"Some take him for a tool
That knaves do work with, called a fool;
Fools are known by looking wise,
As men find woodcocks by their eyes."--HUDIBRAS.
The solitude of Castle Carberry was interrupted in less than a fortnight
by visits and invitations from the neighboring families. The first they
accepted was to dinner at Mr. Kilcorban's. He was a man of large
fortune, which, in the opinion of many, compensated for the want of
polished manners, and a cultivated mind; but others, of a more liberal
way of thinking, could not possibly excuse those deficiencies, which
were more apparent from his pretending to every excellence; and more
intolerable from his deeming himself authorized, by his wealth and
consequence, to say and do almost whatever he pleased. His lady was,
like himself, a compound of ignorance, pride, and vanity. Their
offspring was numerous, and the three who were sufficiently old to make
their appearance, were considered, by their parents and themselves, as
the very models of elegance and perfection. The young heir had been sent
to the University; but, permitted to be his own master, he had profited
little by his residence there. Enough, however, perhaps he thought for a
man of fortune, who wanted not professional knowledge. His face was
coarse, his person inelegant, and his taste in adorning himself
preposterously ridiculous. Fashion, Hoyle, and the looking-glass, were
his chief studies, and, by his family and self, he was considered quite
the thing.
The young ladies were supposed to be very accomplished, because they had
instructors in almost every branch of education; but, in reality, they
understood little more than the names of what they were attempted to be
taught. Nature had not been lavish of her gifts. Of this, however, they
were conscious, and patched, powdered, and painted in the very extremity
of the mode. Their mornings were generally spent in rolling about in a
coach and six with their mamma, collecting news and paying visits; their
evenings were constantly devoted to company, without which they declared
they could not exist. They sometimes affected languor and sentiment,
talked of friendship, and professed for numbers, the most sincere; yet,
to the very girls they pretended to regard, delighted in exhibiting
their finery, if certain they could not purchase the same, and would
feel mortified by seeing it.
Mr. Kilcorban had indulged his family in a trip to Bath one autumn, and,
in so doing, had afforded a never-failing subject for conversation; upon
every occasion this delightful excursion was mentioned--the novelties
they saw, the admiration they excited, the elegant intimacies they
formed, the amazing sum they expended, were all described and
exaggerated.
Lady Greystock, an ancient widow, was at present on a visit to them. She
had known Fitzalan in his youth, and now, with pleasure, renewed her
intimacy with him; and the account she gave of his family and
connections, prepossessed the neighborhood in his favor. She was a
shrewd, sensible woman; the dignity of her person commanded respect, but
the sarcastic expression of her countenance prevented her conciliating
esteem.
An old chariot belonging to the Earl of Cherbury, which had been for
years unemployed in the coach-house, was brought forth, for the purpose
of conveying Fitzalan and his daughter on their visits. After a good
deal of rubbing and washing, it was found tolerably decent, and they
proceeded in it to Mr. Kilcorban's, which was about two miles from
Castle Carberry. A numerous party was already assembled. While Amanda
was paying her compliments to Mrs. Kilcorban and Lady Greystock, a
general whisper relative to her took place among the younger part of the
company, who had formed themselves into a group quite distant from the
rest. One gentleman swore, "she was a devilish fine girl!" He was
seconded in the remark by another, who extolled her complexion. "You are
a simpleton," cried a young lady, who was reckoned a great wit; "I would
engage for half a crown to get as fine a color in Dublin." Her
companions laughed, and declared she only spoke truth in saying so. Mr.
Bryan Kilcorban, who leaned on her chair, said, "A bill should be
brought into the house to tax such complexions; for kill me," continued
he, "the ladies are so irresistible from nature, it is quite
unconscionable to call in art as an auxiliary." He then stalked over to
Amanda, who sat by Lady Greystock; lolling over her chair, he declared,
"he thought the tedious hours would never elapse till again blessed with
her presence." "Of her," he said, "it was sufficient to have but one
glimpse to make him pant for the second." A summons to dinner relieved
her from this nonsense. Luxury and ostentation were conspicuous in the
fare and decorations of the table, and Amanda never felt any hours so
tedious as those she passed at it. When the ladies returned to the
drawing-room, the Miss Kilcorbans, and their companions, began to
examine and admire her dress. "What a pretty pattern this gown is worked
in!" said one. "What a sweet, becoming cap this is," cried a second.
"Well, certainly the English milliners have a great deal of taste, my
dear," said Miss Kilcorban, whispering to Amanda. "I have a monstrous
favor to ask of you," drawing her at the same instant to the window. "I
am sure," said Amanda, "any in my power to grant I shall with pleasure."
"Oh! really, then, it is in your power. It is only to refuse the pattern
of your cap to any girls who may ask you for it, and to give it me and
my sister. You cannot conceive how we dote on being the first in the
fashion, one is so stared at, and so envied. I detest anything when it
becomes common. You cannot think how we are teased every summer, when we
return from Dublin, for fashions; but we always make it a point to
refuse. I must tell you a delightful trick I played a friend of mine.
She received a large present of the most beautiful muslins from India,
which she laid by till I returned from town, supposing I would let her
see my things, as I always told her I was extremely fond of her. Well, I
lent her a gown, which was quite old-fashioned, but assured her it was
the very newest mode. She accordingly had her beautiful muslins cut in
imitation of it, and so spoiled them from making any other habit. Well,
we met at an assize ball, where all the elegant people of the county
were assembled, and, I declare, I never saw so ridiculous a figure as
she made. When she found herself unlike every one in the room, I really
thought she would have fainted, and that my poor sister and I should
have expired with laughing. Poor thing! the tears absolutely trickled
down her cheeks. Do not you think it was a charming trick?" "Very much
so," said Amanda; "I think it gave a striking specimen of your humor."
"Well, my dear," exclaimed Miss Kilcorban, without minding the marked
emphasis of Amanda's last words, "if you allow us, my sister and I will
call on you to-morrow to look over your things." "It would be giving
yourselves a great deal of unnecessary trouble," replied Amanda, coolly,
who did not by any means relish this forward proposal; "my things can
boast of little but simplicity, and I am always my own milliner."
"Really! well, I protest you have a great deal of taste; my maid, who is
very handy, would, I think, be able to make up things in pretty much the
same style, if you were obliging enough to give her patterns. If you do,
perhaps you will add to the favor, and allow us to say they are the
newest Bath fashions. Was you ever at Bath?" "No." "Oh! then I assure
you, you have a monstrous pleasure to come; it is the sweetest place on
earth--quite a paradise! I declare I thought I should have died with
grief at leaving it. Papa has been inexorable ever since to our
entreaties for a second trip. He says the first cost too much money.
Indeed, it was an enormous sum; only think how much." "I am the worst
person in the world," said Amanda, "for guessing," sick of her
impertinent volubility, and moving from the window. The evening was
fine, and the grounds about the house beautiful; she therefore proposed
a walk. At this proposal, the young ladies, who had hitherto been in
deep confab, looked at each other, and remained silent for some minutes.
Miss Kilcorban, then, who had no notion of gratifying the inclination of
her guest, by the sacrifice of her own, said, "it blew a little, and
that her hair would be ruined, and the Marchelle powder blown from it by
such a walk." Another young lady, looking down at her white satin
slippers, vowed "she would not venture into the grass for worlds." A
third declared, "when once dressed, she could not bear to be tumbled."
Amanda had too much politeness to repeat her wish, and it was,
therefore, unanimously agreed upon among the fair coterie, that they
should continue in the drawing-room, to be in statu quo for the
reappearance of the beaux.
Lady Greystock now beckoned to our heroine to take a seat by her. She
gladly obeyed. "Well, my dear," said her ladyship, "I hope you have had
enough of these country misses--those would-be misses of the ton."
Amanda smiled assentingly. "Heaven defend me, or any one I like,"
continued her ladyship, "from their clack! The confusion of Babel was, I
really believe, inferior to that their tongues create, yet some people
have the absurdity to reckon these girls accomplished. Poor Mrs.
Kilcorban torments one with the perfections of her daughters; against
they are disposed of, which she imagines will be very soon, she has a
new brood of graces training up to bring out. Mercy on me! what a set of
hoydens. I would lay my life, at this very instant they are galloping
about the nursery like a parcel of wild colts, tearing or tormenting an
unfortunate French governess, who was formerly fille de chambre to a
woman of quality, and does not understand even the grammatical part of
her own language." "Mrs. Kilcorban's opinion of her children," said
Amanda, "is natural, considering the partiality of a parent." "Yes; but
not more bearable on that account," replied her ladyship; "and I should
endeavor to open her eyes to her folly, if I thought her acquaintances
would forgive my depriving them of such a fund of amusement."
Mr. Brian Kilcorban, with some gentlemen, now entered the room, and
advanced to Amanda. "So," said he, "you have got by the dowager; hang
me, but I would let my beard grow, if all women resembled her in their
dispositions." "By the way of appearing sagacious, I suppose," said her
ladyship, who was extremely quick, and had caught the last words. "Alas!
poor youth, no embellishments on the exterior would ever be able to make
us believe the tenement within well furnished." Her ladyship was now
summoned to a whist-table, and Miss Kilcorban immediately took her
vacant seat. "My dear creature!" said she, "are you not bored to death?
Lady Greystock is a queer piece, I can assure you. I suppose she was
asking some favor from you, such as to work her an apron or
handkerchief. She is noted everywhere for requesting such little jobs,
as she calls them; indeed, we should never put up with the trouble she
gives us, but that she is vastly rich, and papa's relation, and has no
one so nearly connected with her as we are." "All very good reasons for
your complaisance," replied Amanda; "but should you not be more careful
in concealing them?" "Oh, Lord! no; every one knows them as well as we
do ourselves. She was here last summer, and took a fancy to the pattern
of an apron of mine; and made me the reasonable request of working one
like it for her. All this she pretended was to prevent my being idle.
Well, I said I would, and wrote up to the Moravian House in Dublin,
where I had got mine, for one exactly like it. In due time I received
and presented it to the dowager, certain that, in return I should
receive a few of her diamond pins, which she had often heard me admire.
They are the prettiest I ever saw, and quite unfit for her, but she had
the cruelty to disappoint me." "Upon my faith!" cried Mrs. Kilcorban,
who had taken a chair at the other side of Amanda, and listened with
evident pleasure to her daughter's voluble speech, "Lady Greystock is an
odd being; I never met with any one like her in all my travels through
England, Ireland, and Wales; but she is a great orator, and possesses
the gift of the gab in a wonderful degree."
"Ah, indeed," thought Amanda; "and you and your fair daughters resemble
her in that respect." After tea, she was prevailed on to sit down to
commerce; but she soon grew as tired of the party as of the game, and
lost on purpose to be released. She had hoped for a little more chat
with Lady Greystock; but her ladyship was passionately fond of cards,
and at all times would have preferred the pleasures of a card-table to
the eloquence of a Cicero. Kilcorban, on finding her disengaged,
tormented her with many absurd compliments. A challenge to a brag-table
at length relieved her from his nonsense, and she loitered about the
card-tables till they broke up for supper.
Amanda always expressed to her father her sentiments of any company she
had been in; and those she now delivered, on quitting the party,
perfectly coincided with his. He laughed at the account which the
Kilcorbans had given of Lady Greystock, to whom he knew they paid the
most extravagant flattery, in hopes of obtaining some of her large
fortune.