Dearest Kitty,--What a dreadful fortnight have we passed through! We
thought that poor dear James must have lost his leg; the inflammation
ran so high, and the pain and the fever were so great, that one night
the Baron Seutin actually brought the horrid instruments with him, and
I believe it was Lord George alone persuaded him to defer the operation.
What a dear, kind, affectionate creature he is! He has scarcely ever
left the house since it happened; and although he sits up all night with
James, he seems never tired nor sleepy, but is so full of life all day
long, playing on the piano, and teaching us the mazurka! I should rather
say teaching me, for Cary, bless the mark, has taken a prudish turn, and
says she has no fancy for being pulled about, even by a lord! I may
as well mention here, that there is nothing less like romping than the
mazurka, when danced properly; and so Lord George as much as told her.
He scarcely touches your waist, Kitty; he only "gives you support," as
he says himself, and he never by any chance squeezes your hand, except
when there 's something droll he wants you to remark.
I must say, Kitty, that in Ireland we conceive the most absurd notions
about the aristocracy. Now, here, we have one of the first, the very
first young nobleman of the day actually domesticated with us. For the
entire fortnight he has never been away, and yet we are as much at home
with him, as easy in his presence, and as unconstrained as if it were
your brother Robert, or anybody else of no position. You can form
no idea how entertaining he is, for, as he says himself, "I 've done
everything," and I 'm certain so he has; such a range of knowledge on
every subject,--such a mass of acquaintances! And then he has been all
over the world in his own yacht. It's like listening to the "Arabian
Nights," to hear him talk about the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn; and
I'm sure I never knew how to relish Byron's poetry till I heard Lord
G.'s description of Patras and Salamis. I must tell you, as a great
secret though, that he came, the other evening, in his cloak to the
drawing-room door, to say that James wanted to see me; and when I went
out, there he was in full Albanian dress, the most splendid thing you
ever beheld,--a dark violet velvet jacket all braided with gold, white
linen jupe, like the Scotch kilt, but immensely full,--he said, two
hundred ells wide,--a fez on his head, embroidered sandals, and such a
scimitar! it was a mass of turquoises and rubies. Oh, Kitty! I have no
words to describe him; for, besides all this, he has such eyes, and the
handsomest beard in the world,--not one of those foppish little tufts
they call imperials, nor that grizzly clothes-brush Young France
affects, but a regular "Titian," full, flowing, and squared beneath.
Now, don't let Peter fancy that he ought to get up a "_moyen âge_ look,"
for, between ourselves, these things, which sit so gracefully on my
Lord, would be downright ridiculous in the dispensary doctor; and while
I 'm on the topic, let me say that nothing is so thoroughly Irish as the
habit of imitating, or rather of mimicking, those of stations above our
own. I 'll never forget Peter's putting the kicking-straps on his mare
just because he saw Sir Joseph Vickare drive with them; the consequence
was that the poor beast, who never kicked before, no sooner felt the
unaccustomed encumbrance than she dashed out, and never stopped till she
smashed the gig to atoms. In the same way, I 'm certain that if he
only saw Lord George's dress, which is a kind of black velvet paletot,
braided, and very loose in the sleeves, he'd just follow it, quite
forgetting how inconvenient it might be in what he calls "the surgery."
At all events, Kitty, do not say that I said so. I'm too conscious how
little power I have to serve him, to wish to hurt his feelings.
You could not believe what interest has been felt about James in the
very highest circles here. We were at last obliged to issue a species of
bulletin every morning, and leave it with the porter at the hotel door.
I own to you I thought it did look a little pretentious at first to read
these documents, with the three signatures at the foot; but Lord George
only laughed at my humility, and said that it was "expected from us."
From all this you may gather that poor James's misfortune has not
been unalloyed with benefit. The sympathy--I had almost said the
friendship--of Lord G. is indeed priceless, and I see, from the names of
the inquiries, that our social position has been materially benefited
by the accident. In the little I have seen of the Continent, one thing
strikes me most forcibly. It is that to have any social eminence or
success you must be notorious. I am free to own that in many instances
this is not obtained without considerable sacrifice, but it would seem
imperative. You may be very rich, or very highly connected, or very
beautiful, or very gifted. You may possess some wonderful talent as a
painter or a musician or as a dramatist. You may be the great talker
of dinner-parties,--the wit who never wanted his repartee. A splendid
rider, particularly if a lady, has always her share of admiration.
But apart from these qualities, Kitty, you have only to reckon on
eccentricities, and, I am almost ashamed to write it, on follies.
Chance--I never could call it good fortune, when I think of poor
James--has achieved for us what, in all likelihood, we never could have
accomplished for ourselves, and by a turn of the wheel we wake and
find ourselves famous. I only wish you could see the list of visitors,
beginning with princes, and descending by a sliding scale to barons and
chevaliers; such flourishing of hats, too, as we receive whenever we
drive out! Papa begins to complain that he might as well leave his at
home, as he is perpetually carrying it about in his hand. But for Lord
George, we should never know who one-half of these fine folk were; but
he is acquainted with them all, and such droll histories-as he has of
them would convulse you with laughter to listen to.
I need not say that so long as poor dear James continues to suffer,
we do not accept of any invitation whatever; we just receive a few
intimates--say fifteen or twenty very dear friends--twice a week.
Then it is merely a little music, tea, and perhaps a polka, always
improvised, you understand, and got up without the slightest
forethought. Lord G. is perfect for that kind of thing, and whatever
he does seems to spring so naturally from the impulse of the moment.
Yesterday, however, Just as we were dressing for dinner, papa alone was
in the drawing-room, the servant announced Monsieur le Général Comte de
Vanderdelft, aide-de-camp to the King, and immediately there entered a
very tall and splendidly dressed man, with every order you can think of
on his breast. He saluted pa most courteously, who bowed equally low
in return, and then began something which pa thought was a kind of set
speech, for he spoke so fluently and so long, and with such evident
possession of his subject, that papa felt it must have been all got up
beforehand.
At last he paused, and poor papa, whose French never advanced beyond the
second page of Cobbett's Grammar, uttered his usual "Non comprong," with
a gesture happily more explanatory than the words. The General, deeming,
possibly, that he was called upon for a recapitulation of his discourse,
began it all over again, and was drawing towards the conclusion when
mamma entered. He at once addressed himself to her, but she hastily rang
the bell, and sent for _me_. I, of course, did not lose a moment, but,
arranging my hair in plain bands, came down at once. When I came into
the drawing-room, I saw there was some mystification, for papa was
sitting with his spectacles on, busily hunting out something in the
little Dialogue Book of five languages, and mamma was seated directly
in front of the General, apparently listening to him with the utmost
attention, but as I well knew, from her contracted eyebrows and
pursed-up mouth, only endeavoring to read his sentiments from the
expression of his features. He turned at once towards me as I saluted
him, showing how unmistakably he rejoiced at the sound of his own
language. "I come, Mademoiselle," said he, "on the part of the
King"--and he paused and bowed at the word as solemnly as if he were in
a church. "His Majesty having obtained from the English Legation here
the names of the most distinguished visitors of your countrymen, has
graciously commanded me to wait upon the Honorable Monsieur--" Here he
paused again, and, taking out a slip of paper from his pocket, read the
name--"Dodd. I am right, am I not, Mademoiselle Dodd?" At the mention
of his name, papa bowed, and placed his hand on his waistcoat as if
to confirm his identity; while mamma smiled a bland assent to the
partnership. "To wait upon Monsieur Dodd," resumed the General, "and
invite him and Madame Dodd to be present at the grand ceremony of the
opening of the railroad to Mons." I could scarcely believe my ears,
Kitty, as I listened. The inauguration ceremony has been the stock
theme of the newspapers for the last month. Archbishops and
bishops--cardinals, for aught I know--have been expected, regardless of
expense, to bless everything and everybody, from the sovereign down to
the stokers. The programme included a High Mass, military bands, the
presence of the whole Court, and a grand _déjeuner_. To have been deemed
worthy of an invitation to such a festival was a very legitimate reason
for pride. "I have not his Majesty's commands, Mademoiselle," said the
General, "to include you in the invitation; but as the King is always
pleased to see his Court distinguished by beauty, I may safely
promise that you will receive a card within the course of this day or
to-morrow." I suppose I must have looked very grateful, for the
General dropped his eyes, placed his band on his heart, and said, "Oh,
Mademoiselle!" in a tone of voice the most touching you can conceive. I
believe, from watching my emotion, and the General's acknowledgment of
it, mamma had arrived at the conclusion that the General had come
to propose for me. Indeed, I am convinced, Kitty, that such was the
impression on her mind, for she whispered in my ear, "Tell him, Mary
Anne, that he must speak to papa first." This suggestion at
once recalled me to myself, and I explained what he had come
for,--apologizing, of course, to the General for having to speak in a
foreign language before him. I am certain mamma's satisfaction at the
royal invitation totally obliterated any disappointment she might have
felt from baffled expectations, and she courtesied and smiled, and papa
bowed and simpered so much, that I felt quite relieved when the General
withdrew,--having previously kissed ma's hand and mine, with an air of
respectful homage only acquired in Courts.
Perhaps this scene did not occupy more space than I have taken to
describe it, and yet, Kitty, it seems to me as though we had been
inhaling the atmosphere that surrounds royalty for a length of time!
From my revery on this theme I was aroused by a lively controversy
between papa and mamma.
"Egad!" says papa, "Pummistone's blunder has done us good service. They
've surely taken us for something very distinguished. Look out, Mary
Anne, and see if there 's any Dodds in the peerage."
"Fudge!" cried mamma; "there's no blunder whatever in the case! We
are beginning to be known, that's all; nor is there anything very
astonishing in the fact, seeing that King Leopold is the uncle to our
own Queen. I should like to know what is there more natural than that we
should receive attention from his Court?"
"Maybe it's James's accident," muttered papa.
"It's no such thing, I'm certain," replied mamma, angrily, "and it's
downright meanness to impute to a mere casualty what is the legitimate
consequence of our position."
Now, Kitty, whenever mamma uses the word "position," she has generally
come to the end of her ammunition, which is of the less consequence
that she usually contrives with this last shot to explode the enemy's
magazine, and blow him clean out of the water! Papa knows this so well,
that the moment he hears it, he takes to the long boat, or, to drop
the use of metaphor, he seizes his hat and decamps; which he did on the
present occasion, leaving ma and myself in the field.
"A Dodd indeed, in the peerage!" said she, contemptuously; "I 'd like
to know where you 'd find it! If it was a M'Carthy, there would be some
difference; M'Carthy More slew Shawn Bhuy na Tiernian in the year ten
thousand and six, and was hanged for it at his own gate, in a rope of
silk of the family colors, green and white; and I 'd like to know where
were the Dodds then? But it's the way with your father always, Mary
Anne; he quite forgets the family he married into."
Though this was somewhat of unjust reproach, Kitty, I did not reply to
it, but turned ma's attention to the King's gracious message, and the
approaching _dejeuner_. We agreed that as Cary would n't and indeed
could n't go, that ma and I should dress precisely alike, with our hair
in bands in front, with two long curls behind the ears, white tarletan
dresses, three jupes, looped up with marigolds; the only distinction
being that ma should wear her carbuncles, and I nothing but moss-roses.
It sounds very simple costume, Kitty, but Mademoiselle Adèle has such
taste we felt we might rely upon its not being too plain. Papa, of
course, would wear his yeomanry uniform, which is really very neat, the
only ungraceful part being the white shorts and black gaiters to the
knee; and these he insists on adhering to, as well as the helmet, which
looks exactly like a gigantic caterpillar crawling over a coal-box!
However, it's military; and abroad, my dearest Kitty, if not a soldier,
you are nothing. The English are so well aware of this that not one of
them would venture to present himself at a foreign court in that absurd
travesty of footmen called the "corbeau" coat. Even the lawyers
and doctors, the newspaper editors, the railroad people, the civil
engineers, and the solicitors, all come out as Yorkshire Hussars,
Gloucestershire Fencibles, Hants Rifles, or Royal Archers; these last,
very picturesque, with kilt, filibeg, and dirk, much handsomer than any
other Highland regiment! We also discussed a little plot about making pa
wear a coronation-medal, which would pass admirably as an "order," and
procure him great respect and deference amongst the foreigners; but
this, I may as well mention here, he most obstinately rejected, and
swore at last that if we persisted, he 'd have his commission as a
justice of the peace fixed on a pole, and carry it like a banner before
him. Of course, in presence of such a threat, we gave up our project.
You may smile, Kitty, at my recording such trivial circumstances; but of
such is life. We are ourselves but atoms, dearest, and all around us are
no more! As eagerly as _we_ strive upwards, so determinedly does
_he_ drag us down to earth again, and ma's noblest ambitions are ever
threatened by papa's inglorious tastes and inclinations.
I 'm so full of this delightful _fête_ my dear Kitty, that I can think
of nothing else; nor, indeed, are my thoughts very collected even on
that,--for that wild creature, Lord George, is thumping the piano,
imitating all the opera people, and occasionally waltzing about the room
in a manner that would distract any human head to listen to! He has just
been tormenting me to tell him what I 'm saying to you, and bade me tell
you that he 's dying to make your acquaintance; so you see, dearest,
that he has heard of those deep-blue eyes and long-fringed lids that
have done such marvels in our western latitudes! It is really no use
trying to continue. He is performing what he calls a "Grand March,
with a full orchestral accompaniment," and there is a crowd actually
assembling in front of the house. I had something to say, however, if I
could only remember it.
I have just recalled what I wanted to mention. It is this: P. B. is most
unjust, most ungenerous. Living, as he does, remote from the world and
its exciting cares, he can form no conception of what is required from
those who mingle in its pleasures, and, alas! partake of its trials! To
censure me for the sacrifices I am making to that world, Kitty, is then
great injustice. I feel that he knows nothing of these things! What knew
I myself of them till within a few weeks back! Tell him so, dearest.
Tell him, besides, that I am ever the same, save in that expansion of
the soul which comes of enlarged views of life,--more exalted notions
and more ennobling emotions! When I think of what I was, Kitty, and
of what I am, I may indeed shudder at the perils of the present, but I
blush deeply for the past! Of course you will not permit him to think
of coming abroad; "settling as a doctor," as he calls it, "on the
Continent," is too horrid to be thought of! Are you aware, Kitty, what
place the lawyer and the physician occupy socially here? Something
lower than the courier, and a little higher than the cook! Two or three,
perhaps, in every capital city are received in society, wear decent
clothes, and wash their hands occasionally, but there it ends! and
even they are only admitted on sufferance, and as it were by a tacit
acknowledgment of the uncertainty of human life, and that it is good to
have a "learned leech" within call. Shall I avow it, Kitty, I think they
are right! It is, unquestionably, a gross anomaly to see everlastingly
around one in the gay world those terrible remembrancers of dark hours
and gloomy scenes. We do not scatter wills and deeds and settlements
amongst the prints and drawings and light literature of our drawing-room
tables, nor do we permit physic-bottles to elbow the odors and essences
which deck our "consoles" and chimney-pieces; and why should we admit
the incarnation of these odious objects to mar the picturesque elegance
of our _salons?_ No, Kitty; they may figure upon a darker canvas,
but they would ill become the gorgeous light that illumines the grand
"tableau" of high life! Peter, too, would be quite unsuited to the
habits of the Continent Wrapped up as he is in his profession, he
never could attain to that charming negligence of manner, that graceful
trifling, that most insinuating languor, which distinguish the well-bred
abroad. If they fail to captivate, Kitty, they at least never wound your
susceptibilities, nor hurt your prejudices. The delightful maxim that
pronounces "Tous les goûts sont respectables," is the keystone of this
system. No, no, Peter must not come abroad!
Let me not forget to congratulate you on Robert's success. What is it
he has gained? for I could not explain to Lord George whether he is a
"double first" or a something else.
You are quite mistaken, my dear friend, about lace. It is fully as
dear here as with us. At the same time I must say we never do see real
"Brussels point" in Ireland; for even the Castle folk are satisfied with
showing you nothing but their cast-off London finery; and as to lace,
it is all what they call here "application,"--that is, the flowers and
tracery are worked in upon common net, and are not part of the fabric,
as in real "point de Bruxelles." After all, even this is as superior
to "Limerick lace" as a foreign ambassador is, in manner, to a Dublin
alderman.
I should like to keep this over till the _dejeuner_ at Mons; but as it
goes by "the Messenger,"--Lord Gledworth having given pa the privilege
of the "bag,"--I cannot longer defer writing myself my dearest Kitty's
most attached friend,
Mary Anne Dodd.