Mrs. Montacute Jones's Garden-Party
It was known to all the world that Mrs. Montacute Jones's first great
garden-party was to come off on Wednesday, 16th June, at Roehampton.
Mrs. Montacute Jones, who lived in Grosvenor Place and had a country
house in Gloucestershire, and a place for young men to shoot at in
Scotland, also kept a suburban elysium at Roehampton, in order that
she might give two garden-parties every year. When it is said that
all these costly luxuries appertained to Mrs. Montacute Jones, it
is to be understood that they did in truth belong to Mr. Jones, of
whom nobody heard much. But of Mrs. Jones,--that is, Mrs. Montacute
Jones,--everybody heard a great deal. She was an old lady who devoted
her life to the amusement of--not only her friends, but very many who
were not her friends. No doubt she was fond of Lords and Countesses,
and worked very hard to get round her all the rank and fashion of the
day. It must be acknowledged that she was a worldly old woman. But
no more good-natured old woman lived in London, and everybody liked
to be asked to her garden-parties. On this occasion there was to be
a considerable infusion of royal blood,--German, Belgian, French,
Spanish, and of native growth. Everybody who was asked would go, and
everybody had been asked,--who was anybody. Lord Silverbridge had
been asked, and Lord Silverbridge intended to be there. Lady Mary,
his sister, could not even be asked, because her mother was hardly
more than three months dead; but it is understood in the world that
women mourn longer than men.
Silverbridge had mounted a private hansom cab in which he could be
taken about rapidly,--and, as he said himself, without being shut
up in a coffin. In this vehicle he had himself taken to Roehampton,
purporting to kill two birds with one stone. He had not as yet seen
his sister since she had been with Lady Cantrip. He would on this day
come back by The Horns.
He was well aware that Lady Mab would be at the garden-party. What
place could be better for putting the question he had to ask? He was
by no means so confident as the heir to so many good things might
perhaps have been without overdue self-confidence.
Entering through the house into the lawn he encountered Mrs.
Montacute Jones, who, with a seat behind her on the terrace,
surrounded by flowers, was going through the immense labour of
receiving her guests.
"How very good of you to come all this way, Lord Silverbridge, to eat
my strawberries."
"How very good of you to ask me! I did not come to eat your
strawberries but to see your friends."
"You ought to have said you came to see me, you know. Have you met
Miss Boncassen yet?"
"The American beauty? No. Is she here?"
"Yes; and she particularly wants to be introduced to you; you won't
betray me, will you?"
"Certainly not; I am as true as steel."
"She wanted, she said, to see if the eldest son of the Duke of Omnium
really did look like any other man."
"Then I don't want to see her," said Silverbridge, with a look of
vexation.
"There you are wrong, for there was real downright fun in the way
she said it. There they are, and I shall introduce you." Then Mrs.
Montacute Jones absolutely left her post for a minute or two, and
taking the young lord down the steps of the terrace did introduce him
to Mr. Boncassen, who was standing there amidst a crowd, and to Miss
Boncassen the daughter.
Mr. Boncassen was an American who had lately arrived in England with
the object of carrying out certain literary pursuits in which he was
engaged within the British Museum. He was an American who had nothing
to do with politics and nothing to do with trade. He was a man of
wealth and a man of letters. And he had a daughter who was said to
be the prettiest young woman either in Europe or in America at the
present time.
Isabel Boncassen was certainly a very pretty girl. I wish that
my reader would believe my simple assurance. But no such simple
assurance was ever believed, and I doubt even whether any description
will procure for me from the reader that amount of faith which I
desire to achieve. But I must make the attempt. General opinion
generally considered Miss Boncassen to be small, but she was in
truth something above the average height of English women. She was
slight, without that look of slimness which is common to girls, and
especially to American girls. That her figure was perfect the reader
must believe on my word, as any detailed description of her arms,
feet, bust, and waist, would be altogether ineffective. Her hair
was dark brown and plentiful; but it added but little to her charms,
which depended on other matters. Perhaps what struck the beholder
first was the excessive brilliancy of her complexion. No pink was
ever pinker, no alabaster whiteness was ever more like alabaster; but
under and around and through it all there was a constantly changing
hue which gave a vitality to her countenance which no fixed colours
can produce. Her eyes, too, were full of life and brilliancy, and
even when she was silent her mouth would speak. Nor was there a fault
within the oval of her face upon which the hypercritics of mature age
could set a finger. Her teeth were excellent both in form and colour,
but were seen but seldom. Who does not know that look of ubiquitous
ivory produced by teeth which are too perfect in a face which is
otherwise poor? Her nose at the base spread a little,--so that it was
not purely Grecian. But who has ever seen a nose to be eloquent and
expressive, which did not so spread? It was, I think, the vitality
of her countenance,--the way in which she could speak with every
feature, the command which she had of pathos, of humour, of sympathy,
of satire, the assurance which she gave by every glance of her eye,
every elevation of her brow, every curl of her lip, that she was
alive to all that was going on,--it was all this rather than those
feminine charms which can be catalogued and labelled that made all
acknowledge that she was beautiful.
"Lord Silverbridge," said Mr. Boncassen, speaking a little through
his nose, "I am proud to make your acquaintance, sir. Your father is
a man for whom we in our country have a great respect. I think, sir,
you must be proud of such a father."
"Oh yes,--no doubt," said Silverbridge awkwardly. Then Mr. Boncassen
continued his discourse with the gentlemen around him. Upon this our
friend turned to the young lady. "Have you been long in England, Miss
Boncassen?"
"Long enough to have heard about you and your father," she said,
speaking with no slightest twang.
"I hope you have not heard any evil of me."
"Well!"
"I'm sure you can't have heard much good."
"I know you didn't win the Derby."
"You've been long enough to hear that?"
"Do you suppose we don't interest ourselves about the Derby in New
York? Why, when we arrived at Queenstown I was leaning over the
taffrail so that I might ask the first man on board the tender
whether the Prime Minister had won."
"And he said he hadn't."
"I can't conceive why you of all men should call your horse by such a
name. If my father had been President of the United States, I don't
think I'd call a horse President."
"I didn't name the horse."
"I'd have changed it. But is it not very impudent in me to be finding
fault with you the first time I have ever seen you? Shall you have a
horse at Ascot?"
"There will be something going, I suppose. Nothing that I care
about." Lord Silverbridge had made up his mind that he would go to no
races with Tifto before the Leger. The Leger would be an affair of
such moment as to demand his presence. After that should come the
complete rupture between him and Tifto.
Then there was a movement among the elders, and Lord Silverbridge
soon found himself walking alone with Miss Boncassen. It seemed to
her to be quite natural to do so, and there certainly was no reason
why he should decline anything so pleasant. It was thus that he had
intended to walk with Mabel Grex;--only as yet he had not found her.
"Oh yes," said Miss Boncassen, when they had been together about
twenty minutes; "we shall be here all the summer, and all the fall,
and all the winter. Indeed father means to read every book in the
British Museum before he goes back."
"He'll have something to do."
"He reads by steam, and he has two or three young men with him to
take it all down and make other books out of it;--just as you'll see
a lady take a lace shawl and turn it all about till she has trimmed
a petticoat with it. It is the same lace all through,--and so I tell
father it's the same knowledge."
"But he puts it where more people will find it."
"The lady endeavours to do the same with the lace. That depends on
whether people look up or down. Father however is a very learned man.
You mustn't suppose that I am laughing at him. He is going to write a
very learned book. Only everybody will be dead before it can be half
finished." They still went on together, and then he gave her his arm
and took her into the place where the strawberries and cream were
prepared. As he was going in he saw Mabel Grex walking with Tregear,
and she bowed to him pleasantly and playfully. "Is that lady a great
friend of yours?" asked Miss Boncassen.
"A very great friend indeed."
"She is very beautiful."
"And clever as well,--and good as gold."
"Dear me! Do tell me who it is that owns all these qualities."
"Lady Mabel Grex. She is daughter of Lord Grex. That man with her
is my particular friend. His name is Frank Tregear, and they are
cousins."
"I am so glad they are cousins."
"Why glad?"
"Because his being with her won't make you unhappy."
"Supposing I was in love with her,--which I am not,--do you suppose
it would make me jealous to see her with another man?"
"In our country it would not. A young lady may walk about with a
young gentleman just as she might with another young lady; but I
thought it was different here. Do you know, judging by English ways,
I believe I am behaving very improperly in walking about with you so
long. Ought I not to tell you to go away?"
"Pray do not."
"As I am going to stay here so long I wish to behave well to English
eyes."
"People know who you are, and discount all that."
"If the difference be very marked they do. For instance, I needn't
wear a hideous long bit of cloth over my face in Constantinople
because I am a woman. But when the discrepancies are small, then they
have to be attended to. So I shan't walk about with you any more."
"Oh yes, you will," said Silverbridge, who began to think that he
liked walking about with Miss Boncassen.
"Certainly not. There is Mr. Sprottle. He is father's secretary. He
will take me back."
"Cannot I take you back as well as Mr. Sprottle?"
"Indeed no;--I am not going to monopolise such a man as you. Do you
think that I don't understand that everybody will be making remarks
upon the American girl who won't leave the son of the Duke of Omnium
alone? There is your particular friend Lady Mabel, and here is my
particular friend Mr. Sprottle."
"May I come and call?"
"Certainly. Father will only be too proud,--and I shall be prouder.
Mother will be the proudest of all. Mother very seldom goes out. Till
we get a house we are at The Langham. Thank you, Mr. Sprottle. I
think we'll go and find father."
Lord Silverbridge found himself close to Lady Mabel and Tregear, and
also to Miss Cassewary, who had now joined Lady Mabel. He had been
much struck with the American beauty, but was not on that account
the less anxious to carry out his great plan. It was essentially
necessary that he should do so at once, because the matter had been
settled between him and his father. He was anxious to assure her that
if she would consent, then the Duke would be ready to pour out all
kinds of paternal blessings on their heads. "Come and take a turn
among the haycocks," he said.
"Frank declares," said Lady Mabel, "that the hay is hired for the
occasion. I wonder whether that is true."
"Anybody can see," said Tregear, "that it has not been cut off the
grass it stands upon."
"If I could find Mrs. Montacute Jones I'd ask her where she got it,"
said Lady Mabel.
"Are you coming?" asked Silverbridge impatiently.
"I don't think I am. I have been walking round the haycocks till I am
tired of them."
"Anywhere else then?"
"There isn't anywhere else. What have you done with your American
beauty? The truth is, Lord Silverbridge, you ask me for my company
when she won't give you hers any longer. Doesn't it look like it,
Miss Cassewary?"
"I don't think Lord Silverbridge is the man to forget an old friend
for a new one."
"Not though the new friend be as lovely as Miss Boncassen?"
"I don't know that I ever saw a prettier girl," said Tregear.
"I quite admit it," said Lady Mabel. "But that is no salve for my
injured feelings I have heard so much about Miss Boncassen's beauty
for the last week, that I mean to get up a company of British
females, limited, for the express purpose of putting her down. Who is
Miss Boncassen that we are all to be put on one side for her?"
Of course he knew that she was joking, but he hardly knew how to take
her joke. There is a manner of joking which carries with it much
serious intention. He did feel that Lady Mabel was not gracious to
him because he had spent half an hour with this new beauty, and he
was half inclined to be angry with her. Was it fitting that she
should be cross with him, seeing that he was resolved to throw at
her feet all the good things that he had in the world? "Bother Miss
Boncassen," he said; "you might as well come and take a turn with a
fellow."
"Come along, Miss Cassewary," said she. "We will go round the
haycocks yet once again." So they turned and the two ladies
accompanied Lord Silverbridge.
But this was not what he wanted. He could not say what he had to say
in the presence of Miss Cassewary,--nor could he ask her to take
herself off in another direction. Nor could he take himself off. Now
that he had joined himself to these two ladies he must make with them
the tour of the gardens. All this made him cross. "These kind of
things are a great bore," he said.
"I dare say you would rather be in the House of Commons;--or, better
still, at the Beargarden."
"You mean to be ill-natured when you say that, Lady Mab."
"You ask us to come and walk with you, and then you tell us that we
are bores!"
"I did nothing of the kind."
"I should have thought that you would be particularly pleased with
yourself for coming here to-day, seeing that you have made Miss
Boncassen's acquaintance. To be allowed to walk half an hour alone
with the acknowledged beauty of the two hemispheres ought to be
enough even for Lord Silverbridge."
"That is nonsense, Lady Mab."
"Nothing gives so much zest to admiration as novelty. A republican
charmer must be exciting after all the blasées habituées of the
London drawing-rooms."
"How can you talk such nonsense, Mabel?" said Miss Cassewary.
"But it is so. I feel that people must be sick of seeing me. I know I
am very often sick of seeing them. Here is something fresh,--and not
only unlike, but so much more lovely. I quite acknowledge that I may
be jealous, but no one can say that I am spiteful. I wish that some
republican Adonis or Apollo would crop up,--so that we might have our
turn. But I don't think the republican gentlemen are equal to the
republican ladies. Do you, Lord Silverbridge?"
"I haven't thought about it."
"Mr. Sprottle for instance."
"I have not the pleasure of knowing Mr. Sprottle."
"Now we've been round the haycocks, and really, Lord Silverbridge, I
don't think we have gained much by it. Those forced marches never do
any good." And so they parted.
He was thinking with a bitter spirit of the ill-result of his
morning's work when he again found himself close to Miss Boncassen
in the crowd of departing people on the terrace. "Mind you keep
your word," she said. And then she turned to her father. "Lord
Silverbridge has promised to call."
"Mrs. Boncassen will be delighted to make his acquaintance."
He got into his cab and was driven off towards Richmond. As he went
he began to think of the two young women with whom he had passed
his morning. Mabel had certainly behaved badly to him. Even if
she suspected nothing of his object, did she not owe it to their
friendship to be more courteous to him than she had been? And if she
suspected that object, should she not at any rate have given him the
opportunity?
Or could it be that she was really jealous of the American girl?
No;--that idea he rejected instantly. It was not compatible with the
innate modesty of his disposition. But no doubt the American girl was
very lovely. Merely as a thing to be looked at she was superior to
Mabel. He did feel that as to mere personal beauty she was in truth
superior to anything he had ever seen before. And she was clever
too;--and good-humoured;--whereas Mabel had been both ill-natured and
unpleasant.