The story finished, all the children bounded along the passage,
laughing and leaping as they ran. They found the drawing-room lit,
and a company assembled. It took Clare’s breath away, and at first
she felt excited. Then she espied Mrs. Inchbald at the end of the
long room, and ran towards her.
Mrs. Inchbald saw her approaching, and “La, child, what are you
doing?” she said, “remember your minuet. That is not the way to move
in a drawing-room, my dear.”
But Clare didn’t know a minuet. She lives, it is to be deplored,
in the day of barn-dances, kitchen lancers, and general slouchback
deportment. When little boys walk with their hands in their pockets
(a most ungentlemanly attitude), and little girls stand with their
heads set on their shoulders as if they were Odol bottles, poor
things, and made that way.
“How well Mrs. Jordan stands,” said Mrs. Inchbald; “look at her, my
dear, and learn to throw the small of your back in and to poise your
head.”
Clare was getting good at keeping silence when censured, so she
stood still while Mrs. Inchbald spoke. She was, moreover, immensely
interested in watching the animated groups around her; she saw Bim
as pre-occupied as possible, admiring Lewis, the actor’s, coat.
Christopher was looking at a large russet-coloured leather book
spread open before him, which Clare recognised as the portfolio
belonging to the Misses Frankland; and as she looked round the room,
in they came, those two pretty creatures, Amelia and Marianne. They
sat down, with Christopher between them, and showed him their book.
“Then they also live here? That accounts,” thought Clare, “for that
dog I heard barking and whining just before I woke up this morning.”
But now the room was filling so quickly her eyes kept falling on new
old friends. One group in particular attracted her attention; it was
so very lively and vivid in effect. Yes, it was Barry, and Quin, and
Miss Fenton--Miss Lavinia Fenton of the expressive hands. And towards
this group Lewis, the actor, was striding, and Mrs. Jordan was
among them too.
[Illustration: _Gainsborough._ LEWIS, THE ACTOR.]
Clare was glad to see Kitty Fischer. You would hardly guess how
pretty that grey dress of hers looked among all the brighter colours
there.
Lady Crosbie was talking to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Robert Mayne
gave his arm to Miss Ridge. She looked prettier than ever, chief of
the roguish school, and Robert Mayne looked amused and comfortable.
Her face twinkled when she spoke.
Miss Woffington’s manner was decidedly crisp. Something had gone
wrong, or perhaps her bodice was too tight? It certainly appeared
excruciating. However that may have been she made remarks with edges
to them, and when she had spoken, her lips went together as if they
closed on a little slice of lemon just inside.
Miss Hippesley dropped her blue scarf, and Clare had an opportunity
of showing her good manners, returning it to her before any one had
seen it fall. For a long minute the quiet, clinched eyes rested on
hers, and Clare noticed the pretty hands, as in the picture.
“Where did you get your honeysuckle?” she asked; “I’ve never seen it
sold in London.”
“I got it from the old house in Kensington,” said Miss Hippesley.
“Come along, child, with me. I dislike these crowded evenings, when
every one comes. I should not have accepted had I known it was going
to be so--mixed.”
“O, but,” said Clare, who had heard many fragments of conversation,
“Mrs. Inchbald says that every one comes when they know Doctor
Johnson may be coming, no matter where the house, or what the
company.”
“Doctor Johnson?” repeated Miss Hippesley. “Ah, that is another
matter; I did not know he was expected here to-night. Who brings him,
child?”
“Mr. Robert Mayne knows him well, I heard Mrs. Inchbald saying, and
every one seems so glad and happy. Do you really want to go away?”
Miss Hippesley smiled: “I shall not stay very long, I dare say, but,
as I am here, I shall do my best to be agreeable.”
Clare was afraid she had been forward, but she soon was reassured,
for Miss Hippesley smiled on her, as she rose. Seeking out Lady
Crosbie, the two withdrew, to a seat somewhat removed, from the
company.