CHAPTER XXVII. Plenus Opus Aleae
"Let me hear about those children, child, whom I saw running about atthe house where they took you in, poor dear boy, after your dreadfulfall?" says Maria, as they paced the common. "Oh, that fall, Harry! Ithought I should have died when I saw it! You needn't squeeze one's armso. You know you don't care for me?"
"The people are the very best, kindest, dearest people I have ever metin the world," cries Mr. Warrington. "Mrs. Lambert was a friend of mymother when she was in Europe for her education. Colonel Lambert is amost accomplished gentleman, and has seen service everywhere. He was inScotland with his Royal Highness, in Flanders, at Minorca. No naturalparents could be kinder than they were to me. How can I show mygratitude to them? I want to make them a present: I must make thema present," says Harry, clapping his hand into his pocket, which wasfilled with the crisp spoils of Morris and March.
"We can go to the toy-shop, my dear, and buy a couple of dolls for thechildren," says Lady Maria. "You would offend the parents by offeringanything like payment for their kindness."
"Dolls for Hester and Theo! Why, do you think a woman is not womantill she is forty, Maria?" (The arm under Harry's here gave a winceperhaps,--ever so slight a wince.) "I can tell you Miss Hester by nomeans considers herself a child, and Miss Theo is older than her sister.They know ever so many languages. They have read books--oh! pilesand piles of books! They play on the harpsichord and sing togetheradmirable; and Theo composes, and sings songs of her own."
"Indeed! I scarcely saw them. I thought they were children. They lookedquite childish. I had no idea they had all these perfections, and weresuch wonders of the world."
"That's just the way with you women! At home, if me or George praised awoman, Mrs. Esmond. and Mountain, too, would be sure to find fault withher!" cries Harry.
"I am sure I would find fault with no one who is kind to you, Mr.Warrington," sighed Maria, "though you are not angry with me for envyingthem because they had to take care of you when you were wounded andill--whilst I--I had to leave you?"
"You dear good Maria!"
"No, Harry! I am not dear and good. There, sir, you needn't be sopressing in your attentions. Look! There is your black man walking witha score of other wretches in livery. The horrid creatures are goingto fuddle at the tea-garden, and get tipsy like their masters. Thatdreadful Mr. Morris was perfectly tipsy when I came to you, andfrightened you so."
"I had just won great bets from both of them. What shall I buy foryou, my dear cousin?" And Harry narrated the triumphs which he had justachieved. He was in high spirits: he laughed, he bragged a little. "Forthe honour of Virginia I was determined to show them what jumping was,"he said. "With a little practice I think I could leap two foot farther."
Maria was pleased with the victories of her young champion. "But youmust beware about play, child," she said. "You know it hath been theruin of our family. My brother Castlewood, Will, our poor father, ouraunt, Lady Castlewood herself, they have all been victims to it: as formy Lord March, he is the most dreadful gambler and the most successfulof all the nobility."
"I don't intend to be afraid of him, nor of his friend Mr. Jack Morrisneither," says Harry, again fingering the delightful notes. "What do youplay at Aunt Bernstein's? Cribbage, all-fours, brag, whist, commerce,piquet, quadrille? I'm ready at any of 'em. What o'clock is thatstriking--sure 'tis seven!"
"And you want to begin now," said the plaintive Maria. "You don't careabout walking with your poor cousin. Not long ago you did."
"Hey! Youth is youth, cousin!" cried Mr. Harry, tossing up his head,"and a young fellow must have his fling!" and he strutted by hispartner's side, confident, happy, and eager for pleasure. Not long agohe did like to walk with her. Only yesterday, he liked to be with Theoand Hester, and good Mrs. Lambert; but pleasure, life, gaiety, thedesire to shine and to conquer, had also their temptations for the lad,who seized the cup like other lads, and did not care to calculate onthe headache in store for the morning. Whilst he and his cousin weretalking, the fiddles from the open orchestra on the Parade made a greattuning and squeaking, preparatory to their usual evening concert. Mariaknew her aunt was awake again, and that she must go back to her slavery.Harry never asked about that slavery, though he must have known it, hadhe taken the trouble to think. He never pitied his cousin. He was notthinking about her at all. Yet when his mishap befell him, she had beenwounded far more cruelly than he was. He had scarce ever been out of herthoughts, which of course she had had to bury under smiling hypocrisies,as is the way with her sex. I know, my dear Mrs. Grundy, you think shewas an old fool? Ah! do you suppose fools' caps do not cover grey hair,as well as jet or auburn? Bear gently with our elderly fredaines, O youMinerva of a woman! Or perhaps you are so good and wise that you don'tread novels at all. This I know, that there are late crops of wild oats,as well as early harvests of them; and (from observation of self andneighbour) I have an idea that the avena fatua grows up to the very lastdays of the year.
Like worldly parents anxious to get rid of a troublesome child, and goout to their evening party, Madame Bernstein and her attendants had putthe sun to bed, whilst it was as yet light, and had drawn the curtainsover it, and were busy about their cards and their candles, and theirtea and negus, and other refreshments. One chair after another landedladies at the Baroness's door, more or less painted, patched, brocaded.To these came gentlemen in gala raiment. Mr. Poellnitz's star was thelargest, and his coat the most embroidered of all present. My Lord ofMarch and Ruglen, when he made his appearance, was quite changed fromthe individual with whom Harry had made acquaintance at the White Horse.His tight brown scratch was exchanged for a neatly curled feathertop, with a bag and grey powder, his jockey-dress and leather breechesreplaced by a rich and elegant French suit. Mr. Jack Morris had justsuch another wig and a suit of stuff as closely as possible resemblinghis lordship's. Mr. Wolfe came in attendance upon his beautifulmistress, Miss Lowther, and her aunt who loved cards, as all the worlddid. When my Lady Maria Esmond made her appearance, 'tis certain thather looks belied Madame Bernstein's account of her. Her shape was veryfine, and her dress showed a great deal of it. Her complexion was bynature exceeding fair, and a dark frilled ribbon, clasped by a jewel,round her neck, enhanced its. snowy whiteness. Her cheeks were notredder than those of other ladies present, and the roses were prettyopenly purchased by everybody at the perfumery-shops. An artful patchor two, it was supposed, added to the lustre of her charms. Her hoop wasnot larger than the iron contrivances which ladies of the present dayhang round their persons; and we may pronounce that the costume, ifabsurd in some points, was pleasing altogether. Suppose our ladies tookto wearing of bangles and nose-rings? I dare say we should laugh at theornaments, and not dislike them, and lovers would make no difficultyabout lifting up the ring to be able to approach the rosy lipsunderneath.
As for the Baroness de Bernstein, when that lady took the pains ofmaking a grand toilette, she appeared as an object, handsome still, andmagnificent, but melancholy, and even somewhat terrifying to behold.You read the past in some old faces, while some others lapse intomere meekness and content. The fires go quite out of some eyes, as thecrow's-feet pucker round them; they flash no longer with scorn, orwith anger, or love; they gaze, and no one is melted by their sapphireglances; they look, and no one is dazzled. My fair young reader, ifyou are not so perfect a beauty as the peerless Lindamira, Queen of theBall; if, at the end of it, as you retire to bed, you meekly own thatyou have had but two or three partners, whilst Lindamira has had a crowdround her all night--console yourself with thinking that, at fifty, youwill look as kind and pleasant as you appear now at eighteen. You willnot have to lay down your coach-and-six of beauty and see another stepinto it, and walk yourself through the rest of life. You will haveto forgo no long-accustomed homage; you will not witness and own thedepreciation of your smiles. You will not see fashion forsake yourquarter; and remain all dust, gloom, cobwebs within your once splendidsaloons, and placards in your sad windows, gaunt, lo
nely, and to let!You may not have known any grandeur, but you won't feel any desertion.You will not have enjoyed millions, but you will have escapedbankruptcy. "Our hostess," said my Lord Chesterfield to his friend in aconfidential whisper, of which the utterer did not in the least know theloudness, "puts me in mind of Covent Garden in my youth. Then it wasthe court end of the town, and inhabited by the highest fashion. Now, anobleman's house is a gaming-house, or you may go in with a friend andcall for a bottle."
"Hey! a bottle and a tavern are good things in their way," says my LordMarch, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I was not born before theGeorges came in, though I intend to live to a hundred. I never knew theBernstein but as an old woman; and if she ever had beauty, hang me if Iknow how she spent it."
"No, hang me, how did she spend it?" laughs out Jack Morris.
"Here's a table! Shall we sit down and have a game?--Don't let theFrenchman come in. He won't pay. Mr. Warrington, will you take a card?"Mr. Warrington and my Lord Chesterfield found themselves partnersagainst Mr. Morris and the Earl of March. "You have come too late,Baron," says the elder nobleman to the other nobleman who was advancing."We have made our game. What, have you forgotten Mr. Warrington ofVirginia--the young gentleman whom you met in London?"
"The young gentleman whom I met at Arthur's Chocolate House had blackhair, a little cocked nose, and was by no means so fortunate in hispersonal appearance as Mr. Warrington," said the Baron, with muchpresence of mind. "Warrington, Dorrington, Harrington? We of thecontinent cannot retain your insular names. I certify that thisgentleman is not the individual of whom I spoke at dinner." And,glancing kindly upon him, the old beau sidled away to a farther endof the room, where Mr. Wolfe and Miss Lowther were engaged in deepconversation in the embrasure of a window. Here the Baron thought fit toengage the Lieutenant-Colonel upon the Prussian manual exercise, whichhad lately been introduced into King George II.'s army--a subject withwhich Mr. Wolfe was thoroughly familiar, and which no doubt wouldhave interested him at any other moment but that. Nevertheless the oldgentleman uttered his criticisms and opinions, and thought he perfectlycharmed the two persons to whom he communicated them.
At the commencement of the evening the Baroness received her guestspersonally, and as they arrived engaged them in talk and introductorycourtesies. But as the rooms and tables filled, and the parties weremade up, Madame de Bernstein became more and more restless, and finallyretreated with three friends to her own corner, where a table speciallyreserved for her was occupied by her major-domo. And here the old ladysate down resolutely, never changing her place or quitting her game tillcock-crow. The charge of receiving the company devolved now upon my LadyMaria, who did not care for cards, but dutifully did the honours of thehouse to her aunt's guests, and often rustled by the table where heryoung cousin was engaged with his three friends.
"Come and cut the cards for us," said my Lord March to her ladyship asshe passed on one of her wistful visits. "Cut the cards and bring usluck, Lady Maria! We have had none to-night, and Mr. Warrington iswinning everything."
"I hope you are not playing high, Harry?" said the lady, timidly.
"Oh no, only sixpences," cried my lord, dealing.
"Only sixpences," echoed Mr. Morris, who was Lord March's partner. ButMr. Morris must have been very keenly alive to the value of sixpence, ifthe loss of a few such coins could make his round face look so dismal.My Lord Chesterfield sate opposite Mr. Warrington, sorting his cards. Noone could say, by inspecting that calm physiognomy, whether good or illfortune was attending his lordship.
Some word, not altogether indicative of delight, slipped out of Mr.Morris's lips, on which his partner cried out, "Hang it, Morris, playyour cards, and hold your tongue!" Considering they were only playingfor sixpences, his lordship, too, was strangely affected.
Maria, still fondly lingering by Harry's chair, with her hand at theback of it, could see his cards, and that a whole covey of trumps wasranged in one corner. She had not taken away his luck. She was pleasedto think she had cut that pack which had dealt him all those prettytrumps. As Lord March was dealing, he had said in a quiet voice to Mr.Warrington, "The bet as before, Mr. Warrington, or shall we double it?"
"Anything you like, my lord," said Mr. Warrington, very quietly.
"We will say, then,--shillings."
"Yes, shillings," says Mr. Warrington, and the game proceeded.
The end of the day's, and some succeeding days' sport may be gatheredfrom the following letter, which was never delivered to the person towhom it was addressed, but found its way to America in the papers of Mr.Henry Warrington:
"TUNBRIDGE WELLS, August 10, 1756.
"DEAR GEORGE--As White's two bottles of Burgundy and a pack of cardsconstitute all the joys of your life, I take for granted that you are inLondon at this moment, preferring smoke and faro to fresh air and freshhaystacks. This will be delivered to you by a young gentleman with whomI have lately made acquaintance, and whom you will be charmed to know.He will play with you at any game for any stake, up to any hour of thenight, and drink any reasonable number of bottles during the play.Mr. Warrington is no other than the Fortunate Youth about whom so manystories have been told in the Public Advertiser and other prints. Hehas an estate in Virginia as big as Yorkshire, with the incumbrance of amother, the reigning Sovereign; but, as the country is unwholesome, andfevers plentiful, let us hope that Mrs. Esmond will die soon, andleave this virtuous lad in undisturbed possession. She is aunt of thatpolisson of a Castlewood, who never pays his play-debts, unless he ismore honourable in his dealings with you than he has been with me. Mr.W. is de bonne race. We must have him of our society, if it be only thatI may win my money back from him.
"He has had the devil's luck here, and has been winning everything,whilst his old card-playing beldam of an aunt has been losing. A fewnights ago, when I first had the ill-luck to make his acquaintance, hebeat me in jumping (having practised the art amongst the savages, andrunning away from bears in his native woods); he won bets off me andJack Morris about my weight; and at night, when we sat down to play, atold Bernstein's, he won from us all round. If you can settle our lastEpsom account please hand over to Mr. Warrington 350 pounds, which Istill owe him, after pretty well emptying my pocket-book. Chesterfieldhas dropped six hundred to him, too; but his lordship does not wishto have it known, having sworn to give up play and live cleanly. JackMorris, who has not been hit as hard as either of us, and can afford itquite as well, for the fat chuff has no houses nor train to keep up, andall his misbegotten father's money in hand, roars like a bull of Bashanabout his losses. We had a second night's play, en petit comite, andBarbeau served us a fair dinner in a private room. Mr. Warringtonholds his tongue like a gentleman, and none of us have talked about ourlosses; but the whole place does, for us. Yesterday the Cattarina lookedas sulky as thunder, because I would not give her a diamond necklace,and says I refuse her because I have lost five thousand to theVirginian. My old Duchess of Q. has the very same story, besides knowingto a fraction what Chesterfield and Jack have lost.
"Warrington treated the company to breakfast and music at the rooms; andyou should have seen how the women tore him to pieces. That fiend ofa Cattarina ogled him out of my vis-a-vis, and under my very nose,yesterday, as we were driving to Penshurst, and I have no doubt has senthim a billet-doux ere this. He shot Jack Morris all to pieces at a mark:we shall try him with partridges when the season comes.
"He is a fortunate fellow, certainly. He has youth (which is notdeboshed by evil courses in Virginia, as ours is in England); he hasgood health, good looks, and good luck.
"In a word, Mr. Warrington has won our money in a very gentlemanlikemanner; and, as I like him, and wish to win some of it back again, I puthim under your worship's saintly guardianship. Adieu! I am going to theNorth, and shall be back for Doncaster.--Yours ever, dear George, M. et R."
"To George Augustus Selwyn, Esq., at White's Chocolate House, St.James's Street."
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