"And panting _James_ toiled after her in vain."

At length one course was fairly got through, and after a torturing half hour, the second course appeared, and James Kenny was intent upon one thing, and Lanty upon another, so that the wine-sauce for the hare was spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little chance that the whole of this second course should ever be placed altogether rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat, and nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and sent Lanty after Kenny, and Kenny after Lanty; for what one did, the other undid; and at last the lady's anger kindled, and she spoke: "Kenny! James Kenny! set the sea-cale at this corner, and put down the gra.s.s cross-corners; and match your maccaroni yonder with _them_ puddens, set--Ogh! James! the pyramid in the middle, can't ye?"

The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then it was that the mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and lifting up her hands and eyes in despair, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "Oh, James! James!"

The pyramid was raised by the a.s.sistance of the military engineers, and stood trembling again on its base; but the lady's temper could not be so easily restored to its equilibrium. She vented her ill humour on her unfortunate husband, who happening not to hear her order to help my lord to some hare, she exclaimed loud, that all the world might hear, "Corny Raffarty! Corny Raffarty! you're no more _gud_ at the _fut_ of my table than a stick of celery!"

The comedy of errors, which this day's visit exhibited, amused all the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled, sometimes sighed.--Similar foibles and follies in persons of different rank, fortune, and manner, appear to common observers so unlike that they laugh without scruples of conscience in one case, at what in another ought to touch themselves most nearly. It was the same desire to appear what they were not, the same vain ambition to vie with superior rank and fortune, or fashion, which actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mrs.

Raffarty; and whilst this ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the sport of some of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the reflection that what she was to them, his mother was to persons in a higher rank of fashion.--He sighed still more deeply, when he considered, that, in whatever station or with whatever fortune, extravagance, that is, the living beyond our income, must lead to distress and meanness, and end in shame and ruin. In the morning as they were riding away from Tusculum and talking over their visit, the officers laughed heartily, and rallying Lord Colambre upon his seriousness, accused him of having fallen in love with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the _elegant_ Miss Juliana.

Our hero, who wished never to be nice over much, or serious out of season, laughed with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch the spirit of the jest. But Sir James Brooke, who now was well acquainted with his countenance, and who knew something of the history of his family, understood his real feelings, and, sympathizing in them, endeavoured to give the conversation a new turn.

"Look there, Bowles," said he, as they were just riding into the town of Bray; "look at the barouche standing at that green door, at the farthest end of the town. Is not that Lady Dashfort's barouche?"

"It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year," said Bowles; "but you don't think she'd give us the same two seasons. Besides, she is not in Ireland, is she? I did not hear of her intending to come over again."

"I beg your pardon," said another officer; "she will come again to so good a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear she said or swore that she will marry the young widow, Lady Isabel, to an Irish n.o.bleman."

"Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears, she'll do,"

replied Bowles.

"Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon you for Lady Isabel, she has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she has none, so there you're safe, my lord," said the other officer; "but if Lady Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer."

"But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should have heard of it, for she makes noise enough wherever she goes; especially in Dublin, where all she said and did was echoed and magnified, till one could hear of nothing else. I don't think she has landed."

"I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!" cried Sir James Brooke: "one worthless woman, especially one worthless Englishwoman of rank, does incalculable mischief in a country like this, which looks up to the sister country for fashion. For my own part, as a warm friend to Ireland, I would rather see all the toads and serpents, and venomous reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in his bag, come back to this island, than these two _dashers_. Why, they would bite half the women and girls in the kingdom with the rage for mischief, before half the husbands and fathers could turn their heads about. And, once bit, there's no cure in nature or art."

"No horses to this barouche!" cried Captain Bowles.--"Pray, sir, whose carriage is this?" said the captain to a servant, who was standing beside it.

"My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to," answered the servant, in rather a surly English tone; and turning to a boy who was lounging at the door, "Pat, bid them bring out the horses, for my ladies is in a hurry to get home."

Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths of his horse, and to satisfy his curiosity; and the whole party halted.

Captain Bowles beckoned to the landlord of the inn, who was standing at his door.

"So, Lady Dashfort is here again?--This is her barouche, is not it?"

"Yes, sir, she is--it is."

"And has she sold her fine horses?"

"Oh, no, sir--this is not her carriage at all--she is not here. That is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on a visit. And this is not her own carriage at all;--that is to say, not that which she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast barouche like, as she keeps for the lady's maids."

"For the lady's maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do you hear that?"

"Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!" said the honest landlord. "And this minute, we've got a directory of five of them Abigails, sitting within our house; as fine ladies, as great dashers too, every bit, as their princ.i.p.als; and kicking up as much dust on the road, every grain!--Think of them, now! The likes of them, that must have four horses, and would not stir a foot with one less!--As the gentleman's gentleman there was telling and boasting to me about now, when the barouche was ordered for them there at the lady's house, where Lady Dashfort is on a visit--they said they would not get in till they'd get four horses; and their ladies backed them; and so the four horses was got; and they just drove out here to see the points of view for fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with their gla.s.ses, like their ladies; and then out with their watches, and 'Isn't it time to lunch?' So there they have been lunching within on what they brought with them; for nothing in our house could they touch of course! They brought themselves a _pick-nick_ lunch, with Madeira and Champagne to wash it down. Why, gentlemen, what do you think, but a set of them, as they were bragging to me, turned out of a boarding-house at Cheltenham, last year, because they had not peach pies to their lunch!--But, here they come! shawls, and veils, and all!--streamers flying! But mum is my cue!--Captain, are these girths to your fancy now?" said the landlord, aloud: then, as he stooped to alter a buckle, he said in a voice meant to be heard only by Captain Bowles, "If there's a tongue, male or female, in the three kingdoms, it's in that foremost woman, Mrs. Pet.i.to."

"Mrs. Pet.i.to!" repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught his ear; and, approaching the barouche, in which the five Abigails were now seated, he saw the identical Mrs. Pet.i.to, who, when he left London, had been in his mother's service.

She recognized his lordship with very gracious intimacy; and, before he had time to ask any questions, she answered all she conceived he was going to ask, and with a volubility which justified the landlord's eulogium of her tongue.

"Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back--the day after you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss Nugent was charmingly, and would have sent their loves to your lordship, I'm sure, if they'd any notion I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very sorry to part with them; but the fact was, my lord," said Mrs. Pet.i.to, laying a detaining hand upon Lord Colambre's whip, one end of which he unwittingly trusted within her reach, "I and my lady had a little difference, which the best friends, you know, sometimes have: so my Lady Clonbrony was so condescending to give me up to my Lady Dashfort--and I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship had it in contemplation to cross the seas. But, to oblige my lady, and as Colonel Heathc.o.c.k, with his regiment of militia, was coming for purtection in the packet at the same time, and we to have the government-yacht, I waived my objections to Ireland. And, indeed, though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard all we've heard, you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony, of there being no living in Ireland, and expecting to see no trees, nor accommodation, nor any thing but bogs all along; yet I declare, I was very agreeably surprised; for, as far as I've seen at Dublin and in the vicinity, the accommodations, and every thing of that nature now, is vastly put-up-able with!"

"My lord," said Sir James Brooke, "we shall be late."

Lord Colambre, withdrawing his whip from Mrs. Pet.i.to, turned his horse away. She, stretching over the back of the barouche as he rode off, bawled to him, "My lord, we're at Stephen's Green, when we're at Dublin." But as he did not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its highest pitch, adding, "And where are you, my lord, to be found?--as I have a parcel of Miss Nugent's for you."

Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.

"Cleverly done, faith!" said the major.

"I did not hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town," said Captain Bowles.

"What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your guineas to Lady Dashfort, and to be jockeyed out of another horse by Lady Isabel?"

"Oh, confound it--no! I'll keep out of the way of that--I have had enough," said Captain Bowles; "it is my Lord Colambre's turn now; you hear that Lady Dashfort would be very _proud_ to see him. His lordship is in for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Pet.i.to, Lady Dashfort has him far Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart or hand."

"My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged," said Lord Colambre; "and my hand shall go with my heart, or not at all."

"Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt," said Sir James Brooke. "I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if you can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don't trust to your heart's being engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it would be Lady Dashfort's sport, and Lady Isabel's joy, to make you break your engagement, and break your mistress's heart; the fairer, the more amiable, the more beloved, the greater the triumph, the greater the delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out of the question; neither mother nor daughter would care if you were hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort would herself have expressed it, if you were d----d."

"With such women I should think a man's heart could be in no great danger," said Lord Colambre.

"There you might be mistaken, my lord; there's a way to every man's heart, which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman knows right well, and none better than these ladies--by his vanity."

"True," said Captain Bowles.

"I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity," said Lord Colambre; "but love, I should imagine, is a stronger pa.s.sion than vanity."

"You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,"

said Captain Bowles, laughing.

Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have nothing to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had talked, he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was intent upon that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Pet.i.to said she had for him. He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent his servant every day to Stephen's Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to town. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Pet.i.to could not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre's own, and she would not stir out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer able to restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himself--knocked at Lady Dashfort's door--inquired for Mrs. Pet.i.to--was shown into her parlour. The parcel was delivered to him; but, to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel _for_, not _from_ Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd volume of some book of Miss Nugent's which Mrs. Pet.i.to said she had put up along with her things _in a mistake_, and she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a safe conveyance.

Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name, written by her own hand, in the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared--appeared for one moment, and retired.

"Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from England, my lady--my Lady Isabel, my lord," said Mrs. Pet.i.to.

Whilst Mrs. Pet.i.to was saying this, the entrance and retreat had been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and withdrawn; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to him as she retired; with such a smile, and with so soft a voice, had repeated "Lord Colambre!" that his lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting, could not help saying to himself, as he left the house, "It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress.

And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow before most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as they described her to be!"

A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was with some of his acquaintance at the theatre, when Lady Isabel and her mother came into the box, where seats had been reserved for them, and where their appearance instantly made that _sensation_, which is usually created by the entrance of persons of the first notoriety in the fashionable world. Lord Colambre was not a man to be dazzled by fashion, or to mistake notoriety for deference paid to merit, and for the admiration commanded by beauty or talents. Lady Dashfort's coa.r.s.e person, loud voice, daring manners, and indelicate wit, disgusted him almost past endurance. He saw Sir James Brooke in the box opposite to him; and twice determined to go round to him. His lordship had crossed the benches, and once his hand was upon the lock of the door; but, attracted as much by the daughter as repelled by the mother, he could move no farther. The mother's masculine boldness heightened, by contrast, the charms of the daughter's soft sentimentality. The Lady Isabel seemed to shrink from the indelicacy of her mother's manners, and appeared peculiarly distressed by the strange efforts Lady Dashfort made, from time to time, to drag her forward, and to fix upon her the attention of gentlemen. Colonel Heathc.o.c.k, who, as Mrs.

Pet.i.to had informed Lord Colambre, had come over with his regiment to Ireland, was beckoned into their box by Lady Dashfort, by her squeezed into a seat next to Lady Isabel; but Lady Isabel seemed to feel sovereign contempt, properly repressed by politeness, for what, in a low whisper to a female friend on the other side of her, she called, "the self-sufficient inanity of this sad c.o.xcomb." Other c.o.xcombs, of a more vivacious style, who stationed themselves round her mother, or to whom her mother stretched from box to box to talk, seemed to engage no more of Lady Isabel's attention than just what she was compelled to give by Lady Dashfort's repeated calls of, "Isabel! Isabel! Colonel G----, Isabel! Lord D---- bowing to you. Bell! Bell! Sir Harry B----.

Isabel, child, with your eyes on the stage? Did you never see a play before? Novice! Major P---- waiting to catch your eye this quarter of an hour; and now her eyes gone down to her play-bill! Sir Harry, do take it from her.

"'Were eyes so radiant only made to read?'"

Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so naturally from this persecution, that Lord Colambre said to himself, "If this be acting, it is the best acting I ever saw. If this be art, it deserves to be nature."

And with this sentiment, he did himself the honour of handing Lady Isabel to her carriage this night, and with this sentiment he awoke next morning; and by the time he had dressed and breakfasted, he determined that it was impossible all that he had seen could be acting. "No woman, no young woman, could have such art." Sir James Brooke had been unwarrantably severe; he would go and tell him so.