The next day I proposed to my new _dame de compagnie_, Miss Eliza
Higgins, to dress herself quickly, in order to accompany me into the
park.
"How do you do? how do you do?" said Lord Fife, as he joined us near
Cumberland Gate. "Who is your friend?" he continued, appearing to eye
Miss Higgins with looks of admiration, much to my astonishment. "Am I
not to be introduced to your friend?"
"_Et pourquoi pas?_" said I, naming Miss Higgins, with whom he
conversed, as though her acquaintance had been the thing on earth most
devoutly to be wished.
"What a funny little bonnet you have got on!" said his lordship to my
companion, interrupting himself in the middle of a long story from the
North.
After Lord Fife had left us, Miss Eliza Higgins could speak of nothing
else.
"Charming man, ma'am, the Earl of Fife! I have heard much of him; but
never had the honour to be presented to him before. That is a man now, a
poor weak female would find it very difficult to resist. His Lordship is
so condescending! so polite!"
When we were tired of walking in the park, I drove to the house of a
married sister of mine, whose name we will call Paragon, since she was
the very paragon of mothers, having drawn up a new, patent system of
education for her children, better than Jean Jacques Rousseau's, and
unlike everybody's else.
Her family consists of two boys and two girls. The eldest daughter was
then nearly seven years of age: her son and heir had scarcely attained
his fifth year. "They shall never go to school," said my sister Paragon,
"nor will I suffer them to be left one instant to the care of nurses or
servants, to learn bad grammar and worse morals. Neither shall they be
told of such things as thieves or murderers; much less shall they hear
anything about falsehood and deceit. They shall never obtain what they
want by tears nor rudeness after the age of two; and it shall depend on
the politeness and humility of their deportment, whether they have any
dinner or not; and nothing shall be called indecent which is natural,
either in words or deeds. So much for the minds of my children; and,
with regard to their bodily health, I shall make them swallow one of
Anderson's Scot's Aperient Pills every night of their blessed lives! _et
il n'y aura rien à craindre!_"
Sister Paragon was very pretty. She had the sweetest, most lovely eyes
I ever beheld: and not because they were large, or of the finest hazel
colour; I allude to their character and expression; now flashing with
indignation, now soft, and yet so bright that one might almost see one's
own reflected in them. Paragon's little nose too was very pretty, even
when red and frost-bitten; and she had a beautiful mole on her clear
brown cheek. She did not at all resemble either a paragon or a prude;
and yet I am the only one of all our family who am not afraid of her wit
or her virtue. She married a gentleman of good family and connections,
though poor; and, when she did this, she almost broke the tender heart
of the reverend Orange patriot, Sir Harcourt Lees, baronet, of Irish
notoriety, who had often proposed to her on his knees, and on his--seat,
and with his whole heart! "He was a good little fellow," Paragon would
often say, "but his face was so like a knocker!"
_C'est bien dommage!_
Paragon's husband was not in London when I called on her. She was
sitting with four of the most lovely children I ever beheld at one
time. Her eldest daughter was almost as beautiful as our mother, whose
equal I never saw nor shall see on earth. She had her mother's eye, her
grandmother's nose, and her nice little aunt Harriette's curly brown
hair. Then she was so graceful, and spoke such good French!
"Mary!" said Paragon to her daughter, as soon as she had shaken hands
with me, and inquired after my health, "Mary, come away from the window
directly. Fie! for shame! Do not you see those two men at the corner of
the street are tipsy? Is that a proper sight to attract a young's lady's
attention?"
Little Mary was in high spirits. She talked of love! and said she knew,
very well, that everybody fell in love, and that she was in love, too,
herself.
"With whom, pray?" asked Paragon.
"With my brother John," answered little Mary; and next she asked her
mother, when she might marry him, declaring that she could not wait much
longer.
"To bed! to bed!" said mamma. "You must all go to bed directly."
"Already?" I asked. "Why it is not six o'clock yet."
"No matter. I am tired to death of them, and they are always asleep
before seven."
In less than five minutes the children were all running about stark
naked as they were born, laughing, romping, and playing with each other.
Little Sophia, who was not yet two years of age, did nothing but run
after her beautiful brother Henry, a dear, little, laughing boy, who
was about to celebrate his fourth birthday. Little Sophia, bred in the
school of nature, handled her brother rather oddly, I thought.
Paragon then put them to bed, gave them a Scotchman, in the shape of a
pill, and all was still as the grave!
"Good night, my dear Paragon," said I. "Lord Hertford dines at eight,
and I shall not be ready."
"I saw you at the opera, last night," Paragon remarked, "and truly
it was an unfair monopoly, to keep two such fine young men as Lord
Worcester and the Duke of Leinster to yourself. I admire the latter
of all things; so you may send Leinster to me, if you prefer Lord
Worcester."
"How wicked!" said I. "If ever you, with such a beautiful young family,
were to go astray, you must despair of forgiveness."
"Very fine talking," answered Paragon. "So you would score off your own
sins, by a little cut-and-dried advice which costs you nothing."
Her son and heir interrupted her at this moment, by such hard breathing
as almost amounted to a snore.
"That boy has caught cold!" observed mamma, and she awoke him to
administer an extra Scotchman.
"Good-bye, good-bye," said I, running downstairs; and when I got home,
I had only ten minutes left _pour faire ma toilette_. As to Miss Eliza
Higgins, Lord Fife's compliments had so subdued her, that she could not
afford me the least assistance.
"A charming man, the Earl of Fife!" she was repeating, for at least the
fiftieth time, when a note was put into my hand bearing the noble earl's
arms, and my footman at that moment informed me that my carriage was at
the door.
"Any answer for Lord Fife, ma'am?" asked my servant.
I hastily read the note, which contained his lordship's request to pass
the evening with me and my lovely companion. I did not show this to Miss
Higgins on that occasion, because it seemed so very _outré_ and unhoped
for that I feared it might from the mere surprise have caused sudden
death.
"My compliments only," said I; "tell his lordship I am very sorry, but I
cannot write, because I am this instant getting into my carriage to dine
with Lord Hertford:" and so saying I followed my servant downstairs.
Lord Hertford had not invited one person to meet us; but his excellent
dinner, good wine, and very intelligent conversation, kept us alive
till a very late hour. I mean no compliment to Lord Hertford, for he
has acted very rudely to me of late; but he is a man possessing more
general knowledge than any one I know. His lordship appears to be _au
fait_ on every subject one can possibly imagine. Talk to him of drawing
or horse-riding, painting or cock-fighting; rhyming, cooking or fencing;
profligacy or morals; religion of whatever creed; languages living or
dead; claret or burgundy; champagne or black-strap; furnishing houses or
riding hobbies; the flavour of venison or breeding poll-parrots; and you
might swear that he had served his apprenticeship to every one of them.
[Illustration: A VIEW of YARMOUTH.]
After dinner he showed us miniatures by the most celebrated artists,
of at least half a hundred lovely women, black, brown, fair, and even
carroty, for the amateur's sympathetic _bonne bouche_. These were all
beautifully executed: and no one with any knowledge of painting could
hear him expatiate on their various merits, without feeling that he was
qualified to preside at the Royal Academy itself! The light, the shade,
the harmony of colours, the vice of English painters, the striking
characters of Dutch artists--_Ma foi!_ No such thing as foisting sham
Vandykes, or copies from Rubens, on Lord Hertford, as I believe is done,
or as I am sure might be done, on the Duke of Devonshire: and yet His
Grace, I rather fancy, must be in the habit of sending advertisements
to the newspapers relative to his taste in _vertu_ and love of the
arts. If not, how comes it that everybody hears of Devonshire pictures
of his own choosing, while Lord Hertford's most correct judgment never
graces those diurnal columns. His lordship does not buy them, either
by so much a hundred or so much a foot; but if the town did not talk
about Devonshire's pictures, Devonshire's fortune, and Devonshire's
parties, he would be a blank in the creation. Once indeed he was
slandered with bastardy; but that passed off quietly, as it ought to
do; for who would have made it their pastime to beget such a lump of
unintelligible matter. Though surely that's enough for a duke, were it
even a Wellington. Not that a man is to blame for being stupid, be he
duke or tinker; but then Devonshire is so incorrigibly affected and
stingy withal! I remember his calling on me and pretending to make love
to me; and, with an air of condescension and protection, asking me in
what way he could serve me. For my part I am always inclined to judge of
others by my own heart; I therefore took him at his word, believing that
a man of such princely fortune would not, unasked, proffer his services
to anybody to whom he was not disposed to send a few hundreds when they
should require it. Being some time afterwards in such a predicament, and
having promised to apply to him, I sent to him for a hundred guineas.
His Grace begged to be excused sending so large a sum, at the same time
assuring me that a part of it was at my service.
Oh, what a fine thing is the patronage of mighty dukes!
Apropos. I must not be ungrateful. The most noble, I ought to say
the most gracious, the Duke of Devonshire once sent me two presents!
The one, in a parcel, wrapped up in fine paper and sealed with the
Devonshire arms.
"A parcel, madam!" said my footman, "and the Duke of Devonshire's
servant waits while you acknowledge the receipt of it."
The parcel contained a very ugly, old, red pocket-handkerchief! His
Grace, in the note which accompanied this most magnificent donation,
acknowledged that it was hideous; but then, he assured me, it was the
self-same which he had worn on his breast when he made it serve for an
under-waistcoat, on the occasion of his visit to me the day before. This
however was not all. In the warmth of his heart he sent me a ring too!
I think it must have been bought at Lord Deerhurst's jewellers, and yet
perhaps it was gold, instead of brass; but such a mere wire, that it
could not weigh a shilling's-worth. Still, had it been of brass, and
the gift of a friend who loved me, I should have worn it as long as it
had lasted; but, being that of the Duke of Devonshire, who cared nothing
about me, I sent it him back, to punish his vanity, in supposing that
trifles light as air could be prized by me, because they came from him.
As to his ugly, old, red pocket-handkerchief, I gave it to my footman,
and told the donor that I had done so.
But, to proceed.
Lord Hertford showed us a vast collection of gold and silver coins,
portraits, drawings, curious snuff-boxes and watches. He had long been
desirous that Amy, Fanny, and myself should sit to Lawrence, for a large
family-picture, to be placed in his collection.
Though the tea and coffee, like our dinner, were exquisite, Hertford
made a good-natured complaint to his French commander-in-chief about the
cream.
"Really," said his lordship, addressing us in English, "for a man who
keeps a cow, it is a great shame to be served with such bad cream!"
"I knew not," said I, "that you were the man who kept a cow. Pray where
is she?"
"In Hyde Park," he replied, "just opposite my windows."
Lord Hertford then proposed to show us a small detached building, which
he had taken pains to fit up in a very luxurious style of elegance.
A small, low gate, of which he always kept the key, opened into Park
Lane, and a little, narrow flight of stairs, covered with crimson cloth,
conducted to this retirement. It consisted of a dressing-room, a small
sitting-room, and a bed-chamber. Over the elegant French bed was a fine
picture of a sleeping Venus. There were a great many other pictures,
and their subjects, though certainly warm and voluptuous, were yet too
classical and graceful to merit the appellation of indecent. He directed
our attention to the convenience of opening the door himself to any fair
lady who would honour him with a visit _incognita_, after his servants
should have prepared a most delicious supper and retired to rest. He
told us many curious anecdotes of the advantage he derived from his
character for discretion.
"I never tell of any woman. No power on earth should induce me to name a
single female, worthy to be called woman, by whom I have been favoured.
In the first place; because I am not tired of variety and wish to
succeed again: in the second, I think it dishonourable."
He told us a story of a lady of family, well known in the fashionable
world, whose intrigue with a young dragoon he had discovered by the
merest and most unlooked-for accident. "I accused her of the fact,"
continued his lordship, "and refused to promise secrecy till she had
made me as happy as she had made the young dragoon."
"Was this honourable?" I asked.
"Perhaps not," answered Hertford; "but I could not help it."
We did not leave Lord Hertford till near two o'clock, when he kindly set
us all down himself in his own carriage.
The next morning, before I had finished my breakfast, a great, big,
stupid Irishman was announced, by name Dominick Brown, with whom I had
a slight acquaintance. He brought with him, for the purpose of being
presented to me, the Marquis of Sligo. They sat talking on indifferent
subjects for about an hour, and then drove off in his lordship's
curricle. Next came a note from Lord Fife, requesting permission to
drink tea with me and my charming friend. "Who would have thought it?"
said I to myself, laughing. "Here am I playing second fiddle to Miss
Eliza Higgins for the amusement of her most charming man, the Earl of
Fife!" I wrote on the back of his note:
"Going to Vauxhall; but you may come to-morrow evening at nine."
I thought that Miss Eliza Higgins would have fainted when I told her
that Lord Fife was coming to us.
"Oh dear, ma'am, what would you advise me to wear? If you would not
think it a liberty, and would lend me the pattern of your sweet blue
cap, I would sit up all night to complete one like it."
"All this energy about drinking tea with a rake of a Scotchman,--whom
you know would not marry an angel,--and pretend to tell me that you are
_une grande vertu?_" said I.
"Certainly," answered Miss Eliza Higgins, reddening.
"Fiddlestick!" was my sublime ejaculation.
Miss Eliza Higgins burst into tears.
"Nay," I continued, "this fit of heroics to me is ridiculous. I ask
nothing of you but plain dealing. The fact is this, I am not curious but
frank. Lord Fife wants to make your acquaintance, and it is not my wish
to spoil any woman's preferment in whatever line of life, whether good
or bad: so, guessing from all the raptures you have expressed at the
idea of this rake's attachment, that the governess of the young countess
Palmella is no better than she should be, I have agreed to receive his
lordship; but, since these tears of virtuous indignation have convinced
me of the injustice I did you, heaven forbid that I should be the means
of bringing Lord Fife and a vestal together, for fear of consequences!"
I then quietly opened my writing-desk and began framing an excuse
lordship.
"Surely you are not putting off the Earl of Fife?" said Miss Eliza
Higgins, in breathless agitation.
"I think it wrong to introduce such a gay man to an innocent woman," was
my answer.
Miss Higgins entreated and begged in vain.
"Well then," said Miss Higgins, "I confess that I once----"
"Once what?" I asked.
"I had a slip--a--yes--a slip!" And she held her handkerchief to her
eyes.
"What do you call a slip? Do you mean a petticoat or an intrigue!"
"Oh, fie! fie!" said Miss Eliza Higgins. "Intrigue is such a shocking
word, and conveys a more determined idea of loose morals than a mere
accidental slip."
I still persisted in sending the excuse, declaring that, since hers had
been only an accidental slip, she might recover it.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" said Miss Higgins, as my hand was extended to the
bell, "what poor weak creatures we are! I quite forgot the General!"
"General who?"
"Why, General--, but you will be secret?"
"As the grave, of course."
"Did you ever hear of General Mackenzie?" said Miss Eliza Higgins,
spreading her hand across her forehead.
"He was Fred Lamb's General in Yorkshire?" I answered.
"The same, madam, a fascinating man! and this is my excuse."
"True," said I, "and I remember all the servant maids and Yorkshire
milkwomen confessed his power."
"Most true!" said Miss Eliza Higgins, with a deep sigh.
"What then, you have forgotten the Earl of Fife already?"
"Oh, his lordship is quite another thing," said Miss Higgins,
brightening.
"And another thing is what you wish for?"
"Oh fie, ma'am! indeed you are too severe. These little accidents do
and must happen, from mere inexperience and the weakness of our nature.
I know several women, who have made most excellent wives after a slip
or two, which I assure you madam often serves to fortify our virtue
afterwards."
"Well, then," said I, resuming my pen, "lest the gay Lord Fife should
break through the formidable bulwark of virtue which has been already
fortified by two intrigues, I shall most positively send him an excuse."
"I entreat, I implore, ma'am, do not refuse my first request. Who knows
what may turn up?" In short never was Brougham himself more eloquent!
Not even on that memorable day when he was employed by Lord Charles
Bentinck to show just cause why Lady Abdy ought to have cuckolded Sir
William as she did. She ultimately prevailed; and all-conquering Fife
was expected with rapture.
Before dinner I went to call on Julia, by whom I had been sent for.
Extreme anxiety had brought on a _fausse couche_; but Julia, being
as well as could be expected, hoped still to be able to join us at
Brighton, if not to accompany us there. My sister Sophia was sitting by
her bedside, looking very pretty, and much happier than when she was
with Lord Deerhurst.
Fanny called on Julia, whose house she had changed for one in
Hertford-street, Mayfair, on her acquaintance with Colonel Parker, whose
name at his particular request she had now taken.
"My dear Fanny," said I, "what am I to do with your boy George? We shall
never make a scholar of him, and he declares that he will not be a
sailor."
"Flog him! Flog him!" said Amy, who overheard what I was saying, as she
entered the room accompanied by a man in powder. "I flog my boy Campbell
every hour in the day."
I never saw such a man in all my life as her powdered swain. "I too am
for flogging," said he, "since, such as you see me here before you, I am
become by mere dint of birch."
"_Dieu nous en preserve!_" said I, hurrying into my carriage. Having
reached home too early for dinner, I sat down to consider the plan of
a book in the style of the _Spectator_, a kind of picnic, where every
wiseacre might contribute his mite of knowledge at so much a head,
provided he and she would sign their real names to the paper.
Having imagined myself to be a wild lad, like my young scamp of a
nephew, addressing a second _Rambler_ or _Spectator_, whom I ventured to
name Momus, I addressed as follows:
"MR. MOMUS,--I am one of those unfortunate victims whose hard
fate was decided before I was born, and _bon gré, mal gré_, I must
become a prodigy of learning. Now, Mr. Momus, I have to inform
you that, notwithstanding I love my parents above all the world,
yet I abhor and detest everything in the way of study. Floggings,
rewards, private tutors and public schools, have all been tried
in vain; and, though I am at fifteen becoming somewhat hardened
against my father's harsh sarcasms on my stupidity, yet fain would
I exert myself to dry up the tears my poor mother often sheds, for
the disappointment of her sanguine wishes on my account; but for
the strong conviction I feel that it is as impossible to acquire a
taste for study, as to benefit by a forced application to books.
"'Learn, oh youth,' says Zimmerman, one of my tutor's
favourite authors, 'learn, oh young man! that nothing will
so easily subdue your passion for pleasure as an increasing
emulation in great and virtuous actions, a hatred to idleness and
frivolity, the study of the sciences, and that high and dignified
spirit, which looks with disdain, on everything that is vile and
contemptible.'
"All very fine old boy, and clear as the nose in your face.
A hatred of idleness, Mr. Zimmerman, is a love of industry; but
how is this love and this hatred to be acquired? '_Voilà_,' said
a French matron to Monsieur le Duc de ----, at Paris, throwing
open the doors of an elegant apartment, '_Voilà la chambre où
l'on_' ... '_Mais, où est la chambre où l'on--?_' said the duke.
"'Try solitude,' says Zimmerman--
"My father has tried that too, and it failed--but then,
Zimmerman continues, 'for solitude to produce these happy effects
it is not sufficient to be continually gazing out of a window with
a vacant mind, nor gravely walking up and down your study, in a
ragged _robe de chambre_ and worn-out slippers. The soul must feel
an eager desire to roam at large.'
"Now, Mr. Zimmerman, as far as regards a new pair of slippers
and a clean dressing-gown, your advice has been duly attended to;
but my mind is not the less vacant, whether I gaze out of window,
walk, or sit down; therefore, Mr. Momus, I now entreat you to
favour me with your candid opinion, whether a fool can be teased
into a genius, or a genius into a fool? It strikes me, on the
contrary, that, under every imaginable disadvantage, a man will
contrive to improve himself where the taste for study be genuine,
and, where it does not exist, compulsion will but add disgust to
what was before only indifference.
"My tutor read to me this morning, an anecdote of Petrarch,
the celebrated Italian poet. One of Petrarch's friends, the Bishop
of Cavaillon, being alarmed lest the intense application with
which he studied might totally ruin a constitution already much
impaired, requested of him one day the key of his library. Petrarch
immediately gave it him, and the good bishop instantly locking
up his books and writings, said, 'Petrarch, I hereby interdict
you from the use of pen, ink, and paper, for the space of ten
days.' The sentence was severe; but the offender suppressed his
feelings and submitted to his fate. The first day of his exile
from his favourite pursuits was tedious, the second accompanied
with incessant headache, and the third brought on symptoms of
an approaching fever,--'Sir,' said I, interrupting my tutor,
'my symptoms of fever are also coming on: everybody to their
vocation,--you must allow me to take a ride.' Farewell, Mr. Momus,
I wait impatiently for your good advice, which I do not feel much
afraid of; because you are neither a grey-beard nor a scholar.
"I remain, your obedient servant,
"HARRY HAIRBRAIN."
ANSWER
"Though I am neither a grey-beard nor a scholar, my young
correspondent will not be a jot the better pleased with me when I
inform him that I would recommend his being deprived both of his
horse and his liberty, and throw him altogether on the resources of
his own active mind for his whole and sole amusement, amongst books
and grey-beards, where he might either study or look on, as he
pleased; at the same time, I quite agree with my correspondent as
to the folly of labouring to extract blood from a stone, although
this, judging from the spirit of his letter, is very far from a
case in point."
It was now dinner-time, so I resolved to dress for Vauxhall after that
was over.
"I wonder," said Miss Eliza Higgins, as she assisted at my toilette, "I
wonder if the Earl of Fife will be at Vauxhall? What a bore this little
green satin gipsy-hat is, and what a magnificent plume of feathers! How
divinely they fall over your shoulders! What a heavenly taste Madame le
Brun has!"
Miss Eliza Higgins, as it will be perceived, doted on superlatives.
Lord Frederick Bentinck came for me before I was half ready.
"It's quite a bore! you always keep me waiting," said his lordship, when
I came downstairs. "I cannot amuse myself in the least in this room, for
I dare not open any one of your books, being always afraid of hitting
upon something indecent or immoral."
"Come," said I, "we shall be late, if you stand prosing there."
"I am thinking," said Frederick Bentinck, without stirring.
"You can think," I interrupted him, "as we go along." I took hold of his
hand, and pulled him towards the door.
"Stop a minute," continued his lordship, "and attend to what I say. I
risk a great deal, in going out with a woman like you."
"What do you mean by a woman like me?"
"Why--a woman--a woman--in short, and to speak plainly, of your loose
morals!"
"You blockhead!" said I, running downstairs, and having determined in my
own mind to be even with him.
The gardens were crowded to excess.
The late Marquess of Londonderry flattered my vanity, and made me
prouder than ever my conquest of Lord Worcester could do, by merely
looking at me. He certainly looked a great deal more than perhaps his
lady might have thought civil. He struck me, particularly on that
evening, as one of the most interesting looking men I had ever seen. At
first Lord Frederick seemed rather timid, in regard to my loose morals
and my striking elegant dress; but, observing that I excited some little
admiration and that his sister, as he told me, looked at me as if she
had been much surprised and pleased with me, he now grew proud of having
me on his arm and pressed forward into the crowd; but I constantly
tugged at his arm till I got into the most retired walks.
"What are you afraid of?" said Lord Frederick.
"Why, not of your loose morals: but the fact is, I, who am accustomed to
go about with the chosen Apollos of the age, shall get terribly laughed
at for being at Vauxhall with such a quiz as you. Not that I doubt your
being a very excellent sort of man."
Fred Bentinck laughed with perfect good-humour. He had no vanity, and
was so fond of me that I was welcome to laugh at him, and, provided he
saw me amused, he was happy.
"I could listen while Harriette talked, though it were for a year
together," said Lord Frederick one day to Julia, when I was not present.
Indeed he made it a point never to say anything civil to me; but all his
actions proved his friendship and regard for me.
At four o'clock in the morning I found Miss Eliza Higgins busy about the
new cap which was to kill the Thane.
"Was the Earl of Fife in the gardens?" she inquired, the moment I
entered my dressing-room.
The next evening, behold myself and Miss Higgins seated on the sofa
before our tea-table, in expectation of Lord Fife. Miss Higgins's new
cap would have improved her beauty, had she not diminished its lustre
by sitting up all night to finish it; but her fine hair, which was her
solitary charm, was suffered to flow over her neck and shoulders in
graceful, childish negligence. As for me, the part of second fiddle
being altogether new to me, I took the liberty of appearing in my
morning dress. Nine was the hour named by Lord Fife, and Miss Higgins
had taken out her old-fashioned French watch at least twenty times
since she entered the drawing-room, when the house-clock struck that
wished-for and lagging hour.
"Is his lordship punctual generally speaking, pray, ma'am?"
"Quite the reverse, I believe," said I, half asleep.
"You have a good heart, I know, ma'am, and we females ought naturally to
assist each other in all our little peccadillos," remarked my companion.
"Well?"
"Why, ma'am, I am going to ask your advice, who are better acquainted
with his lordship's tastes than I am. I was thinking now, that this
little netting-box is pretty and lady-like! Shall I be netting a purse,
or will it have a better effect to put on my gloves and be doing
nothing?"
Before I could answer this deep question my footman entered the room
with a letter, sealed with a large coronet, and told me that a servant
waited below for an answer.
"I will ring when it is ready, James," said I, opening the letter.
"It is an excuse from the Earl of Fife!" said Miss Eliza Higgins,
growing whiter than her pearl powder.
Indignation kept me silent after reading the following impertinent
letter from the Marquis of Sligo, to whom I had only been presented the
day before.
"MY DEAR MISS WILSON,--Will you be so condescending as to
allow me to pass this evening alone with you after Lord Lansdowne's
party?
"SLIGO."
I had not been so enraged for several years! I rang my bell with such
violence that I frightened Miss Eliza Higgins out of the very little wit
she possessed.
"Who waits?" said I to James.
"A servant in livery," was the answer.
"Send him up to me."
A well-bred servant, in a cocked hat and dashing livery entered my room,
with many bows.
"Here is some mistake," said I, presenting him the unsealed and unfolded
letter of Lord Sligo. "This letter could not be meant for me, to whom
his lordship was only presented yesterday. Take it back, young man, and
say from me, that I request he will be careful how he misdirects his
letters in future; an accident which is no doubt caused by his writing
after dinner."
The man bowed low, and took away the open communication with him.
"The earl may yet arrive then?" observed Miss Eliza Higgins, recovered
herself.
A loud knock at the door now put the matter almost beyond a doubt, and,
in another minute, in walked the redoubtable Earl of Fife, in a curious
black and tan broad striped satin waistcoat, which was ornamented with
a large gold chain. His watch was very gay, as were his numerous
seals, at least twenty in number. "Surely," thought I, as I threw a
hasty glance at Miss Eliza Higgins's long, narrow, ill-shaped forehead,
brilliant with agitation and pearl-powder, "surely the man must be
purblind or it may be his eyes were filled with dust on Sunday, when we
met him in the park." However, to my astonishment, his lordship was all
rapture, and did nothing but ogle my fair _dame de compagnie_, as though
she had been really fair.
As to Miss Eliza Higgins, it had been previously settled and agreed on
between us that modesty was to be the order of the day.
"I am not so vain as to fancy myself altogether handsomer than you are,
madame," said the humble Miss Eliza to me, "and yet it is clear that the
Earl of Fife prefers me; I therefore conceive that I may have appeared
to him more timid and modest; therefore it will be better to keep up
that character: do not you agree with me, ma'am?"
"Certainly," said I.
Miss Eliza Higgins kept up the farce to excess; scarcely venturing
to raise her eyes from the ground, or utter a single syllable,
beyond--"yes," or "no, my lord,"--and, that in a low whisper. She did
indeed once venture to speak pathetically about her grandmamma and her
dear grandpapa. Lord Fife declared to me she was an amiable creature,
and he presumed to place a ring of some value on her finger, on which
occasion Miss Eliza Higgins appeared to be growing rather nervous. He
did not take his leave until he had obtained her permission to write to
her.
"Miss Eliza Higgins," said I, as soon as we were left alone again,
which was not till after midnight, "my good Miss Eliza Higgins, this
atmosphere, as you expected, has proved favourable to your wishes. It
has done more than your six seasons at Bath. It has, in short, brought a
noble earl to your feet. _Je vous en fait mes compliments_. We will now
if you please say adieu. Make any use you please of your conquest, and
accept my thanks for having been so truly ridiculous."
Miss Eliza bridled, muttered something about our sex's envy, and
declared that she had proposed leaving me herself.
"Agreed then," said I, extending my hand to shake hands. "I promise
never to say anything but good of you to Lord Fife; at least not till he
is quite tired of you."
Miss Eliza Higgins appeared satisfied and wished me a good night.
"You will forward any letters that may arrive from the Earl of Fife?"
said she, returning.
"Certainly,"
"Why then, I propose going to my grandmamma's to-morrow."
"_De tout mon coeur_," I replied, and we parted.