POLICY AND POLITENESS.
“I heard there was glorious skating on the Serpentine yesterday!” cried
Vincent. “I’ll be off there this fine morning, and see the fun!”
“I’ll go with you,” said Louisa; “I’m sick to death of both books and
work. Belgrave Square is as dull as a city of the dead; I want to go
where a little life is stirring!”
“Pray, on no account venture on the ice,” cried Clemence; “the weather
is so much milder to-day, that I feel sure that there must be a thaw.”
“I suppose,” said Louisa very pertly, “that I may use my own judgment in
the matter. I happen to possess a little common sense, and have not the
slightest wish to be drowned.”
“I am sure that you are greatly indebted to Mrs. Effingham for her
tender anxiety on your account,” said Lady Selina very ironically,
glancing up from the last number of _Punch_.
“That old mischief-maker!” thought Captain Thistlewood; “we should all
get on well enough but for her! What a blessing it would be to Clemence
if the proud dame could once be got out of the house.—Well, young folk!”
he said aloud, “if you want some one to see that you don’t make ducks
and drakes of yourselves, I’m your man; I’ll go to the park with you
myself!”
“We don’t want your company,” said the schoolboy rudely; “I can take
care of my sister.”
“A footman will follow us,” added Louisa superciliously; “I may meet
friends in the park, and it would cause too great a sensation amongst
them if I were to be seen escorted by Captain Thistlewood!” and so
saying, with a mock reverence she quitted the room, and was followed by
Vincent whistling.
The old sailor did not appear to understand the implied satire, or to be
aware that an earl’s granddaughter could possibly be ashamed to be seen
with an unfashionable companion. But if his simplicity warded the insult
from himself, it glanced off from him to wound the more sensitive spirit
of his niece.
“You will escort me, dear uncle,” said Clemence; “it will be such a
pleasure to walk with you again!”
“Presently, my dear,” replied the captain, seating himself on the sofa,
of which the greater part was occupied by the stiff silk flounces of
Lady Selina.
“I will put on my bonnet—”
“Do not hurry yourself,” was the sailor’s quiet reply. The truth is,
that he had resolved upon having a _tête-à-tête_ with Clemence’s arch
tormentor, and was revolving in his honest mind how best to make it
clear to her apprehension, without showing discourtesy to a lady, that
as two suns cannot shine in one sphere, no more can two mistresses bear
rule in one dwelling. Captain Thistlewood had sufficient observation to
perceive that Lady Selina’s influence lay at the root of all the
bitterness and unkindness which Clemence was called on to endure, and he
considered that it would be a master-stroke of diplomacy, could he
induce the grand lady voluntarily to resign a position which he could
not think that she had any right to hold in the house of his niece.
Lady Selina was also meditating, though her eyes appeared to be riveted
upon _Punch_. She was pondering how Mrs. Effingham’s new and strange
ally, formidable from the straightforward vehemence of his manner, and
his invulnerability to personal insult, could best be coaxed, since he
could not be chased from the field. These were strange opponents left to
face each other alone,—Simplicity _versus_ Art—the warm-hearted, honest
old sailor, _versus_ the cold, calculating woman of the world!
Lady Selina was the first to commence the conversation. She laid her
paper down upon the cushion beside her, and turning towards her auditor,
observed with an air of affected indifference, as if merely fulfilling
an office of common courtesy to a guest, “You must greatly miss, Captain
Thistlewood, the delightful serenity of the country. I dare say that,
after a life spent in charming seclusion, you find London a sad, noisy,
bustling place.”
“I like it—I like it,” replied the old sailor good-humouredly; “there
was never anything of the hermit about me. I was knocked about the world
for many a long year, and rather like to live in a bustle, and see
plenty of my fellow-creatures about me. No babbling stream pleases my
old eyes so much as the stream of people down Oxford Street.”
Lady Selina was instantly upon another tack. “I perfectly agree with
you,” she said; “and I must own” (here she lowered her voice
confidentially) “that Belgrave Square is a great deal too dull and out
of the way for my taste.”
“Is it?” cried the captain eagerly.
“So far from the best shops, all the exhibitions—from everything, in
short, that gives its charm to the great metropolis.”
“So it is—the dullest spot in all London,” was the hearty rejoinder.
“She’s really preparing for a removal,” thought the exulting captain.
“Now, there are a great many excellent lodgings a great deal nearer to
the centre of the city—reasonable, too,” pursued Lady Selina, imagining
that her fish was approaching the bait, and that, by a little delicate
management, she could land him in some convenient spot well removed from
the Effingham mansion. “I should say, now, that Bloomsbury Square is a
very centrical situation.”
“I’ve no doubt of it—no doubt of it at all!” cried the captain, who had
not the faintest idea of the locality, but caught something rural in the
sound of the name.
“And you see, Captain Thistlewood,” continued Lady Selina, feeling her
line with dexterity and caution,—“you see that there is a freedom to be
enjoyed in a life of independence, which must necessarily be resigned by
any one forming a member of a large establishment. One is not tied down
to hours—one can indulge little fancies and tastes without encroaching
upon the comfort of others.” She paused and glanced at her auditor, to
see whether she might venture on a little stronger pull.
The face of the captain was becoming quite radiant. “You feel and think
exactly as I do, ma’am,” he exclaimed.
“It must be so painful to a refined mind,” pursued the lady, “to
contemplate the possibility of being a little in the way of causing any
inconvenience,—any disturbance of arrangements,—any—”
“Any bickerings in the family, you would say,” eagerly joined in the
captain; “yes, yes, you express my very thoughts. It does not do to have
many wills in one house,—one pulling this way, another that. It is far
better to meet now and then as good friends, than to live under one roof
with perpetual jarring.”
“Then, perhaps, you perceive the advisability of soon looking out—”
“Looking out for lodgings?” interrupted the old gentleman. “I’ll do so
with the greatest pleasure in life! I’m quite at your ladyship’s
service. I’ll hunt half London over, but I will get a place to suit
you!”
“To suit _me_!” exclaimed the astonished lady. As the words were upon
her lips Clemence re-entered the room, and her uncle, too full of his
success to keep it to himself, cried out as he got up to meet her, “Had
we not better put off our walk, Clemence? I’m going off at once to look
for lodgings for Lady Selina in Bloomsbury Square.”
Clemence’s blue eyes opened wide in astonishment; she turned them
inquiringly towards Lady Selina, who rose from her seat with the dignity
of which even surprise and anger could not deprive her. “There are some
people,” she said bitterly, “who mistake impertinence for wit, and pride
themselves on their talent for raising a laugh, even if it be at their
own expense. Captain Thistlewood is an adept in the art; but he may
learn that under my brother-in-law’s roof such jesting may be carried
too far;” and she swept out of the room without vouchsafing a single
word of explanation to the wondering Clemence.
The captain remained perfectly silent until the rustle of the lady’s
silk was heard no more on the staircase, and then burst into a loud fit
of uncontrollable mirth. “A regular Irish blunder!” he exclaimed, as
soon as he could command his voice; “Politeness and Policy bowing each
other so ceremoniously out of the house, that they knocked their heads
together at the door!” and he laughed and chuckled over his own mistake,
and that of the astute Lady Selina, long after he and Clemence had
quitted Belgrave Square on their way to the scene of the skating.
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