CHAPTER IV.
_Containing Some Account of the Viscountess Dowager Bellair_.
THE Viscountess Dowager Bellair was the last remaining link between thetwo centuries. Herself born of a noble family, and distinguished bothfor her beauty and her wit, she had reigned for a quarter of a centurythe favourite subject of Sir Joshua; had flirted with Lord Carlisle,and chatted with Dr. Johnson. But the most remarkable quality of herladyship's destiny was her preservation. Time, that had rolled on nearlya century since her birth, had spared alike her physical and mentalpowers. She was almost as active in body, and quite as lively in mind,as when seventy years before she skipped in Marylebone Gardens, orpuzzled the gentlemen of the Tuesday Night Club at Mrs. Cornely'smasquerades. These wonderful seventy years indeed had passed to LadyBellair like one of those very masked balls in which she had formerlysparkled; she had lived in a perpetual crowd of strange and brilliantcharacters. All that had been famous for beauty, rank, fashion, wit,genius, had been gathered round her throne; and at this very houra fresh and admiring generation, distinguished for these qualities,cheerfully acknowledged her supremacy, and paid to her their homage. Theheroes and heroines of her youth, her middle life, even of her old age,had vanished; brilliant orators, profound statesmen, inspired bards,ripe scholars, illustrious warriors; beauties whose dazzling charmshad turned the world mad; choice spirits, whose flying words or whosefanciful manners made every saloon smile or wonder--all had disappeared.She had witnessed revolutions in every country in the world; sheremembered Brighton a fishing-town, and Manchester a village; she hadshared the pomp of nabobs and the profusion of loan-mongers; she hadstimulated the early ambition of Charles Fox, and had sympathised withthe last aspirations of George Canning; she had been the confidant ofthe loves alike of Byron and Alfieri; had worn mourning for GeneralWolfe, and given a festival to the Duke of Wellington; had laughed withGeorge Selwyn, and smiled at Lord Alvanley; had known the firstmacaroni and the last dandy; remembered the Gunnings, and introduced theSheridans! But she herself was unchanged; still restless for novelty,still eager for amusement; still anxiously watching the entrance on thestage of some new stream of characters, and indefatigable inattracting the notice of everyone whose talents might contribute to herentertainment, or whose attention might gratify her vanity. And, really,when one recollected Lady Bel-lair's long career, and witnessed at thesame time her diminutive form and her unrivalled vitality, he mightalmost be tempted to believe, that if not absolutely immortal, it was atleast her strange destiny not so much vulgarly to die, as to grow likethe heroine of the fairy tale, each year smaller and smaller,
'Fine by degrees, and beautifully less,'
until her ladyship might at length subside into airy nothingness, and sorather vanish than expire.
It was the fashion to say that her ladyship had no heart; in mostinstances an unmeaning phrase; in her case certainly an unjust one.Ninety years of experience had assuredly not been thrown away on a mindof remarkable acuteness; but Lady Bellair's feelings were still quickand warm, and could be even profound. Her fancy was so lively, that herattention was soon engaged; her taste so refined, that her affectionwas not so easily obtained. Hence she acquired a character for caprice,because she repented at leisure those first impressions which with herwere irresistible; for, in truth, Lady Bellair, though she had nearlycompleted her century, and had passed her whole life in the mostartificial circles, was the very creature of impulse. Her first homageshe always declared was paid to talent, her second to beauty, her thirdto blood. The favoured individual who might combine these three splendidqualifications, was, with Lady Bellair, a nymph, or a demi-god. As formere wealth, she really despised it, though she liked her favourites tobe rich.
Her knowledge of human nature, which was considerable, her acquaintancewith human weaknesses, which was unrivalled, were not thrown away uponLady Bellair. Her ladyship's perception of character was fine and quick,and nothing delighted her so much as making a person a tool. Capable,where her heart was touched, of the finest sympathy and the mostgenerous actions, where her feelings were not engaged she experienced nocompunction in turning her companions to account, or, indeed, sometimesin honouring them with her intimacy for that purpose. But if you hadthe skill to detect her plots, and the courage to make her aware of yourconsciousness of them, you never displeased her, and often gained herfriendship. For Lady Bellair had a fine taste for humour, and when shechose to be candid, an indulgence which was not rare with her, shecould dissect her own character and conduct with equal spirit andimpartiality. In her own instance it cannot be denied that she comprisedthe three great qualifications she so much prized: for she was verywitty; had blood in her veins, to use her own expression; and was theprettiest woman in the world, for her years. For the rest, though noperson was more highly bred, she could be very impertinent; but if youtreated her with servility, she absolutely loathed you.
Lady Bellair, after the London season, always spent two or threemonths at Bath, and then proceeded to her great grandson's, the presentviscount's, seat in the North, where she remained until London wasagain attractive. Part of her domestic diplomacy was employed each year,during her Bath visit, in discovering some old friend, or making somenew acquaintance, who would bear her in safety, and save her harmlessfrom all expenses and dangers of the road, to Northumberland; and shedisplayed often in these arrangements talents which Talleyrand mighthave envied. During the present season, Mrs. Montgomery Floyd, the widowof a rich East Indian, whose intention it was to proceed to her estatein Scotland at the end of the autumn, had been presented to Lady Bellairby a friend well acquainted with her ladyship's desired arrangements.What an invaluable acquaintance at such a moment for Lady Bellair! Mrs.Montgomery Floyd, very rich and very anxious to be fashionable,was intoxicated with the flattering condescension and anticipatedcompanionship of Lady Bellair. At first Lady Bellair had quietlysuggested that they should travel together to Northumberland. Mrs.Montgomery Floyd was enchanted with the proposal. Then Lady Bellairregretted that her servant was very ill, and that she must send her totown immediately in her own carriage; and then Mrs. Montgomery Floydinsisted, in spite of the offers of Lady Bellair, that her ladyshipshould take a seat in her carriage, and would not for an instant hearof Lady Bellair defraying, under such circumstances, any portion of theexpense. Lady Bellair held out to the dazzled vision of Mrs. MontgomeryFloyd a brilliant perspective of the noble lords and wealthy squireswhose splendid seats, under the auspices of Lady Bellair, they wereto make their resting-places during their progress; and in time LadyBellair, who had a particular fancy for her own carriage, proposedthat her servants should travel in that of Mrs. Montgomery Floyd.Mrs. Montgomery Floyd smiled a too willing assent. It ended by Mrs.Montgomery Floyd's servants travelling to Lord Bellair's, where theirmistress was to meet them, in that lady's own carriage, and Lady Bellairtravelling in her own chariot with her own servants, and Mrs. MontgomeryFloyd defraying the expenditure of both expeditions.