THIS is the house, sir.--_Love's Pilgrimage_, Act iv, sc. 2.
Redeunt Saturnia regna.*--VIRGIL.
* "A former state of things returns."
THE next morning, Lumley and his slender companion were rolling rapidly
over the same road on which, sixteen years ago, way-worn and weary, Alice
Darvil had first met with Mrs. Leslie; they were talking about a new
opera-dancer as they whirled by the very spot.
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, the next day, when the
carriage stopped at a cast-iron gate, on which was inscribed this
epigraph, "Hobbs' lodge--Ring the Bell."
"A snug place enough," said Lord Vargrave, as they were waiting the
arrival of the footman to unbar the gate.
"Yes," said Mr. Howard. "If a retired Cit could be transformed into a
house, such is the house he would be."
Poor Dale Cottage,--the home of Poetry and Passion! But change visits
the Commonplace as well as the Romantic. Since Alice had pressed to that
cold grating her wistful eyes, time had wrought his allotted revolutions;
the old had died, the young grown up. Of the children playing on the
lawn, death had claimed some, and marriage others,--and the holiday of
youth was gone for all.
The servant opened the gate. Mr. Robert Hobbs was at home; he had
friends with him,--he was engaged; Lord Vargrave sent in his card, and
the introductory letter from Mr. Winsley. In two seconds, these missives
brought to the gate Mr. Robert Hobbs himself, a smart young man, with a
black stock, red whiskers, and an eye-glass pendant to a hair-chain which
was possibly _a gage d'amour_ from Miss Margaret Winsley.
A profusion of bows, compliments, apologies, etc., the carriage drove up
the sweep, and Lord Vargrave descended, and was immediately ushered into
Mr. Hobbs's private room. The slim secretary followed, and sat silent,
melancholy, and upright, while the peer affably explained his wants and
wishes to the surveyor.
Mr. Hobbs was well acquainted with the locality of Lisle Court, which was
little more than thirty miles distant, he should be proud to accompany
Lord Vargrave thither the next morning. But, might he venture, might he
dare, might he presume--a gentleman who lived at the town of ----- was to
dine with him that day; a gentleman of the most profound knowledge of
agricultural affairs; a gentleman who knew every farm, almost every acre,
belonging to Colonel Maltravers; if his lordship could be induced to
waive ceremony, and dine with Mr. Hobbs; it might be really useful to
meet this gentleman. The slim secretary, who was very hungry, and who
thought he sniffed an uncommonly savoury smell, looked up from his boots.
Lord Vargrave smiled.
"My young friend here is too great an admirer of Mrs. Hobbs--who is to
be--not to feel anxious to make the acquaintance of any member of the
family she is to enter."
Mr. George Frederick Augustus Howard blushed indignant refutation of the
calumnious charge. Vargrave continued,--"As for me, I shall be delighted
to meet any friends of yours, and am greatly obliged for your
consideration. We may dismiss the postboys, Howard; and what time shall
we summon them,--ten o'clock?"
"If your lordship would condescend to accept a bed, we can accommodate
your lordship and this gentleman, and start at any hour in the morning
that--"
"So be it," interrupted Vargrave. "You speak like a man of business.
Howard, be so kind as to order the horses for six o'clock to-morrow.
We'll breakfast at Lisle Court."
This matter settled, Lord Vargrave and Mr. Howard were shown into their
respective apartments. Travelling dresses were changed, the dinner put
back, and the fish over-boiled; but what mattered common fish, when Mr.
Hobbs had just caught such a big one? Of what consequence he should be
henceforth and ever! A peer, a minister, a stranger to the county,--to
come all this way to consult _him_! to be _his_ guest! to be shown off,
and patted, and trotted out before all the rest of the company! Mr.
Hobbs was a made man! Careless of all this, ever at home with any one,
and delighted, perhaps, to escape a _tete-a-tete_ with Mr. Howard in a
strange inn, Vargrave lounged into the drawing-room, and was formally
presented to the expectant family and the famishing guests.
During the expiring bachelorship of Mr. Robert Hobbs, his sister, Mrs.
Tiddy (to whom the reader was first introduced as a bride gathering the
wisdom of economy and large joints from the frugal lips of her mamma),
officiated as lady of the house,--a comely matron, and well-preserved,--
except that she had lost a front tooth,--in a jaundiced satinet gown,
with a fall of British blonde, and a tucker of the same, Mr. Tiddy being
a starch man, and not willing that the luxuriant charms of Mrs. T.
should be too temptingly exposed! There was also Mr. Tiddy, whom his
wife had married for love, and who was now well to do,--a fine-looking
man, with large whiskers, and a Roman nose, a little awry. Moreover,
there was a Miss Biddy or Bridget Hobbs, a young lady of four or five
and twenty, who was considering whether she might ask Lord Vargrave to
write something in her album, and who cast a bashful look of admiration
at the slim secretary, as he now sauntered into the room, in a black
coat, black waistcoat, black trousers, and a black neckcloth, with a
black pin,--looking much like an ebony cane split half-way up. Miss
Biddy was a fair young lady, a _leetle_ faded, with uncommonly thin arms
and white satin shoes, on which the slim secretary cast his eyes and--
shuddered!
In addition to the family group were the Rector of -----, an agreeable
man, who published sermons and poetry; also Sir William Jekyll, who was
employing Mr. Hobbs to make a map of an estate he had just purchased;
also two country squires and their two wives; moreover, the physician of
the neighbouring town,--a remarkably tall man, who wore spectacles and
told anecdotes; and, lastly, Mr. Onslow, the gentleman to whom Mr. Hobbs
had referred,--an elderly man of prepossessing exterior, of high repute
as the most efficient magistrate, the best farmer, and the most sensible
person in the neighbourhood. This made the party, to each individual of
which the great man bowed and smiled; and the great man's secretary bent,
condescendingly, three joints of his backbone.
The bell was now rung, dinner announced. Sir William Jekyll led the way
with one of the she-squires, and Lord Vargrave offered his arm to the
portly Mrs. Tiddy.
Vargrave, as usual, was the life of the feast. Mr. Howard, who sat next
to Miss Bridget, conversed with her between the courses, "in dumb show."
Mr. Onslow and the physician played second and third to Lord Vargrave.
When the dinner was over, and the ladies had retired, Vargrave found
himself seated next to Mr. Onslow, and discovered in his neighbour a most
agreeable companion. They talked principally about Lisle Court, and from
Colonel Maltravers the conversation turned naturally upon Ernest.
Vargrave proclaimed his early intimacy with the latter gentleman,
complained, feelingly, that politics had divided them of late, and told
two or three anecdotes of their youthful adventures in the East. Mr.
Onslow listened to him with much attention.
"I made the acquaintance of Mr. Maltravers many years ago," said he, "and
upon a very delicate occasion. I was greatly interested in him; I never
saw one so young (for he was then but a boy) manifest feelings so deep.
By the dates you have referred to, your acquaintance with him must have
commenced very shortly after mine. Was he at that time cheerful, in good
spirits?"
"No, indeed; hypochondriacal to the greatest degree."
"Your lordship's intimacy with him, and the confidence that generally
exists between young men, induce me to suppose that he may have told you
a little romance connected with his early years."
Lumley paused to consider; and this conversation, which had been carried
on apart, was suddenly broken into by the tall doctor, who wanted to know
whether his lordship had ever heard the anecdote about Lord Thurlow and
the late king. The anecdote was as long as the doctor himself; and when
it was over, the gentlemen adjourned to the drawing-room, and all
conversation was immediately drowned by "Row, brothers, row," which had
only been suspended till the arrival of Mr. Tiddy, who had a fine bass
voice.
Alas! eighteen years ago, in that spot of earth, Alice Darvil had first
caught the soul of music from the lips of Genius and of Love! But better
as it is,--less romantic, but more proper,--as Hobbs' Lodge was less
pretty, but more safe from the winds and rains, than Dale Cottage.
Miss Bridget ventured to ask the good-humoured Lord Vargrave if he sang.
"Not I, Miss Hobbs; but Howard, there!--ah, if you heard _him_!" The
consequence of this hint was, that the unhappy secretary, who, alone, in
a distant corner, was unconsciously refreshing his fancy with some cool
weak coffee, was instantly beset with applications from Miss Bridget,
Mrs. Tiddy, Mr. Tiddy, and the tall doctor, to favour the company with a
specimen of his talents. Mr. Howard could sing,--he could even play the
guitar. But to sing at Hobbs' Lodge, to sing to the accompaniment of
Mrs. Tiddy, to have his gentle tenor crushed to death in a glee by the
heavy splayfoot of Mr. Tiddy's manly bass--the thought was insufferable!
He faltered forth assurances of his ignorance, and hastened to bury his
resentment in the retirement of a remote sofa. Vargrave, who had
forgotten the significant question of Mr. Onslow, renewed in a whisper
his conversation with that gentleman relative to the meditated
investment, while Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy sang "Come dwell with me;" and
Onslow was so pleased with his new acquaintance, that he volunteered to
make a fourth in Lumley's carriage the next morning, and accompany him to
Lisle Court. This settled, the party soon afterwards broke up. At
midnight Lord Vargrave was fast asleep; and Mr. Howard, tossing
restlessly to and fro on his melancholy couch, was revolving all the
hardships that await a native of St. James's, who ventures forth among--
"The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders!"