"But when I talked of liking to be an heiress," said Lady Anne, "I was not thinking of lovers."

"Certainly.--One is not always thinking of lovers, you know," added Lady Catherine.

"Not always," replied Miss Broadhurst. "Well, lovers out of the question on all sides, what would your ladyship buy with the thousands upon thousands?"

"Oh, every thing, if I were you," said Lady Anne.

"Rank, to begin with," said Lady Catherine.

"Still my old objection--bought rank is but a shabby thing."

"But there is so little difference made between bought and hereditary rank in these days," said Lady Catherine.

"I see a great deal still," said Miss Broadhurst; "so much, that I would never buy a t.i.tle."

"A t.i.tle, without birth, to be sure," said Lady Anne, "would not be so well worth buying; and as birth certainly is not to be bought--"

"And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy," said Miss Broadhurst, "unless I could be sure to have it with all the politeness, all the n.o.ble sentiments, all the magnanimity, in short, all that should grace and dignify high birth."

"Admirable!" said Lord Colambre. Grace Nugent smiled.

"Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother in mind, I must go away?"

"I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it," said his lordship.

"Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?" said Lady Anne. "Miss Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in spite of her hoa.r.s.eness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with us. And here she comes, Lady Catherine."

My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broadhurst would not think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon to stay. Lady Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son a.s.sisted Grace Nugent most carefully in _shawling_ the young heiress--his lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young lady's having stayed three quarters, instead of half an hour--a circ.u.mstance which Lady Catherine did not fail to remark.

The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady Clonbrony had delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty, began immediately after Miss Broadhurst's departure; and the chalked mosaic pavement of the Alhambra was, in a few minutes, effaced by the dancers' feet. How transient are all human joys, especially those of vanity! Even on this long meditated, this long desired, this gala night, Lady Clonbrony found her triumph incomplete--inadequate to her expectations. For the first hour all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently came the _buts_, and the hesitated objections, and the "d.a.m.ning with faint praise"--all _that_ could be borne--every body has his taste--and one person's taste is as good as another's; and while she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought she might be well satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathc.o.c.k, who, dressed in black, had stretched his "fashionable length of limb" under the Statira canopy, upon the snow-white swandown couch. When, after having monopolized attention, and been the subject of much bad wit, about black swans and rare birds, and swans being geese and geese being swans, the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville said, to vacate his couch--that couch was no longer white--the black impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.

"Eh, now! really didn't recollect I was in black," was all the apology he made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of the Statira canopy should be spoiled before the effect had been seen by Lady Poc.o.c.ke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G----, Lady P----, and the Duke of V----, and a party of superlative fashionables, who had promised _to look in upon her_, but who, late as it was, had not yet arrived. They came in at last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason to regret for their sake the Statira couch. It would have been lost upon them, as was every thing else which she had prepared with so much pains and cost to excite their admiration. They came resolute not to admire. Skilled in the art of making others unhappy, they just looked round with an air of apathy.--"Ah! you've had Soho!--Soho has done wonders for you here!--Vastly well!--Vastly well!--Soho's very clever in his way!"

Others of great importance came in, full of some slight accident that had happened to themselves, or their horses, or their carriages; and, with privileged selfishness, engrossed the attention of all within their sphere of conversation. Well, Lady Clonbrony got over all this; and got over the history of a letter about a chimney that was on fire, a week ago, at the Duke of V----'s old house, in Brecknockshire. In grat.i.tude for the smiling patience with which she listened to him, his Grace of V---- fixed his gla.s.s to look at the Alhambra, and had just p.r.o.nounced it to be "Well!--very well!" when the Dowager Lady Chatterton made a terrible discovery--a discovery that filled Lady Clonbrony with astonishment and indignation--Mr. Soho had played her false! What was her mortification, when the dowager a.s.sured her that these identical Alhambra hangings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho to the d.u.c.h.ess of Torcaster, but that her grace had had the refusal of them, and had actually criticised them, in consequence of Sir Horace Grant, the great traveller's objecting to some of the proportions of the pillars--Soho had engaged to make a new set, vastly improved, by Sir Horace's suggestions, for her Grace of Torcaster.

Now Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant; and she went about the rooms telling every body of her acquaintance--and she was acquainted with every body--how shamefully Soho had imposed upon poor Lady Clonbrony, protesting she could not forgive the man. "For," said she, "though the d.u.c.h.ess of Torcaster had been his constant customer for ages, and his patroness, and all that, yet this does not excuse him--and Lady Clonbrony's being a stranger, and from Ireland, makes the thing worse." From Ireland!--that was the unkindest cut of all--but there was no remedy.

In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager about the rooms to correct this mistake, and to represent, in justice to Mr. Soho, though he had used her so ill, that he knew she was an Englishwoman. The dowager was deaf, and no whisper could reach her ear. And when Lady Clonbrony was obliged to bawl an explanation in her ear, the dowager only repeated, "In justice to Mr. Soho!--No, no; he has not done you justice, my dear Lady Clonbrony! and I'll expose him to every body. Englishwoman!--no, no, no!--Soho could not take you for an Englishwoman!"

All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony enjoyed this scene. The Alhambra hangings, which had been in one short hour before the admiration of the world, were now regarded by every eye with contempt, as _cast_ hangings, and every tongue was busy declaiming against Mr. Soho; every body declared, that from the first, the want of proportion "struck them, but that they would not mention it till others found it out."

People usually revenge themselves for having admired too much, by afterwards despising and depreciating without mercy--in all great a.s.semblies the perception of ridicule is quickly caught, and quickly too revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in her own house, on her gala night, became an object of ridicule,--decently masked, indeed, under the appearance of condolence with her ladyship, and of indignation against "that abominable Mr. Soho!"

Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own, upon her good behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her former imprudence, by abstaining even from whispered sarcasms. She looked on with penitential gravity, said nothing herself, and endeavoured to keep Mrs. Dareville in order; but that was no easy task. Mrs. Dareville had no daughters, had nothing to gain from the acquaintance of my Lady Clonbrony; and conscious that her ladyship would bear a vast deal from her presence, rather than forego the honour of her sanction, Mrs. Dareville, without any motives of interest, or good-nature of sufficient power to restrain her talent and habit of ridicule, free from hope or fear, gave full scope to all the malice of mockery, and all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and arrows, numerous as they were and outrageous, were directed against such petty objects, and the mischief was so quick in its aim and its operation, that, felt but not seen, it is scarcely possible to register the hits, or to describe the nature of the wounds.

Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, are recorded for the advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to look at the Chinese paG.o.da, the lady paused, with her foot on the threshold, as if afraid to enter this porcelain Elysium, as she called it--Fool's Paradise, she would have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the half p.r.o.nounced word, suggested the idea,--"None but belles without petticoats can enter here," said she, drawing her clothes tight round her; "fortunately, I have but two, and Lady Langdale has but one."

Prevailed upon to venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange forms and monsters by which she was surrounded.

"Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!--Well, now I may boast I've been in a real Chinese paG.o.da!"

"Why, yes, every thing is appropriate here, I flatter my self," said Lady Clonbrony.

"And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance of bulls and blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-place and plenty of Newcastle coal in China!--And a white marble--no! white velvet hearthrug painted with beautiful flowers--Oh! the delicate, the _useful_ thing!"

Vexed by the emphasis on the word _useful_, Lady Clonbrony endeavoured to turn off the attention of the company. "Lady Langdale, your ladyship's a judge of china--this vase is an unique, I am told."

"I am told," interrupted Mrs. Dareville, "this is the very vase in which B----, the nabob's father, who was, you know, a China captain, smuggled his dear little Chinese wife and all her fortune out of Canton--positively, actually put the lid on, packed her up, and sent her off on shipboard!--True! true! upon my veracity! I'll tell you my authority!"

With this story, Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the jar, to Lady Clonbrony's infinite mortification.

Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of china jars.

"Ali Baba and the forty thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Dareville: "I hope you have boiling oil ready!"

Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs. Dareville was uncommon pleasant to-night--"But now," said her ladyship, "let me take you to the Turkish tent."

Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the paG.o.da and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to breathe move freely; for here she thought she was upon safe ground:--"Every thing, I flatter myself," said she, "is correct, and appropriate, and quite picturesque"--The company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on seraglio ottomans, drinking lemonade and sherbet--beautiful Fatimas admiring, or being admired--"Every thing here quite correct, appropriate, and picturesque," repeated Mrs. Dareville.

This lady's powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and she found them irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated Lady Clonbrony's air and accent only behind her back; but, bolder grown, she now ventured, in spite of Lady Langdale's warning pinches, to mimic her kind hostess before her face, and to her face. Now, whenever Lady Clonbrony saw any thing that struck her fancy in the dress of her fashionable friends, she had a way of hanging her head aside, and saying, with a peculiarly sentimental drawl, "How pretty!--How elegant!--Now that quite suits my _teeste_." this phrase, precisely in the same accent, and with the head set to the same angle of affectation, Mrs. Dareville had the a.s.surance to address to her ladyship, apropos to something which she pretended to admire in Lady Clonbrony's _costume_--a costume, which, excessively fashionable in each of its parts, was, altogether, so extraordinarily unbecoming, as to be fit for a print-shop. The perception of this, added to the effect of Mrs. Dareville's mimicry, was almost too much for Lady Langdale; she could not possibly have stood it, but for the appearance of Miss Nugent at this instant behind Lady Clonbrony. Grace gave one glance of indignation, which seemed suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a moment ensued, and afterwards the tone of the conversation was changed.

"Salisbury!--explain this to me," said a lady, drawing Mr. Salisbury aside. "If you are in the secret, do explain this to me; for unless I had seen it, I could not have believed it. Nay, though I have seen it, I do not believe it. How was that daring spirit laid? By what spell?"

"By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior spirits."

"Very fine," said the lady, laughing, "but as old as the days of Leonora de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now tell me something new and to the purpose, and better suited to modern days."

"Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of superior minds in the present day, let me ask you if you have never observed that a wit, once conquered in company by a wit of higher order, is thenceforward in complete subjection to the conqueror; whenever and wherever they meet."

"You would not persuade me that yonder gentle-looking girl could ever be a match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville? She may have the wit, but has she the courage?"

"Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage, where her own dignity, or the interests of her friends are concerned--I will tell you an instance or two to-morrow."

"To-morrow!--To-night!--tell it me now."

"Not a safe place."

"The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this--Follow my example.

Take a gla.s.s of orgeat--sip from time to time, thus--speak low, looking innocent all the while straight forward, or now and then up at the lamps--keep on in an even tone--use no names--and you may tell any thing."

"Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London, Mrs. Dareville--"

"Two names already--did not I warn ye?"

"But how can I make myself intelligible?"

"Initials--can't you use--or genealogy?--What stops you?--It is only Lord Colambre, a very safe person, I have a notion, when the eulogium is of Miss Nugent."

Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous duties as a dancer, and had disembarra.s.sed himself of all his partners, came into the Turkish tent just at this moment to refresh himself, and just in time to hear Mr. Salisbury's anecdotes.