LADY SELINA’S GOSSIPING LETTER.
Early in the following week was the day fixed for the masquerade ball,
and a number of guests arrived at an early hour. The Count had gone out
early in the morning, and the Countess, not being very well, and wishing
to repose herself for the evening’s gaiety, sent down word to beg they
would excuse her from appearing till the dinner hour.
So the guests strolled into the gardens and amused themselves very
well, but some of the ladies held rather aloof from Lady Selina
Bugginfield and Mrs. Dashworth, who, as they had been visitors for some
time at the Castle, thought it right to patronize the new-comers. But
finding it would not do, they went up and sulked in their own rooms, and
wrote bitterly gossiping letters to their dear friends.
“This won’t last long,” wrote Lady Selina to her sister that afternoon.
“How the husband can be so blind, we none of us can imagine. They go and
smoke in an old orangery every day; they have been seen there, and even
heard, by some of the servants; in fact, it is well known, and I shan’t
be surprised if they elope soon.
“Her adorer is a spendthrift Neapolitan, handsome, certainly, but”--but
he remained insensible to my charms, was the parenthesis of her mental
bitterness. “Her character is quite gone, if she ever had any, so she
will not be much worse after she has left her husband, and with such a
spendthrift it scarcely seems worth while; but she has her own fortune,
and that _I_ think is the great attraction for him--in fact, I’m sure of
it. Poor thing! she will find it out some day.
“The Duke and Duchess of Dromoland, and Lady E. G----, and the great
Mrs. de V---- are downstairs. They were obliged to come early to get
their hair dressed by Isidore, who came from Paris to dress Cunigunda’s.
“The Duke is very pleasant and nice, and so is Lord D----, but the
Duchess and Mrs. de V---- (who I am sure has no character to lose) are
disposed to be impertinent to me, and so I came upstairs and took no
further notice of them. How insufferably vulgar these great people often
are!
“My dress is to be that of a pilgrim from Capo Bosso. I saw one the last
time I was in Rome in the Holy Week, and Princess Doria washed her feet.
It is the prettiest dress in the world: a blue jacket and cap and very
short petticoats, and, as Alfred says, will suit my well-turned ankles
and perfect legs. We shall wear masques and dominoes till supper-time,
after which there will be a grand polonaise all over the curious old
house, and then those who like will remove their masques.
“It will certainly be great fun, and the restored old chapel or
banqueting-hall is splendid, where the dancing will be. Such a
floor!--all inlaid with flowers and fruit in marqueterie work, like the
beautiful old cabinet at D----. But I must dress now, and will finish
this to-morrow, and give you some account of the fête, if I am not too
tired.
“The party is to break up the following day, which I shall be sorry for.
They have an excellent cook, and a very pleasant set of men. There is no
drawback but the ghost, of which I told you in my last letter, which
frightened all the servants, and then they gave warning. I heard it,
too, quite plain, walking round my bed. I can’t bear to think of it; it
makes me shudder now--so like the tread of a skeleton!”