THE TICKET.
The allusion made by Lord Albert D'Esterre on the preceding evening
to the _fête_ at Avington Park, his excuses and explanations on the
subject of the ticket, together with Lady Dunmelraise's doubtful mode
of receiving them, were circumstances not lost on Mr. Foley; and the
hope that he might not only please Lady Adeline by the attention, but
also, in the event of his success, tacitly throw suspicion on Lord
Albert's sincerity, determined him on endeavouring to procure her,
himself, a ticket for the _fête_.
Consequently, at an early hour the following morning, he sought Lady
Hamlet Vernon, to request her assistance in the accomplishment of
his wishes. The latter possessed too much penetration not to see, in
Mr. Foley's anxiety, an elucidation of the disquiet and uneasiness
betrayed by Lord Albert D'Esterre when the subject of the breakfast
had been accidentally alluded to at Lady Glenmore's by Lord Raynham;
and imagined that she perceived, at once, a point where her own wishes
might be advanced, at the same time that she appeared attending only
to those of the friend who now applied to her. If it was clear to Lady
Hamlet Vernon that some misunderstanding, some unpleasant feeling, had
existed in Lord Albert's mind, connected with the subject, no better
or surer index of it could be found, than in the eager and pressing
solicitude displayed on the same point by the person whom she had
herself principally influenced in the attempt to become his rival; and
to procure the ticket so much wished for (if a possibility of doing
so remained) was therefore the immediate conclusion in Lady Hamlet
Vernon's mind.
In individuals similarly constituted, an explanation of sentiment, or
even of design, is not always requisite; an intuitive principle seems
to guide to the same point, and directs them generally to the use of
the same means; and no interpretation of his wishes was necessary on
the part of Mr. Foley, in the present instance, to ensure him the
earnest co-operation of Lady Hamlet Vernon. The conversation which
had passed on a former occasion between them, on the subject of Lord
Albert D'Esterre's engagement with Lady Adeline, and the result hinted
at of Mr. Foley's probable success, if disposed to hazard his suit,
was alone sufficient to produce an understanding throughout all future
manœuvres in the proceeding, and without a word passing to that
effect: therefore, on the occasion in question, Mr. Foley felt that he
left his application in Lady Hamlet Vernon's hands with a well-founded
assurance of its accomplishment, as far, at least, as her exertions
could promote such an issue.
In a few hours the ticket was procured and transmitted. On receiving
it, Mr. Foley proceeded, with a feeling approaching to triumph, to
South Audley-street; and in presenting it to Lady Dunmelraise, said
something about his happiness in offering what he thought would be
agreeable to Lady Adeline, and his hope that some other opportunity
would afford itself of proving that her wishes were always laws to him;
at the same time, to enhance his air of importance, throwing out hints
(as if carelessly) respecting the small number of persons who were to
constitute the _fête_, and the peculiarities attending its management,
all which insinuated the distinction attached to such as were amongst
the _prièes_. Lady Dunmelraise looked expressively at her daughter,
as she held the ticket in her hand; as though she would have said,
Lord Albert could not procure one; and Lady Adeline, who had sat like
a statue, not daring to trust herself to speak, lest she should betray
her feelings, now felt this silent appeal too much for endurance, and
sought her chamber, there to indulge in an unrepressed burst of sorrow.
"Yes," she cried, in broken utterance, as sobs choked her voice; "yes,
he is faithless, perfidious, and I--I am wretched."
While Lady Adeline gave way to this natural transport of wounded
feeling, her mother guessed too well what her poor child was suffering,
and though she suffered with her, yet she could, in the comparative
calmness of _her_ regret, consider how it was best to act; and Lady
Dunmelraise determined on the propriety and expediency of Adeline going
to the breakfast. She therefore continued to converse with Mr. Foley,
in order to settle all the necessary arrangements, saying,
"But by whom is Adeline to be _chaperoned_? There do not seem to be
many of our acquaintance going, unless, indeed, Lady Borrowdaile, Lady
Aveling, or Lady Feuillemorte; yet she would, I think, prefer Lady
Aveling."
"Pardon me," rejoined Mr. Foley; "none of those ladies are invited."
"Indeed! you astonish me! But the Duchess D'Hermanton; she, at least,
cannot be left out?"
"Her grace's name, I know, is not on the list," replied Mr. Foley.
"That is astonishing! Which of the nobility, then, now in London, are
to be of this party?"
"Those," answered Mr. Foley, "who are of the _scelta_."
"And pray who are those?" He named the Boileaus, De Cheres, Tenderdens,
Tilneys, Leinsengens, &c. &c. Lady Dunmelraise smiled, and then looked
rather grave.
"This would be laughable," she said, "if it were not melancholy to
think, that people can suffer themselves to be so led away by a love of
false distinction, as to attempt to set aside all that is truly good
and great, and to impose laws and rules upon society, whose general
tendency cannot be productive of any real advantage, but the reverse."
Mr. Foley affected to agree with her in part, but said, "There was
always, at all times, something of the same sort existing. It was a
species of excrescence," he said, "which grew out of the plethora
of the London world. It might be dangerous for some; but for Lady
Adeline--he conceived she might look at its folly, and _effleuré_ the
charm of its novelty and splendour, without the least danger."
"It is from this persuasion," rejoined Lady Dunmelraise, "that I can
augur no harm in her attending the breakfast, although I should be
sorry to see her always forming a component part of such a society.
But whom can she accompany on the present occasion? Is Lady Louisa
Blithewaite going?"
"She is: as a sister of the Duke of Mercington's, she has been
admitted."
"That will do," said Lady Dunmelraise. "She is the very person under
whose care I should like my Adeline to be placed. I will write to
her directly." Mr. Foley, who began to fear that after all he should
not carry his point, was now delighted; and he took leave of Lady
Dunmelraise, well pleased with the prospect of his success. When Lady
Dunmelraise had despatched her note to Lady Louisa Blithewaite, she
sought Lady Adeline in her chamber, whom she found in some measure calm
and composed.
"You see how it is, my dearest child; but your painful task will soon
be over, I trust. It is suspense only that is not to be borne, since
it prevents the mind from resting on any one point, or coming to any
conclusion; and it is for this very reason, my loved Adeline, that I
wish you to summon resolution and attend the breakfast. It is right
Lord Albert should know that we are aware of the idle subterfuge he
wished to palm upon our belief; and it is well, too, for your future
peace, that you should so convince yourself of his dereliction of all
honourable principle, that you will not in any after-moment fancy that
you have forfeited all happiness in losing him." By these and similar
reasonings and persuasions, Lady Dunmelraise convinced her daughter
that she ought to comply with her wishes, and prepare to meet this
painful trial. Having, therefore, given way to the infirmity of human
weakness only so far as that indulgence was necessary to a recovery of
self-management, Lady Adeline rallied her powers of mental control;
and with that steady serenity and determination of character which
proceeds from one only source, and which bears up those who act upon
its influence through all the storms of life, she acceded to whatever
Lady Dunmelraise required of her.
In the course of that day, Lord Albert called in South Audley-street;
but neither Lady Adeline nor her mother were at home. In the
distempered state of his mind, he thought he had been denied, and in
this idea he was almost confirmed by seeing Mr. Foley leave the house
a few moments after he had ridden from the door; though, in fact, this
was not the case, the latter having merely gone into the drawing-room
a short time before Lord Albert called, to leave a note explanatory of
some points respecting the hour of going to the _fête_, &c. &c. and
which Lady Dunmelraise had requested him to ascertain. The effect,
however, produced upon Lord Albert's imagination was the same as if
the fact had been so; and in this effervescence of mind he directed
his horse's head, with a feeling of something like habit, towards Lady
Hamlet Vernon's.
When the heart is bruised, and the understanding perplexed, it is
astonishing to think how the strongest minds turn to lean on some one
being whom they deem willing to soothe and share in their feelings;
and if it is a weakness, it is one so linked to all the best parts of
our nature, that there would be no advantage gained by exchanging it
for that cold hardness of self-sufficiency, to which some persons lay
claim as affording them a superiority over their fellow-creatures. Such
was certainly not Lord Albert's case. Whatever he might or might not
confess to himself, it was with a worn-out spirit that he sought Lady
Hamlet Vernon; and on hearing that she was at home, he threw himself
off his horse, and hastened into her presence. Although she was too
well skilled in reading the human heart, not to be aware that she owed
this visit rather to his displeasure in other quarters, than from a
spontaneous wish to enjoy her society, yet she received him, as she
always did, with those gentle smiles which captivate the heart, and
which is the temper ever sought for and expected in woman.
Lady Hamlet Vernon knew that the general selfishness of man seeks
only the reflection of his own sensations from the sympathy of women;
and that whatever cause a woman may have of pain or pleasure, it is
_his_ feelings, and not her own, which she must consult, soothe, and
influence; and that, in short, when she ceases to be his sunshine, he
ceases to court her influence.
It was acting under this conviction, which made Lady Hamlet Vernon,
with infallible delicacy and truth of tact, neither seem to search into
secrets which Lord Albert did not choose to reveal, nor yet appear
carelessly ignorant of the melancholy restlessness by which she saw
him affected; but alternately she soothed, flattered, and sympathized
in all he said, till at last she succeeded, for the time being, in
reconciling him with himself, and in a great measure allaying the
irritation of those various feelings which almost distracted him when
he first entered her apartment.
Before he took his leave, it was finally arranged between them, that
he should accompany her to the _fête_ the next day, if he could leave
Downing-street in time; and if he could not, he would, he said, meet
her at Avington Park, and go there with Lord Glenmore, who, in the
event of his being detained, would be detained also.
While thus variously agitated had been the feelings of some, whose
hearts, by circumstances, had become interested in this idle _fête_,
the principal movers in it, in _their_ way, were not less anxious for
its success and brilliancy. For the preservation of its exclusive and
chosen character, and the arrangement of all its endless detail of
luxury, each member of the _société choisie_ was more or less busy
and _affairé_. Lady Tilney, with her usual activity, was the first
in her exertions; driving to the houses of all connected with the
arrangements, examining into every minute particular, and, above all,
guarding against the possibility of any persons whose name was not
on her list creeping in through the weakness of some member of the
committee, who, in a moment of unallowed natural feeling, might have
invited a sister, or a mother, or a brother, who were from a class
_without the pale_.
At Lady Ellersby's she met Lady Tenderden, and the Countess Leinsengen,
and Lady De Chere, and Lord Boileau, who came in, as though by chance,
one after the other, each saying, in different words, the same thing.
"How fortunate I am to have met you! I wished to know at what hour you
are to go to Avington Park to-morrow;" and all applied to Lady Tilney.
She named three o'clock.
"La!" cried Lady Ellersby, "I shall not have awoke from my first sleep
at that hour: surely four o'clock is quite time enough."
"_I_ shall not go till den," cried the Comtesse Leinsengen. "One has
always enough of dose tings dat last for ever. Breakfast, dinner,
supper, and den breakfast again, before one gets away."
"Oh! but you know," replied Lady Tenderden, "dis _fête_, my dear
comtesse, is not like any other; dere will be no one dere but
ourselves, our own _société_; and dere are so many pleasant tings to be
done,--going on de water, walking about, and de _loterie_; one would
not choose to lose dat."
"Oh! certainly not," exclaimed Lady Boileau. "I am told there are to be
some exceedingly magnificent things. Lord Albert D'Esterre has bought
some really fine jewels."
"Perhaps so," said Lady De Chere in her blunt way; "but we all know
_who_ will have these: the chances are wisely ordained _beforehand_."
"Have you got your _billet de loterie_?" asked the Comtesse Leinsengen
of the speaker.
"No," replied Lady De Chere with an air of pique, "but I _am_ to have
one."
"Certainly," rejoined Lady Tilney, who read the Comtesse's intended
triumph; and who chose to show her, on many occasions, that if any one
had a right to tyrannize it was herself, or that at least, if such a
thing were attempted, it should be _à qui mieux mieux_.
"Certainly, Lady Boileau, there will be a lottery ticket for _you_, and
all the _other_ ladies; at least, I shall conceive it exceedingly wrong
indeed if there is not. But should there be any mistake, depend upon
_my_ rectifying it. And now, ladies," she continued, addressing them
generally, "there is one point we have not touched upon--our costume."
"Oh! _demi-toilette_, of course," exclaimed Lady Tenderden.
"Of course," echoed Lady Tilney, afraid lest it should be thought
that she had asked the question with a view to arrange her own dress
according to her friends' dictation: "but I meant, should we have a
_change_ of dress for the evening?"
"Oh! what a trouble!" said Lady Ellersby.
"Yes, my dear; but you know, after walking about all day, our dress
will not look fresh for the evening," said Lady Boileau. "However, I
am told, that among other _galanteries_ our cavaliers have engaged a
certain number of milliners, to be in attendance with every kind of
decoration, so that we need think little on that point."
"No, really!" cried Lady Ellersby, with something more than her usual
animation: "that is well imagined."
"And I will tell you," said Lady Tenderden, "what is the prettiest
ting of all, de best imagined possible,--every lady is to have her
cipher formed of her chosen flower. As to me, I shall be like Louis
de Fourteenth's favourite, and am to have _un salon tout tapissé de
jonquilles_. After all is said, dere is nobody but the French dat know
what it is to be gallant. And now, _mes chères dames_, I must depart.
If any thing occurs, any change takes place, you will let me know. You
have all settled your parties for going, of course: mine has been long
arranged wid de Glenmores and Mr. Leslie Winyard. Adieu, adieu!"
"Of course," said the Comtesse Leinsengen: "mi ladi need not to have
taken de pains to inform us on dat subject."
"I think," said Lady Tilney, "considering that this party is made
expressly by _us_, and is quite a thing apart, that she might have
passed over for once her tiresome preference of every thing French. But
she is always making out that it is the French alone who do every thing
in perfection; and that is exceedingly impolite, to say the least of
it."
"Very true," added Lady De Chere; "and considering that she is what she
is by having married an Englishman, _c'est un peu fort_."
"But," said Lady Tilney, breaking abruptly off, "I must say adieu.
_Chère_ Lady Ellersby, adieu! Remember! three o'clock, at the latest,
to-morrow. And we positively can allow no more tickets. No persuasions
or entreaties must be suffered to prevail. The affair is finished. I
have put my veto on the D'Hermanton," she added, turning round as she
approached the door: "that would have been too much."
"I wonder," said Lady Ellersby, as Lady Tilney left the room, "that she
is not dead with fatigue. Surely never any body did so much."
"To so little purpose," said the Comtesse Leinsengen sharply; "for,
after all, de public of your nation are a great deal too _revêche_ to
let any one person lead dem about _à droite et à gauche_. Much better
it is to cut de matter short, to have one's own _société_, and never
care what any body says or does or tinks. Please oneself one's own way,
dat is de true liberty. But dat ladi has so _many fire-irons_ all going
at once, some of dem must fail, and den she is out of humour."
There was a general smile at what the comtesse had said; and they all
enjoyed hearing Lady Tilney found fault with, though no one exactly
chose to be the person who should hazard such an opinion.
"Ah! comtesse," observed Lady Boileau, "you are the most amusing person
in the world."
"_Seulement parce que je suis la plus franche_," she replied; and
kissing her hand to Lady Ellersby, glided out of the room.
"If she had said _brusque_, instead of _franche_," cried Lady De
Chere, "she would have been nearer the truth."
"Eh, eh, eh!" laughed Lady Ellersby, as she observed, "Perhaps so; but
it is like smelling salts to hear her remarks; and really I do not know
what I should do without something pungent now and then to keep me
awake."
"Besides," rejoined Lady Boileau, "we have all our own particular
meanings for particular phrases; and Comtesse Leinsengen is not the
only person who gives her own meaning to a phrase which, in its general
acceptation, is of quite a different import. Don't you agree with me,
Lady De Chere?"
"May be so. But in as far as regards myself, I always mean what I
say, though I do not say always all that I mean. But we are quite
philosophical, and I have no time for disquisitions; so, fair ladies,
good day, and may to-morrow be propitious for hats, caps, and
_falbalas_. In that we are all agreed. Farewell!" And she departed.
"My dear Lady Ellersby," said Lady Boileau, approaching her in a voice
of earnest entreaty, "do not let Lady Tilney forget my lottery-ticket;
for, after all, you know, one likes to have a _chance_ of the fine
things."
"Oh yes! ONE does. I will not forget. Trust to me."
"You are always _so_ good-humoured! Adieu, then, _till_ to-morrow! I
know you will not forget me."
"Not if you can prevent it," said Lady Ellersby to herself, as she
closed the door, and rose to ring her bell. "Send Fanchon to me." And
when Fanchon, the maid, obeyed the summons, her mistress said, "I
am half dead with the clamour of those dear friends of mine. Put my
_roquelaure_ over me, and let me sleep. See that I be not disturbed.
How loud they did all talk!"