The evening appointed for Mrs. Falconer’s ball at length arrived; and
all the neighbouring gentry assembled at Falconer-court. They were
received by Mrs. Falconer in a splendid saloon, newly furnished for this
occasion, which displayed in its decorations the utmost perfection of
modern taste and magnificence.
Mrs. Falconer was fitted, both by art and nature, to adorn a ball-room,
and conduct a ball. With that ease of manner which a perfect knowledge
of the world and long practice alone can give, she floated round the
circle, conscious that she was in her element. Her eye, with one glance,
seemed to pervade the whole assembly; her ear divided itself amongst
a multitude of voices; and her attention diffused itself over all with
equal grace. Yet that attention, universal as it seemed, was nicely
discriminative. Mistress of the art of pleasing, and perfectly
acquainted with all the shades of politeness, she knew how to dispose
them so as to conceal their boundaries, and even their gradation, from
all but the most skilful observers. They might, indeed, have formed,
from Mrs. Falconer’s reception of each of her guests, an exact estimate
of their rank, fashion, and consequence in the world; for by these
standards she regulated her opinion, and measured her regard. Every one
present knew this to be her theory, and observed it to be her practice
towards others; but each flattered themselves by turns that they
discovered in her manner a personal exception in their own favour. In
the turn of her countenance, the tone of her voice, her smile or her
anxiety, in her distant respect or her affectionate familiarity, some
distinction was discerned peculiar to each individual.
The Miss Falconers, stationary at one end of the room, seemed to
have adopted manners diametrically opposite to those of their mother:
attraction being the principle of the mother, repulsion of the
daughters. Encircled amongst a party of young female friends, Miss
Falconers, with high-bred airs, confined to their own _coterie_ their
exclusive attention.
They left to their mother the responsibility and all the labour of
_doing the honours_ of her own house, whilst they enjoyed the glory of
being remarked and _wondered at_ by half the company; a circumstance
which, far from embarrassing, seemed obviously to increase their gaiety.
The ball could not begin till the band of a regiment, quartered in the
neighbourhood, arrived. Whilst they were waiting for the music, the Miss
Falconers and their party stationed themselves directly opposite to the
entrance of the saloon, so as to have a full view of the antechamber
through which the company were to pass--no one passed uncensured by this
confederacy. The first coup-d’oeil decided the fate of all who appeared,
and each of the fair judges vied with the others in the severity of
the sentence pronounced on the unfortunate persons who thus came before
their merciless tribunal.
“But I am astonished the Percys do not make their appearance,” cried
Miss Georgiana Falconer.
“Has Sir Robert Percy any one with him?” asked one of the young ladies.
“I am not speaking of Sir Robert Percy,” replied Miss Georgiana, “but
of the other branch, the fallen branch of the Percys--our relations
too--but we know nothing of them--only mamma was obliged to ask them for
to-night--And, Bell, only conceive how horribly provoking! because they
come, we sha’n’t have Sir Robert Percy--just sent to excuse himself.”
“Abominable! Now, really!--And for people quite out of the world, that
nobody ever heard of, except Lord Oldborough, who, ages ago, had some
political connexion, I think they say, with the father,” said Miss
Arabella.
“No, they met abroad, or something of that sort,” replied Miss
Georgiana.
“Was that it? Very likely--I know nothing about them: I only wish they
had stayed at home, where they are so fond of staying, I hear. You know,
Georgiana, Buckhurst told us, that when they had something to live upon
they never lived like other people, but always were buried alive in the
country; and Lady Jane Granville, with her own lips, told me, that, even
since they lost their fortune, she had asked one of these girls to
town with her and to Tunbridge--Now only conceive how kind! and what an
advantage that would have been--And, can you believe it? Mr. Percy was
so unaccountable, and they all so odd, that they refused--Lady Jane,
of course, will never ask them again. But now, must not they be the
silliest creatures in the universe?”
“Silly! Oh! dear, no: there you are wrong, Bell; for you know they are
all so wise, and so learned, so blue, such a deep blue, and all that
sort of thing, that, for my part, I shall never dare to open my lips
before them.”
“Fortunately,” said one of the young ladies, “you have not much to fear
from their learning at a ball; and as dancers I don’t apprehend you have
much to dread from any of them, even from _the beauty_.”
“Why, scarcely,” said Miss Georgiana; “I own I shall be curious to see
how they will _get on--‘comment ces savantes se tireront d’affaire_.’
I wonder they are not here. Keep your eye on the door, dear Lady
Frances--I would not miss their entrée for millions.”
In vain eyes and glasses were fixed in expectation of the arrival of
these devoted objects of ridicule--another, and another, and another
came, but not the Percys.
The band was now ready, and began to play--Count Altenberg entered
the room. Quick as grace can venture to move, Mrs. Falconer glided to
receive him. Miss Georgiana Falconer, at the same moment, composed her
features into their most becoming position, and gave herself a fine air
of the head. The Count bowed to her--she fanned herself, and her eye
involuntarily glanced, first at a brilliant star he wore, and then at
her mother, whilst, with no small degree of anxiety, she prepared to
play off, on this decisive evening, all her artillery, to complete her
conquest--to complete her victory, for she flattered herself that only
the finishing blow was wanting. In this belief her female companions
contributed to confirm her, though probably they were all the time
laughing at her vanity.
Mrs. Falconer requested Count Altenberg to open the ball with Lady
Frances Arlington. After having obeyed her orders, he next led out Miss
Georgiana Falconer, evidently to her satisfaction; the more so, as she
was conscious of being, at that moment, the envy of at least half the
company.
Count Altenberg, quite unconscious of being himself the object of any
attention, seemed to think only of showing his partner to advantage; if
he danced well, it appeared to be only because he habitually moved with
ease and dignity, and that whatever he did he looked like a gentleman.
His fair partner danced admirably, and now surpassed herself.
It was repeated to Mrs. Falconer, that Colonel Bremen, the Count’s
friend, had told some one that the Count had declared he had never
seen any thing equal to Miss Georgiana Falconer, except at the opera at
Paris. At this triumphant moment Miss Georgiana could have seen, with
security and complacency, the arrival of Miss Caroline Percy. The more
prudent mother, however, was well satisfied with her absence. Every
thing conspired to Mrs. Falconer’s satisfaction. The ball was far
advanced, and no Percys appeared. Mrs. Falconer wondered, and deplored,
and at length it came near the hour when supper was ordered--the
commissioner inquired whether Mrs. Falconer was certain that she had
named the right day on the card?
“Oh! certain--But it is now so late, I am clear they will not be here
to-night.”
“Very extraordinary, to keep Lord Oldborough’s carriage and servants!”
said the commissioner: “they went in time, I am sure, for I saw them set
out.”
“All I know is, that we have done every thing that is proper,” said
Mrs. Falconer, “and Lord Oldborough cannot blame us--as to the Count, he
seems quite _content_.”
Mrs. Falconer’s accent seemed to imply something more than _content_;
but this was not a proper time or place to contest the point. The
husband passed on, saying to himself “Absurd!” The wife went on, saying
“Obstinate!”
Count Altenberg had led his partner to a seat, and as soon as he quitted
her, the young ladies of her party all flattered her, in congratulatory
whispers: one observed that there was certainly something very
particular in Count Altenberg’s manner, when he first spoke to Miss
Georgiana Falconer; another remarked that he always spoke to Miss
Georgiana Falconer with emotion and embarrassment; a third declared that
her eye was fixed upon the Count, and she saw him several times change
colour--all, in short, agreed that the Count’s heart was Miss Georgiana
Falconer’s devoted prize. She the while, with well-affected incredulity
and secret complacency, half repressed and half encouraged these remarks
by frequent exclamations of “La! how can you think so!--Why will you say
such things!--Dear! how can you be so tormenting--so silly, now, to have
such fancies!--But did he really change colour?”--In love with her! She
wondered how such an idea could ever come into their heads--she should,
for her part, never have dreamed of such a thing--indeed, she was
positive they were mistaken. Count Altenberg in love with her!--Oh, no,
there could be nothing in it.
Whilst she spoke, her eyes followed the Count, who, quite unconscious of
his danger, undisturbed by any idea of Miss Georgiana Falconer and
love, two ideas which probably never had entered his mind together, was
carelessly walking down the room, his thoughts apparently occupied
with the passing scene. He had so much the habit of observing men
and manners, without appearing to observe them, that, under an air
of gaiety, he carried his understanding, as it were, incognito. His
observation glanced on all the company as he passed. Miss Georgiana
Falconer lost sight of him as he reached the end of the saloon; he
disappeared in the antechamber.
Soon afterwards a report reached her that the Percy family were arrived;
that Count Altenberg had been particularly struck by the sight of one of
the Miss Percys, and had been overheard to whisper to his friend
Colonel Bremen, “Very like the picture! but still more _mind_ in the
countenance!”
At hearing this, Miss Georgiana Falconer grew first red and then turned
pale; Mrs. Falconer, though scarcely less confounded, never changed
a muscle of her face, but leaving every body to choose their various
comments upon the Count’s words, and simply saying, “Are the Percys come
at last?” she won her easy way through the crowd, whispering to
young Petcalf as she passed, “Now is your time, Petcalf, my good
creature--Georgiana is disengaged.”
Before Mrs. Falconer got to the antechamber, another report met her,
“that the Percys had been overturned, and had been terribly hurt.”
“Overturned!--terribly hurt!--Good Heavens!” cried Mrs. Falconer, as she
entered the antechamber. But the next person told her they were not
in the least hurt--still pressing forward, she exclaimed, “Mrs. Percy!
Where is Mrs. Percy? My dear madam! what has happened? Come the wrong
road, did you?--broken bridge--And were you really overturned?”
“No, no, only obliged to get out and walk a little way.”
“Oh! I am sorry--But I am so glad to see you all safe!--When it grew
late, I grew so uneasy!” Then turning towards Caroline, “Miss Caroline
Percy, I am sure, though I had never, till now, the pleasure of seeing
her.”
An introduction of Caroline by Mrs. Percy, in due form, took place. Mrs.
Falconer next recognized Mr. Percy, declared he did not look a day older
than when she had seen him fifteen years before--then recurring to the
ladies, “But, my dear Mrs. Percy, are you sure that your shoes are not
wet through?--Oh! my dear madam, Miss Percy’s are terribly wet! and
Miss Caroline’s!--Positively, the young ladies must go to my
dressing-room--the shoes must be dried.” Mrs. Falconer said that perhaps
her daughters could accommodate the Miss Percys with others.
It was in vain that Rosamond protested her shoes were not wet, and that
her sister’s were perfectly dry; a few specks on their white justified
Mrs. Falconer’s apprehensions.
“Where is my Arabella? If there was any body I could venture to
trouble--”
Count Altenberg instantly offered his services. “Impossible to trouble
you, Count! But since you are so very good, perhaps you could find
one of my daughters for me--Miss Falconer--if you are so kind,
sir--Georgiana I am afraid is dancing.”
Miss Falconer was found, and despatched with the Miss Percys, in spite
of all they could say to the contrary, to Mrs. Falconer’s dressing-room.
Rosamond was permitted, without much difficulty, to do as she pleased;
but Mrs. Falconer’s infinite fears lest Caroline should catch her death
of cold could not be appeased, till she had submitted to change her
shoes.
“Caroline!” said Rosamond, in a low voice, “Caroline! do not put on
those shoes--they are too large--you will never be able to dance in
them.”
“I know that--but I am content. It is better to yield than to debate the
point any longer,” said Caroline.
When they returned to the ball-room, Count Altenberg was in earnest
conversation with Mr. Percy; but Mrs. Falconer observed that the Count
saw Miss Caroline Percy the moment she re-appeared.
“Now is not it extraordinary,” thought she, “when Georgiana dances so
well! is infinitely more fashionable, and so charmingly dressed!--What
can strike him so much in this girl’s appearance?”
It was not her appearance that struck him. He was too well accustomed to
see beauty and fashion in public places to be caught at first sight by a
handsome face, or by a young lady’s exhibition of her personal graces at
a ball; but a favourable impression had been made on his mind by what he
had previously heard of Miss Caroline Percy’s conduct and character: her
appearance confirmed this impression precisely, because she had not the
practised air of a professed beauty, because she did not seem in the
least to be thinking of herself, or to expect admiration. This was
really uncommon, and, therefore, it fixed the attention of a man like
Count Altenberg. He asked Caroline to dance; she declined dancing.
Mr. Temple engaged Rosamond, and the moment he led her away, the Count
availed himself of her place, and a conversation commenced, which soon
made Mrs. Falconer regret that Caroline had declined dancing. Though the
Count was a stranger to the Percy family, yet there were many subjects
of common interest of which he knew how to avail himself. He began by
speaking of Mr. Alfred Percy, of the pleasure he had had in becoming
acquainted with him, of the circumstance which led to this acquaintance:
then he passed, to Lord Oldborough--to M. de Tourville--to the
shipwreck. He paused at Percy-hall, for he felt for those to whom he was
speaking. They understood him, but they did not avoid the subject;
he then indulged himself in the pleasure of repeating some of the
expressions of attachment to their old landlord, and of honest affection
and gratitude, which he had heard from the peasants in the village.
Mrs. Falconer moved away the moment she foresaw this part of the
conversation, but she was only so far removed as to prevent the
necessity of her taking any part in it, or of appearing to hear what
it might be awkward for her to hear, considering her intimacy with Sir
Robert Percy. She began talking to an old lady about her late illness,
of which she longed to hear from her own lips all the particulars; and
whilst the old lady told her case, Mrs. Falconer, with eyes fixed upon
her, and making, at proper intervals, all the appropriate changes
of countenance requisite to express tender sympathy, alarm, horror,
astonishment, and joyful congratulation, contrived, at the same time,
through the whole progress of fever, and the administration of half the
medicines in the London Pharmacopoeia, to hear every thing that was said
by Count Altenberg, and not to lose a word that was uttered by Caroline.
Mrs. Falconer was particularly anxious to know what would be said about
the picture in the gallery at Percy-hall, with which the Count had been
so much charmed. When he got into the gallery, Mrs. Falconer listened
with breathless eagerness, yet still smiling on the old lady’s
never-ending history of her convalescence, and of a shawl undoubtedly
Turkish, with the true, inestimable, inimitable, little border.
Not a word was said of the picture--but a pause implied more to alarm
Mrs. Falconer than could have been expressed by the most flattering
compliment.
Mrs. Falconer wondered why supper was so late. She sent to order that it
might be served as soon as possible; but her man, or her gentleman cook,
was not a person to be hurried. Three successive messengers were sent in
vain. He knew his importance, and preserved his dignity. The caramel
was not ready, and nothing could make him dispense with its proper
appearance.
How much depended on this caramel! How much, of which the cook never
dreamed! How much Mrs. Falconer suffered during this half hour, and
suffered with a smiling countenance! How much, with a scowling brow,
Miss Georgiana Falconer made poor Petcalf endure!
Every thing conspired to discomfit Mrs. Falconer. She saw the manner
in which all the principal gentry in the country, one after another,
expressed satisfaction at meeting the Percy family. She saw the regard
and respect with which they were addressed, notwithstanding their loss
of fortune and station. It was quite astonishing to Mrs. Falconer.
Every body in the rooms, except her own set of town friends, seemed
_so strangely_ interested about this family. “How provoking that I was
obliged to ask them here!--And Count Altenberg sees and hears all this!”
Yes--all this confirmed, by the testimony of their equals in rank,
the favourable ideas he had first received of the Percys from their
inferiors and dependants. Every person who spoke to or of Caroline--and
he heard many speak of her who had known her from childhood--showed
affection in their countenance and manner.
At length, supper was announced, and Mrs. Falconer requested Count
Altenberg would take Lady Frances Arlington into the supper-room. Miss
Georgiana Falconer was anxious to sit as near as possible to her dear
Lady Frances, and this was happily accomplished.
The Count was more than usually agreeable; but whether this arose from
his desire to please the ladies who sat beside him, or those who sat
opposite to him, those to whom he was in politeness bound to address his
conversation, or those whose attention he might hope it would attract,
were questions of difficult solution.
As they were returning into the ball-room, Rosamond watched her
opportunity, made her way along a passage which led to Mrs. Falconer’s
dressing-room, seized her sister’s shoes, returned with the prize before
Caroline reached the antechamber, and, unseen by all, made her put them
on--“Now promise me not to refuse to dance, if you are asked again.”
Count Altenberg engaged Miss Georgiana Falconer the first two
dances--when these were finished, he asked Caroline to dance, and Mrs.
Falconer, who dreaded the renewal of conversation between them, and
who knew nothing of Rosamond’s counter-manoeuvre about the shoes, was
surprised and rejoiced when she saw Caroline comply, and suffer herself
to be led out by Count Altenberg. But Miss Georgiana, who had
observed that Rosamond danced well, had fears--the mother’s hopes were
disappointed, the daughter’s fears were justified. Caroline showed all
the capability of dancing without being a dancer, and it certainly
did not escape the Count’s observation that she possessed what is most
desirable in female accomplishments, the power to excel without the wish
to display. Immediately after she had finished these dances, the favour
of her hand was solicited by a certain Colonel Spandrill. Colonel
Spandrill, celebrated for his fashionable address and personal
accomplishments, had been the hoped-for partner of many rival ladies,
and his choice excited no small degree of emotion. However, it was
settled that he only danced with Miss Percy because Mrs. Falconer had
made it her particular request. One of these ladies declared she had
overheard that request; Colonel Spandrill then was safe from all
blame, but the full fire of their resentment was directed against poor
Caroline. Every feature of her face was criticised, and even the minutiæ
of her dress. They all allowed that she was handsome, but each found
some different fault with her style of beauty. It was curious to observe
how this secondary class of young ladies, who had without discomfiture
or emotion seen Caroline the object of Count Altenberg’s attention,
were struck with indignation the moment they suspected her of pleasing
Colonel Spandrill. Envy seldom takes two steps at once: it is always
excited by the fear of losing the proximate object of ambition; it never
exists without some mixture of hope as well as of fear. These ladies
having no hope of captivating Count Altenberg, Caroline did not then
appear to be their rival; but now that they dreaded her competition with
a man whom they had hopes of winning, they pulled her to pieces without
mercy.
The Miss Falconers and their quadrille-set were resting themselves,
whilst this country dance was going on. Miss Georgiana was all the
time endeavouring to engage Count Altenberg in conversation. By all
the modern arts of coquetry, so insipid to a man of the world, so
contemptible to a man of sense, she tried to recall the attention of the
Count. Politeness obliged him to seem to listen, and he endeavoured to
keep up that kind of conversation which is suited to a ball-room; but he
relapsed continually into reverie, till at last, provoked by his absence
of mind, Miss Georgiana, unable to conceal her vexation, unjustly threw
the blame upon her health. She complained of the headache, of heat, of
cold, of country dances--such barbarous things!--How could any one bear
any thing but quadrilles? Then the music--the band was horrid!--they
played vastly too fast--shocking! there was no such thing as keeping
time--did not Count Altenberg think so?
Count Altenberg was at that moment beating time with his foot, in exact
cadence to Miss Caroline Percy’s dancing: Miss Falconer saw this, but
not till she had uttered her question, not till it had been observed by
all her companions. Lady Frances Arlington half smiled, and half a smile
instantly appeared along a whole line of young ladies. Miss Georgiana
suddenly became sensible that she was exposed to the ridicule or
sarcastic pity of those who but an hour before had flattered her in
the grossest manner: she had expected to produce a great effect at this
ball--she saw another preferred. Her spirits sunk, and even the powers
of affectation failed. The struggle between the fine lady and the woman
ceased. Passion always conquers art at a _coup de main_. When any strong
emotion of the soul is excited, the natural character, temper, and
manners seldom fail to break through all that is factitious--those who
had seen Miss Georgiana Falconer only through the veil of affectation
were absolutely astonished at the change that appeared when it was
thrown aside. By the Count the metamorphosis was unnoticed, for he was
intent on another object; but by many of the spectators it was beheld
with open surprise, or secret contempt. She exhibited at this moment the
picture of a disappointed coquette--the spasm of jealousy had seized her
heart; and, unable to conceal or endure the pain in this convulsion of
mind, she forgot all grace and decorum. Her mother from afar saw the
danger at this crisis, and came to her relief. The danger in Mrs.
Falconer’s opinion was, that the young lady’s want of temper should be
seen by Count Altenberg; she therefore carried him off to a distant part
of the room, to show him, as she said, “a bassoon player, who was the
exact image of Hogarth’s enraged musician.”
In the mean time Colonel Spandrill and Caroline had finished their
dance: and the colonel, who made it a principle to engross the attention
of the prettiest woman in the room, was now, after his manner, paying
his adorations to his fair partner. Promising himself that he should be
able to recede or advance as he thought proper, he used a certain happy
ambiguity of phrase, which, according to the manner in which it is
understood, or rather according to the tone and look with which it is
accompanied, says every thing--or nothing. With prudent caution,
he began with darts, flames, wounds, and anguish; words which every
military man holds himself privileged to use towards every fine woman he
meets. Darts, flames, wounds, and anguish, were of no avail. The colonel
went on, as far as bright eyes--bewitching smiles--and heavenly grace.
Still without effect. With astonishment he perceived that the girl, who
looked as if she had never heard that she was handsome, received the
full fire of his flattery with the composure of a veteran inured to
public admiration.
Mrs. Falconer was almost as much surprised and disappointed by this as
the colonel could be. She had purposely introduced the gallant Colonel
Spandrill to the Miss Percys, in hopes that Caroline’s head might be
_affected_ by flattery; and that she might not then retain all that
dignity of manner which, as Mrs. Falconer had sense enough to see,
was her distinguishing charm in the eyes of the Count. Frustrated, and
dreading every instant that with all her address she should not be
able to manage her Georgiana’s temper, Mrs. Falconer became excessively
impatient for the departure of the Percy family.
“Mr. Falconer!” cried she; “Commissioner! Mrs. Percy ordered her
carriage a considerable time ago. They have a great way to return, and
a dreadful road--I am uneasy about them--do pray be so good to see what
detains her carriage.”
The commissioner went out of the room, and a few minutes afterwards
returned, and taking Mrs. Falconer aside, said, “I have something to
tell you, my dear, that will surprise you--indeed I can scarcely believe
it. Long as I have known Lord Oldborough, I never knew him do, or think
of doing such a thing--and he ill--at least ill enough with the gout,
for an excuse--an excuse he thought sufficient for the whole county--and
there are people of so much more consequence--I protest I cannot
understand it.”
“Understand what, commissioner?--Will you tell me what has happened, and
you may be as much surprised as you please afterwards? Lord Oldborough
has the gout,” added she, in an accent which expressed “_Well, all the
world knows that._”
“Lord Oldborough’s own confidential man Rodney, you know--”
“Well, well, Rodney I do know--what of him?”
“He is here--I have seen him this instant--from his lord, with a message
to Mr. Percy, to let him know that there are apartments prepared for him
and all his family at Clermont-park; and that he insists upon their not
returning this night to the Hills, lest the ladies should be tired.”
“Lord Oldborough!” repeated Mrs. Falconer; “Lord Oldborough!--the
ladies!--Clermont-park! where none but persons of the first distinction
are invited!”
“Ay, now you are surprised,” cried the commissioner.
“Surprised! beyond all power of expression,” said Mrs. Falconer.
“Beyond all power of dissimulation,” she should have said.
“Count Altenberg, too, going to hand them to their carriage--going
to Clermont-park with them!--I wish to Heaven,” said Mrs. Falconer to
herself, “I had never given this unfortunate ball!”
Mrs. Falconer was mistaken in this idea. It was not the circumstance of
meeting Caroline at a ball that made this impression on Count Altenberg;
wherever he had seen her, if he had had opportunity of conversing, and
of observing the dignity and simplicity of her manner, the same effect
would have been produced--but in fact Mrs. Falconer’s fears, and her
daughter’s jealousy, had much magnified the truth. Count Altenberg had
not, as they fancied, fallen desperately in love at first sight with
Caroline--he had only been pleased and interested sufficiently to make
him desirous to see more of her. Caroline, though so much the object of
jealousy, had not the slightest idea that she had made a conquest--she
simply thought the count’s conversation agreeable, and she was glad that
she should see him again at breakfast the next morning.