Ou peut-on etre mieux qu'au sein de sa famille?
--French Song.
[Where can on be better than in the bosom of
one's family?]
I am an only child. My father was the younger son of one of our oldest
earls; my mother the dowerless daughter of a Scotch peer. Mr. Pelham was
a moderate whig, and gave sumptuous dinners; Lady Frances was a woman of
taste, and particularly fond of diamonds and old china.
Vulgar people know nothing of the necessaries required in good society,
and the credit they give is as short as their pedigree. Six years after
my birth, there was an execution in our house. My mother was just setting
off on a visit to the Duchess of D_____; she declared it was impossible
to go without her diamonds. The chief of the bailiffs declared it was
impossible to trust them out of his sight. The matter was compromised--
the bailiff went with my mother to C___, and was introduced as my tutor.
"A man of singular merit," whispered my mother, "but so shy!"
Fortunately, the bailiff was abashed, and by losing his impudence he kept
the secret. At the end of the week, the diamonds went to the jeweller's,
and Lady Frances wore paste.
I think it was about a month afterwards that a sixteenth cousin left my
mother twenty thousand pounds. "It will just pay off our most importunate
creditors, and equip me for Melton," said Mr. Pelham.
"It will just redeem my diamonds, and refurnish the house," said Lady
Frances.
The latter alternative was chosen. My father went down to run his last
horse at Newmarket, and my mother received nine hundred people in a
Turkish tent. Both were equally fortunate, the Greek and the Turk; my
father's horse lost, in consequence of which he pocketed five thousand
pounds; and my mother looked so charming as a Sultana, that Seymour
Conway fell desperately in love with her.
Mr. Conway had just caused two divorces; and of course, all the women in
London were dying for him--judge then of the pride which Lady Frances
felt at his addresses. The end of the season was unusually dull, and my
mother, after having looked over her list of engagements, and ascertained
that she had none remaining worth staying for, agreed to elope with her
new lover.
The carriage was at the end of the square. My mother, for the first time
in her life, got up at six o'clock. Her foot was on the step, and her
hand next to Mr. Conway's heart, when she remembered that her favourite
china monster and her French dog were left behind. She insisted on
returning--re-entered the house, and was coming down stairs with one
under each arm, when she was met by my father and two servants. My
father's valet had discovered the flight (I forget how), and awakened his
master.
When my father was convinced of his loss, he called for his dressing-
gown--searched the garret and the kitchen--looked in the maid's drawers
and the cellaret--and finally declared he was distracted. I have heard
that the servants were quite melted by his grief, and I do not doubt it
in the least, for he was always celebrated for his skill in private
theatricals. He was just retiring to vent his grief in his dressing-room,
when he met my mother. It must altogether have been an awkward rencontre,
and, indeed, for my father, a remarkably unfortunate occurrence; for
Seymour Conway was immensely rich, and the damages would, no doubt, have
been proportionably high. Had they met each other alone, the affair might
easily have been settled, and Lady Frances gone off in tranquillity;--
those d--d servants are always in the way!
I have, however, often thought that it was better for me that the affair
ended thus,--as I know, from many instances, that it is frequently
exceedingly inconvenient to have one's mother divorced.
I have observed that the distinguishing trait of people accustomed to
good society, is a calm, imperturbable quiet, which pervades all their
actions and habits, from the greatest to the least: they eat in quiet,
move in quiet, live in quiet, and lose their wife, or even their money,
in quiet; while low persons cannot take up either a spoon or an affront
without making such an amazing noise about it. To render this observation
good, and to return to the intended elopement, nothing farther was said
upon that event. My father introduced Conway to Brookes's, and invited
him to dinner twice a week for a whole twelvemonth.
Not long after this occurrence, by the death of my grandfather, my uncle
succeeded to the title and estates of the family. He was, as people
justly observed, rather an odd man: built schools for peasants, forgave
poachers, and diminished his farmers' rents; indeed, on account of these
and similar eccentricities, he was thought a fool by some, and a madman
by others. However, he was not quite destitute of natural feeling; for he
paid my father's debts, and established us in the secure enjoyment of our
former splendour. But this piece of generosity, or justice, was done in
the most unhandsome manner; he obtained a promise from my father to
retire from Brookes's, and relinquish the turf; and he prevailed upon my
mother to take an aversion to diamonds, and an indifference to china
monsters.