CHAPTER VI.
TABLE-TALK.
And, sir, if these accounts be true, The Dutch have mighty things in view; The Austrians--I admire French beans, Dear ma'am, above all other greens.
* * * * *
And all as lively and as brisk As--Ma'am, d'ye choose a game at whisk?
_Table-Talk._
When they were about to leave the room, Lady Penelope assumed Tyrrel'sarm with a sweet smile of condescension, meant to make the honouredparty understand in its full extent the favour conferred. But theunreasonable artist, far from intimating the least confusion at anattention so little to be expected, seemed to consider the distinctionas one which was naturally paid to the greatest stranger present; andwhen he placed Lady Penelope at the head of the table, by Mr.Winterblossom the president, and took a chair for himself betwixt herladyship and Lady Binks, the provoking wretch appeared no more sensibleof being exalted above his proper rank in society, than if he had beensitting at the bottom of the table by honest Mrs. Blower from theBow-head, who had come to the Well to carry off the dregs of the_Inflienzie_, which she scorned to term a surfeit.
Now this indifference puzzled Lady Penelope's game extremely, andirritated her desire to get at the bottom of Tyrrel's mystery, if therewas one, and secure him to her own party. If you were ever at awatering-place, reader, you know that while the guests do not always paythe most polite attention to unmarked individuals, the appearance of astray lion makes an interest as strong as it is reasonable, and theAmazonian chiefs of each coterie, like the hunters of Buenos-Ayres,prepare their _lasso_, and manoeuvre to the best advantage they can,each hoping to noose the unsuspicious monster, and lead him captive toher own menagerie. A few words concerning Lady Penelope Penfeather willexplain why she practised this sport with even more than common zeal.
She was the daughter of an earl, possessed a showy person, and featureswhich might be called handsome in youth, though now rather too much_prononces_ to render the term proper. The nose was become sharper; thecheeks had lost the roundness of youth; and as, during fifteen yearsthat she had reigned a beauty and a ruling toast, the right man had notspoken, or, at least, had not spoken at the right time, her ladyship,now rendered sufficiently independent by the inheritance of an oldrelation, spoke in praise of friendship, began to dislike the town insummer, and to "babble of green fields."
About the time Lady Penelope thus changed the tenor of her life, she wasfortunate enough, with Dr. Quackleben's assistance, to find out thevirtues of St Ronan's spring; and having contributed her share toestablish the _urbs in rure_, which had risen around it, she sat herselfdown as leader of the fashions in the little province which she had in agreat measure both discovered and colonized. She was, therefore, justlydesirous to compel homage and tribute from all who should approach theterritory.
In other respects, Lady Penelope pretty much resembled the numerousclass she belonged to. She was at bottom a well-principled woman, buttoo thoughtless to let her principles control her humour, therefore notscrupulously nice in her society. She was good-natured, but capriciousand whimsical, and willing enough to be kind or generous, if it neitherthwarted her humour, nor cost her much trouble; would have chaperoned ayoung friend any where, and moved the world for subscription tickets;but never troubled herself how much her giddy charge flirted, or withwhom; so that, with a numerous class of Misses, her ladyship was themost delightful creature in the world. Then Lady Penelope had lived somuch in society, knew so exactly when to speak, and how to escape froman embarrassing discussion by professing ignorance, while she lookedintelligence, that she was not generally discovered to be a fool, unlesswhen she set up for being remarkably clever. This happened morefrequently of late, when, perhaps, as she could not but observe that therepairs of the toilet became more necessary, she might suppose that newlights, according to the poet, were streaming on her mind through thechinks that Time was making. Many of her friends, however, thought thatLady Penelope would have better consulted her genius by remaining inmediocrity, as a fashionable and well-bred woman, than by parading hernew-founded pretensions to taste and patronage; but such was not her ownopinion, and doubtless, her ladyship was the best judge.
On the other side of Tyrrel sat Lady Binks, lately the beautiful MissBonnyrigg, who, during the last season, had made the company at the Wellalternately admire, smile, and stare, by dancing the highest Highlandfling, riding the wildest pony, laughing the loudest laugh at thebroadest joke, and wearing the briefest petticoat of any nymph of St.Ronan's. Few knew that this wild, hoydenish, half-mad humour, was onlysuperinduced over her real character, for the purpose of--getting wellmarried. She had fixed her eyes on Sir Bingo, and was aware of hismaxim, that to catch him, "a girl must be," in his own phrase, "bang upto every thing;" and that he would choose a wife for the neck-or-nothingqualities which recommend a good hunter. She made out her catch-match,and she was miserable. Her wild good-humour was entirely an assumed partof her character, which was passionate, ambitious, and thoughtful.Delicacy she had none--she knew Sir Bingo was a brute and a fool, evenwhile she was hunting him down; but she had so far mistaken her ownfeelings, as not to have expected that when she became bone of his bone,she should feel so much shame and anger when she saw his folly exposehim to be laughed at and plundered, or so disgusted when his brutalitybecame intimately connected with herself. It is true, he was on thewhole rather an innocent monster; and between bitting and bridling,coaxing and humouring, might have been made to pad on well enough. Butan unhappy boggling which had taken place previous to the declaration oftheir private marriage, had so exasperated her spirits against herhelpmate, that modes of conciliation were the last she was likely toadopt. Not only had the assistance of the Scottish Themis, sopropitiously indulgent to the foibles of the fair, been resorted to onthe occasion, but even Mars seemed ready to enter upon the tapis, ifHymen had not intervened. There was, _de par le monde_, a certainbrother of the lady--an officer--and, as it happened, on leave ofabsence,--who alighted from a hack-chaise at the Fox Hotel, at eleveno'clock at night, holding in his hand a slip of well-dried oak,accompanied by another gentleman, who, like himself, wore a militarytravelling-cap and a black stock; out of the said chaise, as wasreported by the trusty Toby, was handed a small reise-sac, an AndrewFerrara, and a neat mahogany box, eighteen inches long, three deep, andsome six broad. Next morning a solemn _palaver_ (as the natives ofMadagascar call their national convention) was held at an unusual hour,at which Captain MacTurk and Mr. Mowbray assisted; and the upshot was,that at breakfast the company were made happy by the information, thatSir Bingo had been for some weeks the happy bridegroom of their generalfavourite; which union, concealed for family reasons, he was now atliberty to acknowledge, and to fly with the wings of love to bring hissorrowing turtle from the shades to which she had retired, till theobstacles to their mutual happiness could be removed. Now, though allthis sounded very smoothly, that gall-less turtle, Lady Binks, couldnever think of the tenor of the proceedings without the deepest feelingsof resentment and contempt for the principal actor, Sir Bingo.
Besides all these unpleasant circumstances, Sir Bingo's family hadrefused to countenance her wish that he should bring her to his ownseat; and hence a new shock to her pride, and new matter of contemptagainst poor Sir Bingo, for being ashamed and afraid to face down theopposition of his kins-folk, for whose displeasure, though neverattending to any good advice from them, he retained a childish awe.
The manners of the young lady were no less changed than was her temper;and, from being much too careless and free, were become reserved,sullen, and haughty. A consciousness that many scrupled to holdintercourse with her in society, rendered her disagreeably tenacious ofher rank, and jealous of every thing that appeared like neglect. She hadconstituted herself mistress of Sir Bingo's purse; and, unrestrained inthe expenses of dress and equipage, chose, contrary to her maidenpractice, to be rather rich and splendid than gay, and to command thatattention by magnificence,
which she no longer deigned to solicit byrendering herself either agreeable or entertaining. One secret source ofher misery was, the necessity of showing deference to Lady PenelopePenfeather, whose understanding she despised, and whose pretensions toconsequence, to patronage, and to literature, she had acuteness enoughto see through, and to contemn; and this dislike was the more grievous,that she felt she depended a good deal on Lady Penelope's countenancefor the situation she was able to maintain even among the not veryselect society of St. Ronan's Well; and that, neglected by her, she musthave dropped lower in the scale even there. Neither was Lady Penelope'skindness to Lady Binks extremely cordial. She partook in the ancient andordinary dislike of single nymphs of a certain age, to those who madesplendid alliances under their very eye--and she more than suspected thesecret disaffection of the lady. But the name sounded well; and thestyle in which Lady Binks lived was a credit to the place. So theysatisfied their mutual dislike with saying a few sharp things to eachother occasionally, but all under the mask of civility.
Such was Lady Binks; and yet, being such, her dress, and her equipage,and carriages, were the envy of half the Misses at the Well, who, whileshe sat disfiguring with sullenness her very lovely face, (for it was asbeautiful as her shape was exquisite,) only thought she was proud ofhaving carried her point, and felt herself, with her large fortune anddiamond bandeau, no fit company for the rest of the party. They gaveway, therefore, with meekness to her domineering temper, though it wasnot the less tyrannical, that in her maiden state of hoyden-hood, shehad been to some of them an object of slight and of censure; and LadyBinks had not forgotten the offences offered to Miss Bonnyrigg. But thefair sisterhood submitted to her retaliations, as lieutenants endure thebullying of a rude and boisterous captain of the sea, with the secretdetermination to pay it home to their underlings, when they shall becomecaptains themselves.
In this state of importance, yet of penance, Lady Binks occupied herplace at the dinner-table, alternately disconcerted by some stupidspeech of her lord and master, and by some slight sarcasm from LadyPenelope, to which she longed to reply, but dared not.
She looked from time to time at her neighbour Frank Tyrrel, but withoutaddressing him, and accepted in silence the usual civilities which heproffered to her. She had remarked keenly his interview with Sir Bingo,and knowing by experience the manner in which her honoured lord was wontto retreat from a dispute in which he was unsuccessful, as well as hisgenius for getting into such perplexities, she had little doubt that hehad sustained from the stranger some new indignity; whom, therefore, sheregarded with a mixture of feeling, scarce knowing whether to be pleasedwith him for having given pain to him whom she hated, or angry with himfor having affronted one in whose degradation her own was necessarilyinvolved. There might be other thoughts--on the whole, she regarded himwith much though with mute attention. He paid her but little in return,being almost entirely occupied in replying to the questions of theengrossing Lady Penelope Penfeather.
Receiving polite though rather evasive answers to her enquiriesconcerning his late avocations, her ladyship could only learn thatTyrrel had been travelling in several remote parts of Europe, and evenof Asia. Baffled, but not repulsed, the lady continued her courtesy, bypointing out to him, as a stranger, several individuals of the companyto whom she proposed introducing him, as persons from whose society hemight derive either profit or amusement. In the midst of this sort ofconversation, however, she suddenly stopped short.
"Will you forgive me, Mr. Tyrrel," she said, "if I say I have beenwatching your thoughts for some moments, and that I have detected you?All the while that I have been talking of these good folks, and that youhave been making such civil replies, that they might be with greatpropriety and utility inserted in the 'Familiar Dialogues, teachingforeigners how to express themselves in English upon ordinaryoccasions'--your mind has been entirely fixed upon that empty chair,which hath remained there opposite betwixt our worthy president and SirBingo Binks."
"I own, madam," he answered, "I was a little surprised at seeing such adistinguished seat unoccupied, while the table is rather crowded."
"O, confess more, sir!--Confess that to a poet a seat unoccupied--thechair of Banquo--has more charms than if it were filled even as analderman would fill it.--What if 'the Dark Ladye'[I-14] should glide inand occupy it?--would you have courage to stand the vision, Mr.Tyrrel?--I assure you the thing is not impossible."
"_What_ is not impossible, Lady Penelope?" said Tyrrel, somewhatsurprised.
"Startled already?--Nay, then, I despair of your enduring the awfulinterview."
"What interview? who is expected?" said Tyrrel, unable with the utmostexertion to suppress some signs of curiosity, though he suspected thewhole to be merely some mystification of her ladyship.
"How delighted I am," she said, "that I have found out where you arevulnerable!--Expected--did I say expected?--no, not expected.
'She glides, like Night, from land to land, She hath strange power of speech.'
--But come, I have you at my mercy, and I will be generous andexplain.--We call--that is, among ourselves, you understand--Miss ClaraMowbray, the sister of that gentleman that sits next to Miss Parker, theDark Ladye, and that seat is left for her.--For she was expected--no,not expected--I forget again!--but it was thought _possible_ she mighthonour us to-day, when our feast was so full and piquant.--Her brotheris our Lord of the Manor--and so they pay her that sort of civility toregard her as a visitor--and neither Lady Binks nor I think ofobjecting--She is a singular young person, Clara Mowbray--she amuses mevery much--I am always rather glad to see her."
"She is not to come hither to-day," said Tyrrel; "am I so to understandyour ladyship?"
"Why, it is past her time--even _her_ time," said Lady Penelope--"dinnerwas kept back half an hour, and our poor invalids were famishing, as youmay see by the deeds they have done since.--But Clara is an oddcreature, and if she took it into her head to come hither at thismoment, hither she would come--she is very whimsical.--Many people thinkher handsome--but she looks so like something from another world, thatshe makes me always think of Mat Lewis's Spectre Lady."
And she repeated with much cadence,
"There is a thing--there is a thing, I fain would have from thee; I fain would have that gay gold ring, O warrior, give it me!"
"And then you remember his answer:
'This ring Lord Brooke from his daughter took, And a solemn oath he swore, That that ladye my bride should be When this crusade was o'er.'
You do figures as well as landscapes, I suppose, Mr. Tyrrel?--You shallmake a sketch for me--a slight thing--for sketches, I think, show thefreedom of art better than finished pieces--I dote on the firstcoruscations of genius--flashing like lightning from the cloud!--Youshall make a sketch for my boudoir--my dear sulky den at Air Castle, andClara Mowbray shall sit for the Ghost Ladye."
"That would be but a poor compliment to your ladyship's friend," repliedTyrrel.
"Friend? We don't get quite that length, though I like Clara verywell.--Quite sentimental cast of face--I think I saw an antique in theLouvre very like her--(I was there in 1800)--quite an antiquecountenance--eyes something hollowed--care has dug caves for them, butthey are caves of the most beautiful marble, arched with jet--a straightnose, and absolutely the Grecian mouth and chin--a profusion of longstraight black hair, with the whitest skin you ever saw--as white as thewhitest parchment--and not a shade of colour in her cheek--nonewhatever--If she would be naughty, and borrow a prudent touch ofcomplexion, she might be called beautiful. Even as it is, many think herso, although surely, Mr. Tyrrel, three colours are necessary to thefemale face. However, we used to call her the Melpomene of the Springlast season, as we called Lady Binks--who was not then Lady Binks--ourEuphrosyne--did we not, my dear?"
"Did we not what, madam?" said Lady Binks, in a tone something sharperthan ought to have belonged to so beautiful a countenance.
"I am sorry I have started you out of your re
verie, my love," answeredLady Penelope. "I was only assuring Mr. Tyrrel that you were onceEuphrosyne, though now so much under the banners of Il Penseroso."
"I do not know that I have been either one or the other," answered LadyBinks; "one thing I certainly am not--I am not capable of understandingyour ladyship's wit and learning."
"Poor soul," whispered Lady Penelope to Tyrrel; "we know what we are, weknow not what we may be.--And now, Mr. Tyrrel, I have been your sibyl toguide you through this Elysium of ours, I think, in reward, I deserve alittle confidence in return."
"If I had any to bestow, which could be in the slightest degreeinteresting to your ladyship," answered Tyrrel.
"Oh! cruel man--he will not understand me!" exclaimed the lady--"Inplain words, then, a peep into your portfolio--just to see what objectsyou have rescued from natural decay, and rendered immortal by thepencil. You do not know--indeed, Mr. Tyrrel, you do not know how I doteupon your 'serenely silent art,' second to poetry alone--equal--superiorperhaps--to music."
"I really have little that could possibly be worth the attention of sucha judge as your ladyship," answered Tyrrel; "such trifles as yourladyship has seen, I sometimes leave at the foot of the tree I have beensketching."
"As Orlando left his verses in the Forest of Ardennes?--Oh, thethoughtless prodigality!--Mr. Winterblossom, do you hear this?--We mustfollow Mr. Tyrrel in his walks, and glean what he leaves behind him."
Her ladyship was here disconcerted by some laughter on Sir Bingo's sideof the table, which she chastised by an angry glance, and then proceededemphatically.
"Mr. Tyrrel--this must _not_ be--this is not the way of the world, mygood sir, to which even genius must stoop its flight. We must consultthe engraver--though perhaps you etch as well as you draw?"
"I should suppose so," said Mr. Winterblossom, edging in a word withdifficulty, "from the freedom of Mr. Tyrrel's touch."
"I will not deny my having spoiled a little copper now and then," saidTyrrel, "since I am charged with the crime by such good judges; but ithas only been by way of experiment."
"Say no more," said the lady; "my darling wish is accomplished!--We havelong desired to have the remarkable and most romantic spots of ourlittle Arcadia here--spots consecrated to friendship, the fine arts, theloves and the graces, immortalized by the graver's art, faithful to itscharge of fame--you shall labour on this task, Mr. Tyrrel; we will allassist with notes and illustrations--we will all contribute--only someof us must be permitted to remain anonymous--Fairy favours, you know,Mr. Tyrrel, must be kept secret--And you shall be allowed the pillage ofthe Album--some sweet things there of Mr. Chatterly's--and Mr. Edgeit, agentleman of your own profession, I am sure will lend his aid--Dr.Quackleben will contribute some scientific notices.--And forsubscription"----
"Financial--financial--your leddyship, I speak to order!" said thewriter, interrupting Lady Penelope with a tone of impudent familiarity,which was meant doubtless for jocular ease.
"How am I out of order, Mr. Meiklewham?" said her ladyship, drawingherself up.
"I speak to order!--No warrants for money can be extracted beforeintimation to the Committee of Management."
"Pray, who mentioned money, Mr. Meiklewham?" said her ladyship.--"Thatwretched old pettifogger," she added in a whisper to Tyrrel, "thinks ofnothing else but the filthy pelf."
"Ye spake of subscription, my leddy, whilk is the same thing as money,differing only in respect of time--the subscription being a contract _defuturo_, and having a _tractus temporis in gremio_--And I have kend monyhonest folks in the company at the Well, complain of the subscriptionsas a great abuse, as obliging them either to look unlike other folk, orto gie good lawful coin for ballants and picture-books, and things theycaredna a pinch of snuff for."
Several of the company, at the lower end of the table, assented both bynods and murmurs of approbation; and the orator was about to proceed,when Tyrrel with difficulty procured a hearing before the debate wentfarther, and assured the company that her ladyship's goodness had ledher into an error; that he had no work in hand worthy of theirpatronage, and, with the deepest gratitude for Lady Penelope's goodness,had it not in his power to comply with her request. There was sometittering at her ladyship's expense, who, as the writer slyly observed,had been something _ultronious_ in her patronage. Without attempting forthe moment any rally, (as indeed the time which had passed since theremoval of the dinner scarce permitted an opportunity,) Lady Penelopegave the signal for the ladies' retreat, and left the gentlemen to thecirculation of the bottle.
FOOTNOTE:
[I-14] Note II.--The Dark Ladye.