The Newcomes

down at breakfast, and she levelled commonplaces at her dearest James,

  her dearest James became more wretched under her. And no one could see

  what his complaint was. He called in the old physicians at the Club. He

  dosed himself with poppy, and mandragora and blue pill--lower and lower

  went poor James's mercury. If he wanted to move to Brighton or

  Cheltenham, well and good. Whatever were her engagements, or whatever

  pleasures darling Rosey might have in store, dear thing!--at her age, my

  dear Mrs. Newcome, would not one do all to make a young creature happy?--

  under no circumstances could I think of leaving my poor brother.

  Mrs. Mackenzie thought herself a most highly principled woman, Mrs.

  Newcome had also a great opinion of her. These two ladies had formed a

  considerable friendship in the past months, the captain's widow having an

  unaffected reverence for the banker's lady and thinking her one of the

  best informed and most superior women in the world. When she had a high

  opinion of a person Mrs. Mack always wisely told it. Mrs. Newcome in her

  turn thought Mrs. Mackenzie a very clever, agreeable, ladylike woman,--

  not accomplished, but one could not have everything. "No, no, my dear,"

  says simple Hobson, "never would do to have every woman as clever as you

  are, Maria. Women would have it all their own way then."

  Maria, as her custom was, thanked God for being so virtuous and clever,

  and graciously admitted Mrs. and Miss Mackenzie into the circle of

  adorers of that supreme virtue and talent. Mr. Newcome took little Rosey

  and her mother to some parties. When any took place in Bryanstone Square,

  they were generally allowed to come to tea.

  When on the second day of his arrival the dutiful Clive went to dine with

  Mr. James, the ladies, in spite of their raptures at his return and

  delight at seeing him, were going in the evening to his aunt. Their talk

  was about the Princess all dinner-time. The Prince and Princess were to

  dine in Bryanstone Square. The Princess had ordered such and such things

  at the jeweller's--the Princess would take rank over an English Earl's

  daughter--over Lady Anne Newcome, for instance. "Oh, dear! I wish the

  Prince and Princess were smothered in the Tower," growled James Binnie;

  "since you have got acquainted with 'em I have never heard of anything

  else."

  Clive, like a wise man, kept his counsel about the Prince and Princess,

  with whom we have seen that he had had the honour of an interview that

  very day. But after dinner Rosey came round and whispered to her mamma,

  and after Rosey's whisper mamma flung her arms round Rosey's neck and

  kissed her, and called her a thoughtful darling. "What do you think this

  creature says, Clive?" says Mrs. Mack, still holding her darling's little

  hand. "I wonder I had not thought of it myself."

  "What is it, Mrs. Mackenzie?" asks Clive, laughing.

  "She says why should not you come to your aunt's with us? We are sure

  Mrs. Newcome would be most happy to see you"

  Rosey, with a little hand put to mamma's mouth, said, "Why did you tell?

  --you naughty mamma! Isn't she a naughty mamma, Uncle James?" More kisses

  follow after this sally, of which Uncle James receives one with perfect

  complacency: mamma crying out as Rosey retires to dress, "That darling

  child is always thinking of others--always!"

  Clive says, "he will sit and smoke a cheroot with Mr. Binnie, if they

  please." James's countenance falls. "We have left off that sort of thing

  here, my dear Clive, a long time," cries Mrs. Mackenzie, departing from

  the dining-room.

  "But we have improved the claret, Clive, my boy!" whispers Uncle James.

  "Let us have another bottle, and we will drink to the dear Colonel's good

  health and speedy return--God bless him! I say, Clive, Tom seems to have

  had a most fortunate escape out of Winter's house--thanks to our friend

  Rummun Loll, and to have got into a capital good thing with this

  Bundelcund bank. They speak famously of it at Hanover Square, and I see

  the Hurkara quotes the shares at a premium already."

  Clive did not know anything about the Bundelcund bank, except a few words

  found in a letter from his father, which he had in the City this morning,

  "and an uncommonly liberal remittance the governor has sent me home,

  sir." Upon which they fill another bumper to the Colonel's health.

  Mamma and Rosey come and show their pretty pink dresses before going to

  Mrs. Newcome's, and Clive lights a cigar in the hall--and isn't there a

  jubilation at the Haunt when the young fellow's face appears above the

  smoke-clouds there?

  CHAPTER XLI

  An Old Story

  Many of Clive's Roman friends were by this time come to London, and the

  young man renewed his acquaintance with them, and had speedily a

  considerable circle of his own. He thought fit to allow himself a good

  horse or two, and appeared in the Park among other young dandies. He and

  Monsieur de Moncontour were sworn allies. Lord Fareham, who had purchased

  J. J.'s picture, was Clive's very good friend: Major Pendennis himself

  pronounced him to be a young fellow of agreeable manners, and very

  favourably vu (as the Major happened to know) in some very good quarters.

  Ere many days Clive had been to Brighton to see Lady Anne and Sir Brian,

  and good Aunt Honeyman, in whose house the Baronet was lodged: and I

  suppose he found out, by some means or other, where Lady Kew lived in

  Mayfair.

  But her ladyship was not at home, nor was she at home on the second day,

  nor did there come any note from Ethel to her cousin. She did not ride in

  the Park as of old. Clive, bien vu as he was, did not belong to that

  great world as yet, in which he would be pretty sure to meet her every

  night at one of those parties where everybody goes. He read her name in

  the paper morning after morning, as having been present at Lady This's

  entertainment and Lady That's ministerial reunion. At first he was too

  shy to tell what the state of the case was, and took nobody into his

  confidence regarding his little tendre.

  There he was riding through Queen Street, Mayfair, attired in splendid

  raiment: never missing the Park; actually going to places of worship in

  the neighbourhood; and frequenting the opera--a waste of time which one

  would never have expected in a youth of his nurture. At length a certain

  observer of human nature remarking his state, rightly conjectured that he

  must be in love, and taxed him with the soft impeachment--on which the

  young man, no doubt anxious to open his heart to some one, poured out all

  that story which has before been narrated; and told how he thought his

  passion cured, and how it was cured; but when he heard from Kew at Naples

  that the engagement was over between him and Miss Newcome, Clive found

  his own flame kindle again with new ardour. He was wild to see her. He

  dashed off from Naples instantly on receiving the news that she was free.

  He had been ten days in London without getting a glimpse of her. "That

  Mrs. Mackenzie bothers me so I hardly know where to turn," said poor

  Clive, "and poor little Rosey is made to wri
te me a note about something

  twice a day. She's a good dear little thing--little Rosey--and I really

  had thought once of--of--oh, never mind that! Oh, Pen! I'm up another

  tree now! and a poor miserable young beggar I am!" In fact, Mr. Pendennis

  was installed as confidant, vice J. J.--absent on leave.

  This is a part, which, especially for a few days, the present biographer

  has always liked well enough. For a while, at least, I think almost every

  man or woman is interesting when in love. If you know of two or three

  such affairs going on in any soiree to which you may be invited--is not

  the party straightway amusing? Yonder goes Augustus Tomkins, working his

  way through the rooms to that far corner where demure Miss Hopkins is

  seated, to whom the stupid grinning Bumpkins thinks he is making himself

  agreeable. Yonder sits Miss Fanny distraite, and yet trying to smile as

  the captain is talking his folly the parson his glib compliments. And

  see, her face lights up all of a sudden: her eyes beam with delight at

  the captain's stories, and at that delightful young clergyman likewise.

  It is because Augustus has appeared; their eyes only meet for one

  semi-second, but that is enough for Miss Fanny. Go on, captain, with your

  twaddle!--Proceed, my reverend friend, with your smirking commonplaces!

  In the last two minutes the world has changed for Miss Fanny. That moment

  has come for which she has been fidgeting and longing and scheming all

  day! How different an interest, I say, has a meeting of people for a

  philosopher who knows of a few such little secrets, to that which your

  vulgar looker-on feels who comes but to eat the ices, and stare at the

  ladies' dresses and beauty! There are two frames of mind under which

  London society is bearable to a man--to be an actor in one of those

  sentimental performances above hinted at; or to be a spectator and watch

  it. But as for the mere dessus de cartes--would not an arm-chair and the

  dullest of books be better than that dull game?

  So I not only became Clive's confidant in this affair, but took a

  pleasure in extracting the young fellow's secrets from him, or rather in

  encouraging him to pour them forth. Thus was the great part of the

  previous tale revealed to me: thus Jack Belsize's misadventures, of the

  first part of which we had only heard in London (and whither he returned

  presently to be reconciled to his father, after his elder brother's

  death). Thus my Lord Kew's secret history came into my possession; let us

  hope for the public's future delectation, and the chronicler's private

  advantage. And many a night until daylight did appear has poor Clive

  stamped his chamber or my own, pouring his story out to me, his griefs

  and raptures; recalling, in his wild young way, recollections of Ethel's

  sayings and doings; uttering descriptions of her beauty, and raging

  against the cruelty which she exhibited towards him.

  As soon as the new confidant heard the name of the young lover's charmer,

  to do Mr. Pendennis justice, he endeavoured to fling as much cold water

  upon Clive's flame as a small private engine could be brought to pour on

  such a conflagration. "Miss Newcome! my dear Clive," says the confidant,

  "do you know what you are aspiring to? For the last three months Miss

  Newcome has been the greatest lioness in London: the reigning beauty

  winning the horse: the first favourite out of the whole Belgravian harem.

  No young woman of this year has come near her: those of past seasons she

  has distanced and utterly put to shame. Miss Blackcap, Lady Blanch

  Blackcap's daughter, was (as perhaps you are not aware) considered by her

  mamma the great beauty of last season; and it was considered rather

  shabby of the young Marquis of Farintosh to leave town without offering

  to change Miss Blackcap's name. Heaven bless you! this year Farintosh

  will not look at Miss Blackcap! He finds people at home when (ha! I see

  you wince, my suffering innocent!)--when he calls in Queen Street; yes,

  and Lady Kew, who is one of the cleverest women in England, will listen

  for hours to Lord Farintosh's conversation; than whom the Rotten Row of

  Hyde Park cannot show a greater booby. Miss Blackcap may retire, like

  Jephthah's daughter, for all Farintosh will relieve her. Then, my dear

  fellow, there were, as possibly you do not know, Lady Hermengilde and

  Lady Yseult, Lady Rackstraw's lovely twins, whose appearance created such

  a sensation at Lady Hautbois' first--was it her first or was it her

  second?--yes, it was her second--breakfast. Whom weren't they going to

  marry? Crackthorpe as mad, they said, about both.--Bustington, Sir John

  Fobsby, the young Baronet with the immense Northern property--the Bishop

  of Windsor was actually said to be smitten with one of them, but did not

  like to offer, as her present M--y, like Qu--n El-z-b-th of gracious

  memory, is said to object to bishops, as bishops, marrying. Where is

  Bustington? Where is Crackthorpe? Where is Fobsby, the young Baronet of

  the North? My dear fellow, when those two girls come into a room now,

  they make no more sensation than you or I. Miss Newcome has carried their

  admirers away from them: Fobsby has actually, it is said, proposed for

  her: and the real reason of that affair between Lord Bustington and

  Captain Crackthorpe of the Royal Horse Guards Green, was a speech of

  Bustington's, hinting that Miss Newcome had not behaved well in throwing

  Lord Kew over. Don't you know what old Lady Kew will do with this girl,

  Clive? She will marry Miss Newcome to the best man. If a richer and

  better parti than Lord Farintosh presents himself--then it will be

  Farintosh's turn to find that Lady Kew is not at home. Is there any young

  man in the Peerage unmarried and richer than Farintosh? I forget. Why

  does not some one publish a list of the young male nobility and

  baronetage, their names, weights, and probable fortunes? I don't mean for

  the matrons of Mayfair--they have the list by heart and study it in

  secret--but for young men in the world; so that they may know what their

  chances are, and who naturally has the pull over them. Let me see--there

  is young Lord Gaunt, who will have a great fortune, and is desirable

  because you know his father is locked up--but he is only ten years old--

  no--they can scarcely bring him forward as Farintosh's rival.

  "You look astonished, my poor boy? You think it is wicked in me to talk

  in this brutal way about bargain and sale; and say that your heart's

  darling is, at this minute, being paced up and down the Mayfair market to

  be taken away by the best bidder. Can you count purses with Sultan

  Farintosh? Can you compete even with Sir John Fobsby of the North? What I

  say is wicked and worldly, is it? So it is; but it is true, as true as

  Tattersall's--as true as Circassia or Virginia. Don't you know that the

  Circassian girls are proud of their bringing up, and take rank according

  to the prices which they fetch? And you go and buy yourself some new

  clothes, and a fifty-pound horse, and put a penny rose in your

  button-hole, and ride past her window, and think to win this prize? Oh,

  you idiot! A pe
nny rosebud! Put money in your purse. A fifty-pound hack

  when a butcher rides as good a one!--Put money in your purse. A brave

  young heart, all courage and love and honour! Put money in thy purse--

  t'other coin don't pass in the market--at least, where old Lady Kew has

  the stall."

  By these remonstrances, playful though serious, Clive's adviser sought to

  teach him wisdom about his love affair; and the advice was received as

  advice upon those occasions usually is.

  After calling thrice and writing to Miss Newcome, there came a little

  note from that young lady, saying, "Dear Clive,--We were so sorry we were

  out when you called. We shall be at home to-morrow at lunch, when Lady

  Kew hopes you will come, and see yours ever, E. N."

  Clive went--poor Clive! He had the satisfaction of shaking Ethel's hand

  and a finger of Lady Kew; of eating a mutton-chop in Ethel's presence; of

  conversing about the state of art at Rome with Lady Kew, and describing

  the last works of Gibson and Macdonald. The visit lasted but for half an

  hour. Not for one minute was Clive allowed to see Ethel alone. At three

  o'clock Lady Kew's carriage was announced, and our young gentleman rose

  to take his leave, and had the pleasure of seeing the most noble Peer,

  Marquis of Farintosh and Earl of Rossmont, descend from his lordship's

  brougham and enter at Lady Kew's door, followed by a domestic bearing a

  small stack of flowers from Covent Garden.

  It befell that the good-natured Lady Fareham had a ball in these days;

  and meeting Clive in the Park, her lord invited him to the entertainment.

  Mr. Pendennis had also the honour of a card. Accordingly Clive took me up

  at Bays's, and we proceeded to the ball together.

  The lady of the house, smiling upon all her guests, welcomed with

  particular kindness her young friend from Rome. "Are you related to the

  Miss Newcome, Lady Anne Newcome's daughter? Her cousin? She will be here

  to-night." Very likely Lady Fareham did not see Clive wince and blush at

  this announcement, her ladyship having to occupy herself with a thousand

  other people. Clive found a dozen of his Roman friends in the room,

  ladies young and middle-aged, plain and handsome, all glad to see his

  kind face. The house was splendid; the ladies magnificently dressed; the

  ball beautiful, though it appeared a little dull until that event took

  place whereof we treated two pages back (in the allegory of Mr. Tomkins

  and Miss Hopkins), and Lady Kew and her granddaughter made their

  appearance.

  That old woman, who began to look more and more like the wicked fairy of

  the stories, who is not invited to the Princess's Christening Feast, had

  this advantage over her likeness, that she was invited everywhere; though

  how she, at her age, could fly about to so many parties, unless she was a

  fairy, no one could say. Behind the fairy, up the marble stairs, came the

  most noble Farintosh, with that vacuous leer which distinguishes his

  lordship. Ethel seemed to be carrying the stack of flowers which the

  Marquis had sent to her. The noble Bustington (Viscount Bustington, I

  need scarcely tell the reader, is the heir of the house of Podbury), the

  Baronet of the North, the gallant Crackthorpe, the first men in town, in

  a word, gathered round the young beauty, forming her court; and little

  Dick Hitchin, who goes everywhere, you may be sure was near her with a

  compliment and a smile. Ere this arrival, the twins had been giving

  themselves great airs in the room--the poor twins! when Ethel appeared

  they sank into shuddering insignificance, and had to put up with the

  conversation and attentions of second-rate men, belonging to second-rate

  clubs in heavy dragoon regiments. One of them actually walked with a

  dancing barrister; but he was related to a duke, and it was expected the

  Lord Chancellor would give him something very good.