On the morning of the day fixed on for our dining at the mess-room,
Lord Worcester received a severe reprimand from Colonel Quintin for
neglecting the drill.
We sat down at least thirty at table, and I was the only lady in
company. However, as I had my station near Colonel Palmer, and was not
presented to any strangers, I enjoyed the same sort of liberty as I
might have done at any _table-d'hôte_.
I was already acquainted with the present Duc de Guiche and several
other officers. A very fine young man who had joined only a month
previous was present, and, I remember, that nobody said a single
word to him; but I have entirely forgotten his name. I inquired his
history, and was told that he was a man of good fortune but of no
family, as they denominate those who cannot boast recorded ancient
blood in their veins. However, instead of complaining to the Prince, or
calling out the colonel, he put a good face on the thing, and always
came into the mess-room whistling. He was a very fine young man and,
while he carefully avoided any appearance of making up to his proud
brother-officers, was ever ready to prove, by his politeness in handing
them salt, bread, wine or whatever happened to be near him at table,
that he was not sufficiently wounded by their cutting to be sulky with
them, neither was his appetite at all impaired by it. Of this fact
nobody in their senses could entertain the smallest doubt.
The Duke of Clarence's and poor Mrs. Jordan's eldest son, Captain
FitzClarence, I remember had a forfeit or a fine to pay, for coming to
dinner in dirty boots, or something of that kind. He was indeed voted by
the whole mess a very dirty fellow in his person, and one who evidently
conceived himself so much better than his brother officers, from being
the bastard of the Duke of Clarence. Everybody acknowledges him to be
brave; but I certainly should take him to be about as heartless as any
man need be in order to make his way in the world. He had a trick or two
which used to make the officers sick, and he ate so voraciously that he
well nigh bred a famine in the mess-room. On one occasion poor Captain
Roberts, who happened to come in later than FitzClarence, got nothing
but bubble-and-squeak in the dog-days.
Colonel Palmer scolded me very much indeed about Worcester's missing
parade of a morning. I assured him that I had done and would do all I
possibly could to make him more attentive. The colonel declared that, if
he again missed the drill, he feared Colonel Quintin would act in a way
to disgust Lord Worcester with the army altogether, and he should regret
much his going out of the regiment.
As soon as we had left the mess-room, I told Worcester that he really
must be at parade by eight o'clock to-morrow.
Worcester again promised, and again broke his word, for which he was
immediately put under arrest, and desired not to wear his sword.
"By G--, if he vas de king's son, I vould put him honder arrest,"
exclaimed Quintin.
This was reported to Lord Worcester, who said it was the most vulgar and
disgusting speech he had ever heard, adding: "What has a king's son or a
duke's son to do with the usual discipline observed towards lieutenants
in the army?"
When Colonel Palmer came to condole with Worcester, his lordship was a
good deal agitated and confused. I passed my word to the colonel, that,
if he would get Worcester's sword restored to him, I would accompany
him to drill rather than he should miss it. The next morning I actually
accomplished being up, dressed, and on my road to the barracks by
half-past eight o'clock, accompanied by Worcester.
Will Haught, who was in a terrible bustle on this occasion, asked,
"Where is Miss Wilson to wait during parade, my lord?"
"In my barrack-room," said the marquis.
"Why, my lord, there is nothing at all in it but a large trunk, and, you
see, the room has never been put square like, and I should have wished
to have got Miss Wilson a neat comfortable breakfast."
"Well, do your best," said Worcester, as we drove off.
I found Lord Worcester's barrack-room in a dismal state. However, though
it was quite impossible for Mr. Will Haught to make all square, yet he
procured absolute necessaries for my breakfasting every morning at the
barracks. It was quite as much as we could possibly do to get dressed in
time for parade; and breakfast at home was wholly out of the question.
Behold me now, regularly attending parade like a young recruit, dressed
in a blue riding habit and an embroidered jacket or spencer worn over
it, trimmed and finished after the fashion of our uniform, and a little
grey fur stable-cap with a gold band.
From the window of Worcester's barrack-room I used to amuse myself
reviewing our troops, but not after the fashion of Catharine of Russia.
Sergeant Whitaker, teaching the sword exercise, used to amuse me the
most. It began thus:
"Tik nuttiss! the wurd dror is oney a carshun. At t'wurd suards, ye
drors um hout, tekin a farm un possitif grip o'th'hilt! sem time,
throwing th'shith smartly backords thus! Dror!" Here the men, forgetful
of the caution which had just been given them, began to draw. "Steady
there! Never a finger or a high to move i'th'hed. Dror suards!"
This said Sergeant Whitaker was a highly respectable man no doubt, only
rather solemn-looking or so; but that was all the better perhaps, as it
inspired more respect among his motley pupils.
I fancy it was the sight of Worcester and me together, so Darby and
Joan-like, that first put the good soldier in mind of matrimony. He
certainly did cast many a longing glance after us, as we used to drive
out of the barrack-yard. One morning in particular, he made a full stop
when close to us, and his lips moved as though he had been about to
address us, if Worcester's haughty glance had not frightened away his
speech and made him, on second thoughts, honour us with no more favours
than a mere military salute.
"There is something on Sergeant Whitaker's mind," said I, and Worcester
laughed heartily at the idea.
We continued punctual at parade for more than a fortnight. Some of
Worcester's friends generally joined us on our way from the barracks, to
which place I frequently rode on horseback when the weather would permit.
Young Edward Fitzgerald, who is a cousin of the Duke of Leinster, on one
occasion galloped after us, and addressed Worcester: "What do you think?
there is a d----d old gallipot-fellow has been gossiping about you, and
tells everybody he meets the story of your being put under arrest, and
having your sword taken away from you for making such a fool of yourself
about Harriette."
Worcester, reddening with indignation, said, "I must take the liberty of
acquainting you, Fitzgerald, that the lady you call Harriette I consider
as my wife; and, when I assure you that you will wound and offend me
if ever you treat her with less respect than you would show to the
Marchioness of Worcester, I am sure you will desist from the familiarity
of calling her by her christian name."
Fitzgerald good-naturedly assured him he had spoken with his usual
thoughtlessness.
Worcester now inquired who had been making so free with us.
"Why that stupid old Doctor Tierney is the man," answered Fitzgerald.
Worcester said he should call on him to desire he would hold his tongue.
"And," interrupted Fitzgerald, "confine his attention to his draughts
and pills."
Worcester asked what sort of a man Tierney was, and if at all like a
gentleman.
Fitzgerald did not recollect to have seen him.
I assured them I had known him of old, and that he attended me when I
lived on the Marine Parade. He was a pedantic, disagreeable, affected
fool, who visited his patients in leather breeches and topped boots. He
had formerly made sentimental love to my sister Amy when she came over
from France. She passed herself off on the amorous doctor, _comme une
grande vertu_, on purpose to laugh at him. As to his vulgar wife, she
was ugly and unattractive enough to disgust a man with the whole fair
sex, since such unfair things formed part of it.
Lord Worcester, on that very day I think, accompanied by the Duc de
Guiche--but I am not certain whether it was His Grace or another officer
of the Tenth--paid his visit of ceremony to Doctor Tierney. I cannot
repeat the conversation which passed, but I know the substance of it was
that Worcester requested that he would not make his actions the subject
of conversation, but mind his own business, supposing he had any to
mind; and, if not, he had better advertise for it, instead of publishing
anecdotes of persons with whom he was not likely to have the slightest
acquaintance.
The doctor, as Worcester and his friend both assured me, duly apologised
for having indulged himself in using the name of a marquis, in common
with thousands of low-minded people who always love to talk of the
great, and promised to do so no more.
Some time after this I received a long letter from my sister Fanny,
to acquaint me with the absence of Colonel Palmer from Portsmouth on
particular business, and of her intention of passing a month with me at
Brighton: it being nearly five weeks since she had become the mother of
a lovely little girl, and her physician having recommended the bracing
air of Brighton for the recovery of her strength.
This was delightful news to me, and put me in high spirits as well as
Julia, who loved Fanny better than ever she had before imagined it
possible to love one of her own sex. Worcester also looked forward to
Fanny's proposed visit with much satisfaction, as he had always, he
assured me, felt the affection of a brother towards her.
Fanny's arrival was a holiday for us all. Lord Berwick hoped much from
her extreme good-nature and obliging disposition. Sophia, between Julia,
Fanny and myself, was the more certain of not being left _tête-à-tête_
with her night-mare, Lord Berwick, and Julia, whose very friendship
partook of passion, shed tears of joy when she pressed her friend to her
heart. My affection was calm, for it was fixed, and shall be eternal, if
eternity is to be mine, with memory of the past.
Fanny declared we should all become good horsewomen before she left
Brighton. She was herself a most beautiful rider. Accordingly, the
morning after her arrival beheld a cavalcade about to start from my
door in Rock-gardens: it consisted of Lords Berwick and Worcester, Mr.
Fitzgerald, two young dragoons, whose names I have forgotten, Julia,
Fanny, Sophia and me. Lord Berwick was too nervous to trust himself on
horseback, except on very great and particular occasions. I found much
amusement in tickling up my mare a little, as I rode it close to his
horse in order to put a little mettle into them both. It was rather
wicked; his lordship declared he was not frightened for himself, but
only for Sophia.
Lord Worcester took the opportunity to give Sophia a few instructions
about holding her whip and bridle. Suddenly, when we were at least
five miles from Brighton Sophia quietly walked her horse towards home,
leaving us to proceed without her.
"What can be the matter with Sophia?" we all inquired at once.
Fitzgerald feared he had said something to offend her.
Lord Worcester and Fanny galloped after her, to ascertain what was the
matter, and how she expected to find her way home alone.
"Oh nothing is the matter," said Sophia, very innocently, "nothing
whatever is the matter, only he will go this way," alluding to her horse.
Lord Worcester's natural politeness was not proof against this, and he
laughed loudly, as he led Sophia's horse towards the rest.
The whole party dined at my house, and Lord Worcester did the honours of
the table with infinite grace.
When the ladies withdrew from the room they had a thousand questions to
ask each other. Fanny took upon her to say to Sophia, that she conceived
she was treating Lord Berwick very ill in accepting so much from him,
unless she meant to live with him.
Sophia began to cry and I to laugh. Julia showed us some very romantic
love-letters from Napier, whom she shortly proposed joining in
Leicestershire.
Sophia, at Fanny's persuasion, now began to waver.
"Come," said Fanny, "what does it signify to you, whether your lover is
old or young, handsome or ugly, provided he gives you plenty of fine
things; since you know you are the coldest girl in all England?"
The gentlemen soon after came upstairs, and before the evening was over
his lordship was led to hope, from what Sophia said, that, if he were to
furnish an elegant house, she might probably be induced to inhabit it
with his lordship sooner or later.
Some few days after this important business was decided, and Lord
Berwick had written to his agent in town to engage a comfortable
residence in some airy situation, as Lord Worcester and I were returning
home from our ride, we met the brave Sergeant Whitaker, who this time
was not to be brow-beaten from his purpose by Worcester's proud salute.
"My lord," said he, coming up close to Lord Worcester's horse, and
touching his cap, "my lord, if you please, I wants to be married."
"What the devil is that to me?" Worcester observed.
"Well, my lord," continued the sergeant, looking sheepish, "you see, if
you would just mention it to Colonel Quintin?"
"Very well," said Worcester, "provided it is my business, which is what
I confess I was not aware of."
"Yes, my lord, it is your business I assure you, or I should not have
gone for to take this here liberty."
"That is enough," said Worcester, and we rode on.
The Duc de Guiche and Fitzgerald joined us, and, while we were
conversing together, the young cornet galloped past us: I allude to
the one who had been universally cut ever since he joined, merely, I
believe, because no one knew him, and all were certain that his birth
was rather mechanical. The young man rode a very fine horse and appeared
to manage him with tact and spirit. I think his name was Eversfield, or
something a good deal like it.
"What a beautiful horse that lad is riding!" said the Duc de Guiche; "I
wish I knew whether he would like to sell it and what he would ask for
it?"
"I have a great mind to gallop after him, and inquire," observed young
Fitzgerald.
"Pray do not," said Lord Worcester, "as he will certainly be offended.
It will indeed be much too cool a thing to do to a stranger to whom none
of us have yet spoken."
"Oh, never mind," said young Fitzgerald, "he is a good-natured fellow I
dare say. I spoke to him yesterday to inquire who made his tilbury:"
and off he galloped after Mr. Eversfield, who, in less than a fortnight
from this time, became on excellent terms with them all: which proves
that, with perfect evenness of temper and good-nature combined, a man of
high independent spirit cannot fail to gain the goodwill of everybody
around him.
In about a month or six weeks Lord Berwick had fitted up a very nice,
comfortable house for Sophia in Montagu Square, and Sophia, after
obtaining his lordship's promise that she should sleep alone, at least
for the first week or two, accompanied his lordship to London.
A few days of their departure, Worcester was again addressed by the
amorous sergeant: "My lord, respecting my little private affair. I
should be much obliged to your lordship if you would be so good as for
to take it in hand."
"Certainly," said Worcester, galloping off, to avoid laughing out loud
in the man's face.
Meeting Colonel Quintin on our way home Worcester, to get the sergeant's
little affair off his mind, rode up to him, and, after saluting him, he,
in some confusion, mentioned that Sergeant Whitaker wanted to be married
very bad, provided the colonel should not object to it.
"You moste inquire de caracter of de yong voman," said Quintin,
shrugging up his shoulders.
"I, sir!" exclaimed Lord Worcester, in evident surprise, which proved
his ignorance of military duties.
"Yes, my lord," continued Quintin, "I sall troble yow to make de moste
strict inquiry about de yong voman; and partiguler, vor her morals."
Worcester bowed, and rode towards home.
It is impossible to do justice to all the delicate attentions I received
from Lord Worcester during nearly three years. They never relaxed; but
continued to the hour of our parting exactly as they had begun. One day,
when I was obliged to have a back double-tooth drawn, he turned as pale
as death, being absolutely sick with fright: and long afterwards he
always wore the tooth round his neck. If for only ten minutes he lost
sight of me, by my walking or riding on a little faster than himself, he
was in such agonies, that, as I returned, I was addressed continually by
private soldiers of the Tenth, who assured me my lord was running after
me all over the country in much alarm; and, when at last he overtook
me, his heart was beating in such evident alarm, as was, even to me who
had been tolerably romantic in my time, almost incredible! He flatly
refused every invitation he received, either to dinner-parties, balls
or routs, and for more than six months he had not once dined away from
me. His uncle, Lord Charles Somerset, who, I believe then commanded the
district, was growing very angry, and threatened to inform his brother
the Duke of Beaufort, as he feared we were really married. It was, as
Lord Charles said, ridiculous, in a man of Worcester's high rank, to
seclude himself quite like a hermit. "At all events," continued the
worthy uncle, "I hope you will not fail to be here on my birthday next
week." Lord Worcester promised to make an effort for the birthday, while
he frankly told Lord Charles that he should be always miserable in any
society without me.
When Worcester returned home and related the conversation to me, I
begged and entreated him to comply with his uncle's desires, as to his
birthday at least.
"My dearest Harriette," said Worcester, "having bound myself to you for
my life, for better or worse, and with my eyes open, I feel that we two
make but one in our faults, and I hate to go to any place where you may
not accompany me."
I assured him that I had no desire to be invited; because I had no
longer health to enjoy society; and, in short, I would not rest till I
had obtained his promise that he would attend his uncle's engagement.
When the day arrived, Worcester said he could not endure my dining
alone with that stiff Will Haught, who would not know how to serve me
with what I liked, standing behind my chair.
"Well, then you shall give me my dinner first," I replied.
For this purpose I dined earlier than usual. As soon as I had finished
my dinner I gave him a gentle hint.
"You have no time to lose. Your pretty new yellow boots, with the rest
of your magnificent full-dress regimentals, Will Haught has spread
out to great advantage in your dressing-room, _et vous serez tout
rayonnant!_"
"And why am I to be dressed up there, while the person for whom alone I
exist, or wish to live an hour, is left in solitude? Why am I to be a
slave to Charles Somerset? I will not go, let the consequence be what it
may," said Worcester.
Worcester's carriage now drove up to the door.
"My lord, you have not a minute to lose," eagerly spoke Will Haught.
"Put up the carriage, and bring me some cold beef," answered his
lordship.
"What will you say to your uncle?" I asked.
"He be hanged!" was the reply.
At past ten o'clock Lord Charles sent down a groom on horseback to
inquire for Worcester, and state that the ladies waited for him to take
his part in the quadrilles, which he had studied for that night.
Worcester ran up into his bedroom, and called out from the window, after
putting on his night-cap, that he was ill, and in bed, and desired he
might not again be disturbed at so late an hour.
It would be tedious to attempt relating all, or even one twentieth part,
of the tender proofs of love and affection which Worcester was in the
daily, I may say hourly, habit of evincing towards me. His lordship has
often watched my sleep in the cold, for half, nay sometimes, during the
whole of the night, sitting by my bedside. On an occasion when I was
induced to consult a medical man about a trifling indisposition, which
was not in the least alarming, Lord Worcester wrote the doctor a most
romantic letter, enclosing a fifty-pound note, and declaring that his
obligation to him would be eternal if he could contrive to be of the
slightest use to me. He would send fur shoes and fur cloaks after me
in hot dry weather; because one could never be certain that it would
not rain before my return. He took upon him all the care of the house,
ordering dinner, &c., from having once happened to hear me say that I
did not like to know beforehand what I was to eat.
When the Prince Regent, who then commanded the regiment, came down to
the Pavilion Worcester was in despair; for he saw no possible means to
avoid visiting His Royal Highness. The dinner, which was given expressly
for the officers of the Tenth Hussars, he was obliged to attend. On that
occasion, which was the first of his passing an evening from home, after
giving me my dinner he sighed over me when he took leave, as though it
had been to go to the Antipodes.
Lord Worcester's rapture on his return knew no bounds. "My dear
Harriette," said his lordship, "the Prince's band at the Pavillion was
so very beautiful, that it would have been impossible for me, who love
music to excess, not to have enjoyed it; therefore, as I abhor the idea
of enjoying anything on earth of which you cannot partake with me, I
went into a corner, where I was not observed, to stop my ears and think
only of you. I must now tell you that the Prince has given me a general
invitation to go to him every evening, and I have settled my plan, to
avoid it. I intend to sham lame, and practise it at home till I can
limp very decently and naturally, and then I will wait upon His Royal
Highness and tell him that I have a sprain which keeps me in constant
pain, and confines me to the house."
Worcester began to practise on the spot, and being in all things a most
excellent mimic, particularly when he took off Lord Charles Somerset, or
his lordship's brother, whom he always called Cherry-ripe John; why, I
know not, for the man is as pale as a ghost.
On the following day, Worcester limped famously, although he had nearly
betrayed himself by finding the proper use of his legs from very
_ennui_, when he was, for the third time, addressed by Sergeant Whitaker
on the Steyne "respecting of his private consarn."
"How am I to inquire the character of your sweetheart, for God's sake?"
Worcester asked the sergeant, with much ill-humour.
"Why, my lord," answered the man, "you will please to inquire of Dr.
Tierney, as she has been living in his family, as cook, my lord."
Lord Worcester immediately paid a visit to the doctor, from whom he
learned that the young woman was clean, honest and trustworthy.
"Sir," said Lord Worcester, as soon as he could find Colonel Quintin, "I
have inquired the character of the young woman, and she is very good,
sir."
"Good! for what, pray?" asked the colonel, forgetting all about Sergeant
Whitaker's little private consarn.
"Oh, sir," continued Worcester, almost ready to laugh, yet, in some
confusion, "she is good, sir, I believe, for everything; at least Doctor
Tierney says she is a very steady, clean woman."
"And vat sal I do vid dis clean voman vat you talk to me about?" asked
the colonel impatiently.
"Oh, sir, you are not to do anything with her; only you desired me to
inquire the character of the young woman Sergeant Whitaker wishes to
marry."
"Ah true--reight--vel--veri vel, I have no objecshuns; only tell him he
is von grate fool to his pains."
Away galloped Worcester quite delighted to get rid of the sergeant's
"little private consarn."
"My lord, I wants very bad to be married," said Sergeant Whitaker once
more, a few days after Worcester had obtained the colonel's permission.
"Colonel Quintin has no objection," answered Worcester, and the
sergeant respectfully begged leave to return his lordship ten thousand
thanks.
"But the colonel says you are a great fool, for your pains," added
Worcester.
"That is no odds, my lord," replied Whitaker, as he saluted Lord
Worcester, and then hastened back to his fair one, in order to acquaint
her that his little private affair was arranged, and just as it should
be.
* * * * *
_On s'ennui de tout!_ In the course of time, I grew tired of this
_tête-à-tête_, particularly as Worcester showed symptoms of sulky
displeasure, whenever any of the officers wanted to join us in our
rides. On two occasions he was furious! Once was when Colonel Palmer
kindly assisted me off my horse; another, when he learned that I had
sent a little note to that gentleman about borrowing a book, or some
such trifle. Finding that this circumstance weighed on his mind, in
spite of all I could say or do, I despatched a second note to this
effect:
"DEAR COLONEL PALMER,--I believe you have a real friendship
for Worcester, who has taken it into his wise head to make himself
perfectly miserable about the forlorn note I wrote to you. Candour
I conceive to be the best cure for jealousy; so do pray come to us
this evening and show Worcester my two notes.
"Yours, dear sir, very truly,
"H.W."
Down came Colonel Palmer, trotting on a little ugly pony, his laced
jacket covered with an old, short, brown great coat, and a shabby round
hat, while the rain was dripping down his face.
"My dear fellow," said the colonel, "I would not for worlds spoil your
comfort. I have loved myself, and know what jealousy is. I shall be
wretched, if----"
And he bustled about to search for my notes, while his nose was so red,
and the worthy man looked altogether so consolingly ugly, so like a
disguised second-rate harlequin, with the silver lace occasionally
glittering, as one caught a glimpse of it under his little, old brown
coat, and then such a thing on his head doing duty for a hat!
Worcester burst out a-laughing, in the midst of the colonel's most
energetic defence.
"I beg your pardon, Colonel Palmer, upon my honour, I do; but you really
look so very eager, and so very odd and serious, in that little, tight,
old coat and hat, that for the life of me I cannot help laughing."
Palmer, however, continued as energetic as ever, till he had received
Worcester's assurance upon his honour and soul that he was quite
satisfied.
"Then do come and ride with us, Colonel Palmer, to-morrow," said I,
"since Worcester is satisfied that you have no designs against his
happiness; for, really, we have had such a long _tête-à-tête_ we have
not a word more to say to each other."
Worcester still declared that his confidence in us both had never
been shaken, only he was melancholy to think I grew tired of our
_tête-à-têtes_ while, for his part, he never desired nor conceived any
more perfect happiness than passing every hour in the day alone with me.
In spite of my gratitude, which he yet believed in, because I proved it
not only in words but by all my actions, yet I did want a little varied
society, that I might not fall into a lethargy; so when Fanny went to
join Colonel Parker in town, I begged hard for, and at last obtained, a
week's permission of absence, from one who could refuse me nothing.
"You shall go at all events, and I know I can confide in your honour,"
said Lord Worcester; "but I will not despair of obtaining leave from the
colonel to accompany you."
The better to effect his purpose he went to Quintin with a box of cigars
under his arm. Quintin accepted the cigars with perfect good-will; but,
in answer to his lordship's next request, for leave to pass a week in
town, the answer was,--
"No! no! my lord, you must drill."
Worcester had a great mind to have asked him to return the cigars.
Nevertheless, he kept his promise of permitting me to accompany my
sister Fanny to London.
We found Sophia established in a nice house in Montagu Square, which
Lord Berwick, or rather his upholsterer, had furnished with much taste.
_Nous lui demandâmes si elle faisait, encore, lit à part?_
_Elle répondit que non._
"And what sort of a man is Lord Berwick?"
"Oh, he is a very violent man indeed."
Sophia insisted on Fanny remaining her visitor for a week, which
invitation, as Parker had no fixed residence in town, she gladly
accepted. Sophia had at her command a very handsome equipage, in which
we all three drove out on the day after my arrival.
We called on sister Paragon, whom we found greatly agitated.
"What is the matter?" we both asked at once.
"Oh," said Paragon, "do you hear the screams of that infant?"
"Yes, how shocking! It is not one of yours, however," said I, as I
counted her pretty little family, who, as usual, were all seated close
to her side.
"They proceed from my landlady's child, whose mother insists I have half
killed it, and that it never was in such pain before. In short, she
declares she apprehends a convulsion fit."
"Why, what can you have done to the poor child?" Fanny inquired.
"I merely administered one of Inglish's excellent aperient Scott's pills
to the dear infant," Paragon replied, calmly.
"That perfectly accounts for all these cries," Fanny observed, and
further declared that she had herself been put in perfect torture by
the only one she had ever swallowed.
"Do you presume to judge of Inglish's Aperient, who have swallowed but
one?" said Paragon, with dignified contempt; "why, it requires at least
fifty boxes of it to pass downwards before you can properly decide on
the merits of this invaluable medicine! In the meantime, the bowels must
be severely pinched into obedience. Everything depends on the force
of habit. Now there is my little Mary for instance; the dear little
child has become so accustomed to a pain in her bowels that, if by any
accident I put her to bed without a Scotchman, she always awakes in low
spirits."
"Nevertheless, you must excuse my ever swallowing another to the end of
my natural life," said Fanny.
Paragon advised her to make her will, assuring her her that she would
answer for the life of no person who had not learned by habit to digest
a Scotchman. "Read what King Charles said of them," continued Paragon;
but Fanny declared that not even King George himself, with the opinions
of all the Spartans and philosophers to boot, should make her believe
that pain was no evil, however people might be accustomed to it.
From Paragon's we drove to Julia's. She told us that she had made Lord
Berwick pay her down several hundred pounds in ready money, for having
interceded with Sophia and persuaded her to live with him.
"Well," said I, sighing, "you have a large family, and, I suppose, it is
what we must all come to. However, I conceive myself, as yet, rather too
young to take up this new profession of yours, Julia."
Julia defended her conduct, by assuring me she had not taken it up but
for my sister's real interest: as a proof of which she declared that she
had strong reason to believe it was Lord Berwick's intention to marry
Sophia.
Sophia said she would not have him.
"And why, pray?" we asked.
"Because" said Sophia, "because--I think it will be very shocking to
swear never to love but one man."
We all dined in Montagu Square. Lord Berwick appeared to be perfectly
happy, although he scarcely ever opened his lips; but the little he did
say was chiefly on the subject of cuckolds and cuckolding. He wondered
how many men had been cuckolded that season in London without knowing it.
I assured him I neither knew nor cared.
"What has become of Lord Deerhurst's valuable jewels?" said I to Sophia,
by way of changing the conversation.
"Oh, dear me, I entirely forgot my jewels."
Lord Berwick earnestly entreated to have a sight of them, and was
greatly amused at the charming proof of simplicity his beloved had
evinced, in mistaking such leaden trumpery for valuable trinkets. Sophia
begged to be allowed to return them to Lord Deerhurst with a polite
note, and Lord Berwick having presented her with writing materials she
wrote as follows:
"Sophia presents her compliments to Viscount Deerhurst. Has
the honour of returning him his valuable jewels with due thanks,
and all the gratitude that he has a right to expect from her.
"_Montagu Square._"
The jewels and letter were sealed up, and despatched to the noble
viscount on that very evening.
After dinner, his lordship's discourse turned on marriage: the pith,
meaning, and spirit of which was to show cause why Sophia ought to
become Lady Berwick. He could never rest till he had made the excellent,
deserving Sophia his lawful wife.
Sophia again declared she would not have him: but before I left the
house she was graciously pleased to say that she would give the subject
due consideration.
"This house is so beautifully fitted up, even to the very attics, that
it would be quite a pity to leave it," said Fanny.
"It cannot be helped," replied Lord Berwick, "we must sell it; for, of
course, Lady Berwick must inhabit my family-house in Grosvenor-square."