CHAPTER VIII.
Shakspeare.
The next morning’s post brought a few lines from Lady Latimer to Lady Boreton, announcing her intended arrival to dinner that day. The intercourse between the two families had always been scrupulously maintained by the regular alternation of prescribed visits; and the acceptance of the expected invitation always was received on both sides with great appearance of satisfaction. Not that much pleasure was ever anticipated by either; but any falling off in their reciprocal cordiality would at once have threatened to disturb the political peace of the county, which was only maintained by a compromise between these two great rival interests.
At the present moment, there were appearances which threatened that this truce would not be of much longer duration; and, following the example of more dignified diplomatists, they redoubled the outward demonstrations of mutual good understanding, as their fears increased that future hostilities would be inevitable. These fears were, in this instance, more sincere than is often the case with some of their national prototypes, which arose probably from this difference in their situation, that if they fought, it must be with their own money, not the people’s; they would have to distribute, not to levy; the gain might be public, but the cost would certainly be private.
However, at the next general election a successor would have to be selected for Mr. Medium, who had announced his intention of then retiring, after having been for thirty years received as an oracle by both parties, principally from his own indecision of character. He had not unfrequently carried the House with him from the mere charm of inconsistency, and been listened to as an orator from a reputation for sincerity, which seemed chiefly founded upon an earnest manner and indifferent English. Such as he was, though he had been a convenient stop-gap, his general leaning to Tory principles had satisfied Lord Latimer, who was not an eager politician, and his occasional effective opposition to ministers had almost consoled Lady Boreton, who was a red-hot liberal.
Those most cogent reasons for keeping the peace, whether of countries or counties—the want of men and money, were both here in full force. Lord Latimer had no younger brother to put forward to quicken his political feelings with the incitement of family distinction, and Lady Boreton could never attempt to produce Sir John on the hustings. On both sides too their finances left no available surplus after current expenses. Lady Boreton’s anxiety to save the county from the disgrace of being represented by two such Tories, had induced her to turn her attention towards Oakley, whose political feelings were supposed to be liberal, and who, from his recently-acquired great possessions, seemed to be the fittest person to put forward. She was very anxious to get him to her house, that she might have an opportunity of sounding him upon the subject, and she the more rejoiced at the super-civility which had induced her to invite Lady Flamborough and her daughters to meet Lady Latimer, as she had some vague hope that the natural attraction between a great party on the one side, and handsome girls on the other, might be ripened into a state of things, which might prevent so lukewarm a politician as Lord Latimer from taking an active part against Oakley.
“You are not yet acquainted with Lady Latimer,” said Lady Boreton to Germain, as her eye once more glanced over the few careless traces of that lady’s pen, which wandered, surrounded by roses and cupids, over the shining surface of her smooth and scented note-paper.
“No, I never had the pleasure of seeing her,” replied Germain, “and shall be most happy in this opportunity of meeting one, of whom all who know her speak in raptures.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Lady Boreton, “a most delightful person; a little, perhaps—” added she, lowering her voice, “a little perhaps spoilt by the world. You have seen Lady Flamborough—well, you may imagine the sort of education that she would give her daughters. Lady Latimer, with all her acknowledged attractions, is singularly superficial, and wants mind, poor thing; and what, my dear Mr. Germain, is social intercourse without mind?—Would you believe it, when I asked her to attend Professor ——’s lectures with me, she said, she was much obliged to me, but she slept very well without them; and when I wished to introduce to her a friend of mine, who had just written a beautiful book, she said—not unless she could shut him up when she liked. Depend upon it, you will find Lady Latimer wants mind. Mr. Alley, I believe the laboratory is ready.”
With this Lady Boreton, left Germain, who had not been so fascinated with what he had seen of her, as not to receive with some reservation of his own opinion, the disparaging account she had given of Lady Latimer.
Strolling into the library in search of a book, he met Lady Flamborough, who had been, she said, to choose some drawings for the girls to copy for her.
“You don’t know Louisa—Lady Latimer, I mean—do you, Mr. Germain?” said she.
Germain again replying in the negative, and again repeating his desire to be able to answer in the affirmative, she continued, whilst she slowly turned over the contents of the portfolio she had been seeking:—“Oh, of course you may imagine, Mr. Germain, how gratifying to a mother’s feelings must be the universal admiration she engrosses, and indeed even I must be allowed to add it is her due. She is reckoned very like Jane; to be sure Madame Maradin says, Jane has much the finest figure, but then, Louisa is not so very young as her sister is. I should say too, that Jane has the most countenance, but then, perhaps, I am not quite a fair judge—I may speak, you know, from a mother’s knowledge of their character, but in my opinion, Jane’s face shows the most sensibility of expression. If any thing, perhaps, Louisa rather wants countenance. Here it is—Guercino’s Sybil. Good morning, Mr. Germain.”
The weather continuing threatening after luncheon, the gentlemen guests of Boreton Park, limited their afternoon’s exercise to a critical stroll through that part of the place which was near the house. One friend of Sir John’s found out, that unless his hot-houses, which had just been finished at an enormous expense, were built upon quite a different principle, they would never be fit to ripen even a crab-apple; one that his thriving and extensive plantations ought all to be cut down, or the place would be too damp for any thing but frogs; another, that the house must be pulled down, and rebuilt in the snug bottom by the trout-stream; one discovered that his new stables were not large enough for dog-kennels; another, that if he had the misfortune to possess such a set of rips as tenanted them, he would turn them all loose rather than that they should cost him another feed of corn; and, as the mizzling rain drove them home, all agreed, whilst they were ascending the broad and easy steps under the shelter of the splendid portico, which marked the centre of the extended façade, that they would not live in such a dirty, damp, dreary hole, if any body would give it to them.
As two long dusky hours yet remained before dinner, and they had already settled the local demerits of every thing by which they were surrounded, it was but natural that they should next occupy themselves with the personal qualifications of those who were about to be added to their number; and as Germain wandered about the different corners of the spacious hall in which they were assembled, various were the little disparaging comments upon both Lord and Lady Latimer which he heard; and though there were none of them of any great importance, yet the avidity with which they were retailed, seemed to him at variance with that deference which he had always heard was paid to them by the society collectively in which they moved; for he did not as yet know enough of the world to be aware that though from any fashionable pre-eminence which made a person conspicuous, it naturally followed that he or she should be often talked of, yet praise by no means followed as a necessary consequence.
On one side, he heard that Latimer was an excellent fellow, but he certainly had done some very odd things—it was a pity! one knew for certain that Lady Latimer rouged; another was quite sure that her foot was not so small as the far-famed one of a celebrated actress. A little further on he found Major Sumner sentimentalizing upon “the unfeeling manner in which she had behaved to his poor friend Colonel Woodbine, who though a most gallant officer, as brave as a lion in the field, was of an unfortunately susceptible nature, and after flirting desperately with him at Brighton, she cruelly cut him when next they met. Poor Woodbine!” added the major, “if it had not been to get over the impression her conduct made upon him, I don’t think that he would ever have gone upon the expedition which proved fatal to him.”
“Where did he go to?” asked Germain; “the tropic or the polar regions?”
“No,” said Major Sumner, “he went duck-shooting in the fens, and got his feet wet. Well, depend upon it, Lady Latimer has no heart.”
Except Germain, almost every body seemed to have some anecdote of Lord or Lady Latimer to contribute, derived from their personal knowledge of them. There were only two other persons in the room, who, it was evident, were not acquainted with either of them; one was a literary protégé of Lady Boreton’s, who had lately written a novel in which a character of Lady Latimer had been insinuated, and the other was a friend of his, a periodical critic, who had persuaded the world of the striking resemblance the character bore to the original.
Any further comments were interrupted by the entrance of lights, which produced a challenge from Fitzalbert to Germain to the billiard-table, that stood in the centre of the spacious hall. Germain did not hesitate on accepting the proposal, though his attention was still much occupied with all he had lately heard, and his curiosity much excited to find out how far his own impressions would confirm it. “Wants mind—countenance—and heart,” thought he, whilst apparently engrossed in choosing his cue.
Germain played well at billiards; Fitzalbert perhaps rather better; but this point had not been decided even as far as the first game, and there was still uncertainty enough about the event, to give interest to the various little bets that had been accumulating as they proceeded, when the grinding of carriage-wheels through the gravel announced an arrival, and the expected guests were ushered in due form through the front door. Germain involuntarily paused, even in the act of taking aim at a dead hazard, in spite of sundry requisitions from those around him to “go on, go on; I’ve backed you to do this.”
Of all the sights and wonders of the world, there is hardly any which one cannot so completely anticipate in idea, by the exertion of a very ordinary share of imagination, as almost to incur disappointment upon actual inspection. To this general rule there is one brilliant exception. A perfectly beautiful woman when first seen, is sure to present some charm which far exceeds any pre-conceived expectation. Such was the impression made upon Germain when raising his head from the billiard-table he first beheld Lady Latimer. She entered, followed by Lord Latimer, and leading on the other side a third and unexpected visitor, whose embarrassment she seemed to be endeavouring to lessen. So thoroughly was this third person protected against the damps of an autumnal evening, that it was impossible for the most critical eye to decide more, than that the little she showed of her face seemed pleasing, and the still less that was seen of her figure appeared young.
As Lady Boreton advanced from an opposite door to meet her guests, Lady Latimer introduced this unexpected addition as “her particular friend, Miss Mordaunt, rather out of health—wrote on purpose to ask to be allowed to bring her, and quite forgot to mention it in that stupid hurried note.”
Lady Latimer evidently thought that she had said more than enough on the subject, and turning aside to address some one else, lost Lady Boreton’s embarrassed and therefore embarrassing reply, which was in words that “she was always too happy to see any friend of hers,” but which in tone rather implied that her house was more than full. It seemed, indeed, to be so felt by the young lady herself, and proportionably to increase that shyness which had been at first evident, so as to prevent her debarrassing herself of the various wraps which completely concealed her from general observation.
“Oh! on no account let me interrupt so interesting a game,” said Lady Latimer, finding that such a proposal had been made by Germain, and objected to by some of the others. “I mean, with Lady Boreton’s permission, to stay and warm my fingers at this fire for more than sufficient time for you to decide it.”
So commanded, Germain resumed his cue, and as he sometimes played with great execution, made a brilliant stroke. “I’ll bet any one five to four on the stick,” said Sir Gregory Greenford, who had arrived that morning.
“I’ll take it five-and-twenty to twenty,” said Lord Latimer, in the mildest tone, and with the most careless manner, his quick eye having observed that Germain played by no means a safe game. Accordingly, his next stroke was a failure. Fitzalbert made much of a see-saw losing hazard at the middle pocket. When that was worn out, and whilst Germain in his turn was taking a deliberate aim, he heard Lady Latimer inquiring who he was. He involuntarily raised his eye from the table and met hers—
“Who says she wants countenance?” thought he; and with that thought he played—missed his adversary’s ball—holed his own—lost the game—Lady Latimer retired to dress—and Lord Latimer pocketed Sir Gregory Greenford’s poney.