you are

all English, and though you do your _possible_ you cannot help being

English. You are all afraid in dis country to do vat you like best; and

though Lady Tilney propose to ask only de chosen few, you will none of

you do so in reality, take my word for dat. You talk freedom, but act

in chains. Now we, au contraire, _chez nous_--we women I mean--do de

freedom, and never tink of de chain at all; but whenever you ladies

make your lists for your parties for instance; den comes--dis is not

politic, _toder_ is not right,--dis is not my husband's pleasure; some

scarecrow or anoder is always driving you off de land of amusement. Now

you say you will open your doors only to those you like, and you are

right--dere is no oder secret for to make pleasant society; but you

will _not_ do it nevertheless, ladies, for you are all de cowards."

"Indeed, my dear Comtesse," rejoined Lady Tilney, "you will find

that we _shall_, though--and I think effectually; although there are

certain principles in our constitution which extend to the ruling even

of private life--and these the wives of certain nobles cannot wholly

overlook." Comtesse Leinsengen shrugged her shoulders.

"Ah, dear, it is as I thought, you are de woman I like best in dis

country; but you are all over shackle, up to de ear in de _qu'en dira

t'on_! De plebe ought to be made of de noble's opinion, not de noble

constrained to dat of de vulgar."

"That may do very well with you," rejoined Lady Tilney, "but with us

as an unqualified maxim it will never do. I grant, Comtesse, all that

you say can be done in one's own house, where one makes one's own laws

and rules in one's own way: so far it is only asserting one's own right

to liberty, and as far as we can persuade people to be of the same way

of thinking it is all right. But I have too much liberty in my heart to

desire to tyrannize as you suggest; and, in fine, confess myself too

much of an Englishwoman to wish to see your system prevailing amongst

us."

Lady Tilney said this in a tone of English pride, which proved that she

had not forgotten all that was best worth remembering, although it was

in contradiction to the spirit of what had fallen from her a moment

before.

Lady Tilney, however, dealt largely in contradiction at all times. The

Countess Ellersby smiled; the Comtesse Leinsengen again shrugged her

shoulders, drew her shawl around her, and was preparing to depart,

saying, "Well! mes chères dames, I leave you to the enjoyment of your

liberty, and have done."

"But I have not done," said Lady Tilney; "I am determined we shall

have a society that shall be quite our own, and yet not subversive of

principles we must uphold. (Another shrug of the shoulders.) Allow me

to say, that if you, Comtesse, and you, my dear Lady Ellersby, will

but second me, I am sure we shall not fail, and I know I may reckon on

Prince Luttermanne co-operating with us;--so far so good."

"And Princesse Luttermanne?" inquired Lady Ellersby.

"Oh, for the prince's sake we must have her," replied the Comtesse

Leinsengen, "D'ailleurs, _dans ma position_, it could not be

oderwise--in all cases we must pass over des inconveniens--besides she

is good-humoured, and has _her own fry to fish_, and will not trouble

us much."

Lady Ellersby and Lady Tilney looked at each other, and laughed. "And

then," observed Lady Tilney, "we have Princesse de la Grange, and

Mrs. Kirchoffer; we must enrol them on our list (although they are

sufficiently insipid), because they can be useful, and dare not act

but in subserviency to _us_. But, Lady Boileau, what shall we do with

her? She indeed has a will of her own, and she has a mother very much

_de trop_, whom however she treats cavalierly enough (of which, by the

way, I do not approve); but, notwithstanding, I think we must have her,

though we can by no means be troubled with the mama."

"Certainment pas," cried the Comtesse, "for the Irish mama with her

vulgar repartee would give a mauvaise tournure to de whole society."

"There you are right; and while we admit the daughter, remember, it

is only on sufferance, just on the same footing as we admit Mrs.

Kirchoffer, and as I propose that we should also do Lady de Chere and

Lady Hamlet Vernon, and----"

"Mais, que faire de la jeune lady," interrupted the Comtesse, "qui

parmi un certain set is a good deal de vogue, Ladi--Ladi,--vat you name

her?"

"What, Lady Baskerville?" asked Lady Tilney; and then replied, "Oh

she must be one of us, to be sure, for I think we can make use of

her--she only longs to be in the fashion, and her husband also. Flatter

their vanity, and you do with them what you chuse; make them believe

they are of the _ton_, and you have them at command."

"Well, den, now you have named all de ladies I suppose, and dere is but

one cavalier; do you mean us to be a convent, and have no gentlemen?"

"By no means, my dear Comtesse; of course there will be all our

husbands." Here the Comtesse Leinsengen had recourse to her usual

expressive gesture of contempt. "And then," proceeded Lady Tilney,

"there is the Duke of Mercington, Lord Raynham, Lord Tonnerre, Leslie

Winyard, and Frank Ombre,--Spencer Newcombe,--and we must not forget

Lord Glenmore; though I wish he were more decided in his political

creed. Besides we cannot omit Lord Albert D'Esterre, whom we must

have on probation, for he is young and only just returned from the

Continent; but they say he is very clever, and I think may in time

become one of us. But, ere we decide further on the gentlemen, we must

consult Prince Luttermanne."

"Ah! bon chere ladi" (with a nod of approval). "Quite so," added Lady

Ellersby, languidly; "for, though he is called good-humoured, he can

be as cross as is necessary. I never saw any body _walk over people_

better than he does."

Lady Tilney, who had been for the last minute or two busily employed

with her pen setting down the names which she had just mentioned,

interrupted Lady Ellersby, saying, "By the bye, there is one rule very

necessary to be observed, which I am sure we shall all agree in; that

is, to admit no unmarried ladies, unless something very particular

indeed should make us waive our resolve. When I say this, I do not,

of course, mean to _balls_; but I mean to those coteries which will

in fact constitute the élite of our society. And then I propose that

we none of us go to the old-established dullifications; but, on their

nights, each one of us must in turn take care to chuse that same

evening for our coteries."

"Dat vill do very well for de Lady Borrowdale, and de Lady Aveling,

and dat old Marchioness--vat you call her--Feuille morte; but La

Duchesse D'Hermanton, vat vill you do vid her? it is not so easy to

_take dat lionne par la barbe_."

"Oh," rejoined Lady Tilney, for this was a name she feared to offend,

"the Duchess is not one of us, it is true; but we need only walk once

a year through her apartments; and we can bear that--besides, she is

a sort of person" (apart)--and Lady Tilney broke off abruptly from a

subject, in itself always disagreeable to her.

"And now," she went on to say, "having formed the outline of our plan,

we have only to follow it up, and I am sure it will be successful. I

wonder Prince Luttermanne and Lady Tenderden are not come, for I wrote

to them both; and I should have liked that we talked the matter over

altogether. However, I cannot doubt but they will agree with us in our

arrangements; and if you, dear Comtesse, and you Lady Ellersby, will

see Princesse de la Grange and Mrs. Kirchoffer, and Lady Baskerville,

I will take care to speak to the other parties. Of course I shall see

Prince Luttermanne some time or other this day, and Lady Tenderden,

for they must have received my notes; and I will settle with him about

our gentlemen." Then addressing the Comtesse, she added, "I need not,

I am sure, remind you, who are so discreet, that the success of every

thing which is to produce éclat depends upon the secret combination of

the movements; and therefore, in speaking to the different parties,

pray impress on their minds the absolute necessity of privacy, and

not to let our designs be known beforehand by a premature publication

of them, but rather let them be developed by their effect; and when

their existence will have been confirmed beyond the possibility of

counteraction."

"Assurement laissez moi faire."--And here Lady Ellersby, looking at

her watch, started from her chair, saying, "Dear me! I had no notion

it was so late. I had an appointment with my Lord, and it is past the

time. Bless me! what shall I do?" Then making her adieu, with more

vivacity than was her custom, she departed in greater haste than she

was ever known to do before.

"Who _is her_ Milord just now?" asked Comtesse Leinsengen.

"Oh fie! malicieuse," replied Lady Tilney.

"Is it again dat little consequential personage who looks like a

perdrix santé aux truffes? I fancy I saw something like a réchauffé

getting up between them de oder night at Lady De Chere's."

"Now really, my dear Comtesse, I must defend my friend. People are

always so ill-natured--one must have some cavalier, you know, to walk

about with in public--and scandal always ascribes evil where none

exists. No, no; Lady Ellersby has too charming a husband for this to

gain credit for a moment." The Comtesse's usual shrug implied comme

vous voulez, and she added, "it is truly extraordinary how any body can

call dat ladi handsome, vid her drawn mouth and peevish expression!"

"Surely she has a sweet smile?"--"When it is not a bitter one,"

rejoined the Comtesse; "but what _sinifies_? she does very well for

what she is good for. Now I must go, and you must be de active agent in

settling our Lady Parliament; as for me, I will have a sinecure post."

"You are quite delightful, Comtesse, and ought to have every thing

your own way; so good bye, if you _must_ go. I will remember to see

Prince Luttermanne; I will not let the matter rest--adieu," and they

kissed each other's cheeks on both sides, "adieu!"--"You will not

let de matter rest--no, I am sure you will not--nor any oder ting

or person," thought the Comtesse, as she glided out of the room.

"How frightfully red her nose is become," observed Lady Tilney,

soliloquizing, as she looked at her own smooth cream-coloured skin in

the glass.