CHAPTER X.
Shakspeare.
Lady Latimer and her protégée were left retiring to dress, and according to generally-established precedent, a full and detailed account ought to be given of the successful result of their labours. But will my fair readers pardon a poor author who owns that it is the dread of their disgust which makes him shun an attempt by which some ignorantly suppose that their favour is easiest won? For though he hopes that, utterly unskilled as he is in these mysteries, he still might manage to avoid such glaring mistakes as those made by some self-constituted authorities on these subjects, who have scandalized the taste of the sex, and volunteered a display of their own ignorance by a description of their heroine either by daylight in the dog-days in a superb dress of rich black velvet, or shining amid December snows in flowing drapery of the finest white muslin; yet even avoiding this Scylla and Charybdis, the writer of these pages is aware he is on dangerous ground. Though he might escape any such flagrant error at the present moment, many months may yet intervene before this meets the public eye; and as he has, like other such ephemeral creatures, his own little unacknowledged hopes of a sort of indefinite immortality, he cannot bear the idea that if he should now so commit himself, when the next return of spring shall enable the universally admitted arbitress of taste to hold her annual court at Longchamp, even on that very day every pretty pair of Parisian eyes would be averted in contempt from this antiquated and old-fashioned page, and as a necessary consequence, as fast as the post could convey the Journal des Modes, that contempt would become universal, not falling alone, as it ought, on his devoted head, but what is of infinitely more consequence, being unjustly shared by the ladies whom he would have thus arbitrarily condemned still to wear the fashions of the bygone year.
He hopes therefore that no more will be expected of him than vaguely to assure his readers that when Lady Latimer had exchanged her travelling-dress, the success of her toilet was justly the admiration of the brilliant circle she found re-assembled to meet her; and that as she was far above any low idea of rivalry, much more than the care which she had bestowed upon her own appearance, had been lavished upon that of the pretty interesting girl who accompanied her, and upon whom she had forced many of her own newest and most becoming ornaments.
Fitzalbert loudly protested that it quite refreshed him to see for the first time any thing so singularly attractive as Miss Mordaunt; but Germain had eyes for no one but Lady Latimer; he had predetermined that she would be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Nature certainly had been a party to this predetermination, and the charm of those perfections which she had borne from her birth was enhanced by that allurement of manner which cannot be described. Combined with the most perfect propriety of deportment, there was, when she pleased, a softened expression in her bright eye, a subdued tone in her musical voice, which, unmarked by all else, conveyed to him whom she addressed, an irresistible impression of interest.
The effect of this was not lost upon Germain, to whose evident admiration she was by no means insensible. He was good-looking, agreeable, and well-informed, and his newness in the ways of the world was rather an additional merit, when freed from the first incrustation of mauvaise honte, which her easy, gentle manners soon contrived to remove.
He was a welcome neighbour to her at dinner, for from the first she had looked forward to her visit to the Boretons as an unpleasant duty, and the set she had found assembled had, with few exceptions, confirmed that expectation. Fitzalbert to be sure was one of her intimates, but then it was the intimacy of indifference. He too seemed for the present very sufficiently occupied in attempting to overcome the diffidence of her young friend, Miss Mordaunt.
Meantime Lady Latimer’s rapidly-ripening acquaintance with Germain suffered no check from her other neighbour, Sir John, who, after he had asked her whether she drank wine or liked a screen, offered no further interruption. Where all this while was the anxious eye of Lady Flamborough, whose worst fears seemed confirmed as to the engrossing nature of her daughter Louisa’s love of admiration? It reposed with some sort of consolation upon the juxtaposition of Lady Caroline and Sir Gregory Greenford, whose unexpected arrival that day had already, as has been noted above, cost him a poney, and now seemed to have exposed him to a renewal of these manœuvres on Lady Flamborough’s part, which the abrupt termination of the London season had inopportunely interrupted.
At the opposite end of the table Lord Latimer and Lady Boreton were mutually engaged with equal art in avoiding to say what they really thought upon a very interesting subject, which had been indiscreetly brought upon the tapis by the literary gentleman from London, unluckily ignorant as he was of county politics. This was no less an event than the long-expected advertisement from Mr. Medium, announcing his intention, on account of increasing infirmities, of taking the earliest opportunity of retiring from the representation of the county.
“So,” said the Londoner, “I see that you are likely to have a vacancy for the county—Who is expected to succeed Mr. Medium?”
This was a most important question, upon which both Lord Latimer and Lady Boreton had settled in their own minds to meditate much, consult cautiously, decide deliberately, and after all this to communicate formally to each other their separate determinations: instead of which they were summarily required in each other’s presence to give an off-hand answer. It was impossible to affect deafness, for though a moment before the clatter and chatter of knives, forks, and tongues, had seemed eternal, just then there had occurred one of those unaccountable pauses which sometimes cause a sudden calm, so that much more gentle tones than those of the pragmatical gentleman who had made the inquiry would have been very sufficiently audible.
Lord Latimer had just drank a glass of wine with Lady Boreton, so that even this ready resource to turn the conversation was no longer open. Luckily, he who had caused the dilemma came to their relief, for not receiving a ready answer to his question, he proceeded with the subject for the sake of introducing which he had propounded it, a critical analysis of poor Mr. Medium’s advertisement; where, to be sure, for so constitutional a statesman, some sentences were cruelly burdened with a “dead weight” of adverbs and adjectives: and pronouns were arbitrarily entrusted with authority over considerable portions of the address, which are usually supposed in such a case to be themselves governed by a verb.
“It is,” continued the critic, “a sufficient proof of the inaccuracies tolerated in our legislative assemblies, that a gentleman who had passed his whole life there, should at this time, being resigning, not have learnt to write better.”
Lord Latimer could not help remarking, in an under tone to Lady Boreton, that a person being criticizing might have learnt to avoid the worst innovation in the style of modern times. He then continued aloud for fear the critical gentleman should again become curious: “Poor Medium, he certainly never was much of a purist.”
“And yet I doubt,” rejoined Lady Boreton, “whether he ever read any book more at a sitting, than others do of a dictionary.”
“Or even of a newspaper,” added Lord Latimer, “than just to see whether the stupid editor had made any mistake in the name of the cover where his hounds were advertised to meet.”
“Well, and what can be more provoking than such a mistake?” said Sir Gregory. Lord Latimer, and Lady Boreton, both felt satisfied that they had succeeded in turning the subject—half the party were soon in full cry with Mr. Medium’s hounds, and engaged in the more interesting enquiry, who was to succeed to them, as chronic gout, and rheumatism, were likely to incapacitate the sufferer from his duties as much in the field as in the House.
But though for the present, the necessity of explanation had been avoided, it did not the less impress both parties with the conviction that something ought soon to be settled on the subject. To induce Oakley to come forward, was, as has been stated before, Lady Boreton’s best hope, Sir John’s insignificance or nonentity being by none more feelingly acknowledged than her ladyship. She had already had the proposal hinted to Oakley, in a manner that she thought the most likely to be attended with success.
Of all the various propositions that can be made to a young man in his situation, there is none as to the motives of which he is so likely to be deceived, or to overrate the advantages of an offer of support, should he be induced to come forward as a popular candidate at a contested election. All Oakley’s defects too, whether of temper or disposition, which made him feel uncomfortable in many of the relations of private life, were so many additional incentives to seek distinction in public, and to make politics his resource. In principle he was a decided advocate for universal liberty, tempered only so far as common sense told him restraint was necessary; but as he was prepared to carry with him, in whatever character he appeared, the same uncompromising contempt for the opinions of any individuals who differed with him, he was more likely to acquire the somewhat sterile fame of a most unbending patriot, than to be a useful partner in promoting any practical benefit to his country.
However, his exalted station in the county, unblemished character, and commanding talents, made it obvious that a more eligible candidate could not be put forward by any party. The zeal and sincerity of his attachment to the popular side marked him as worthy the choice of the people, if his reserve, hauteur, and coldness, in the intercourse of private life, could be so far subdued as to induce him to take the necessary steps towards obtaining their suffrages. Such as he was, however, Lady Boreton was determined to do her best to bring him in; and he had so far acceded to the arrangement, as to consent to join the present mixed party at Boreton Hall, whose places, as they gradually dropped off, were to be filled by more decided county partizans; and the probable success of the attempt, should he come forward, was then to be discussed amongst them.
As to Lord Latimer, his plans were by no means so far matured as Lady Boreton’s. Politics were with him by no means so first-rate a pursuit. He had succeeded to a situation in the world which necessarily entailed a considerable degree of political influence; this he certainly thought it his duty not to abandon, but besides that, the overweening indolence which has been mentioned as obscuring his talents, made him dislike trouble of any kind: but he was, when he could persuade himself to think at all on the subject, by no means an illiberal Tory.
When the question was publicly put as to who was to succeed Mr. Medium, he would have disliked hearing uncontradicted any radical nomination of Lady Boreton’s, lest he should be supposed tacitly to concur in it; yet there were many reasons likely to prevent his taking an active part in thwarting her arrangements.
“Our new neighbour, Mr. Oakley, has promised us the pleasure of his company to-morrow,” said Lady Boreton, carelessly, to Lord Latimer, having first carefully so separated this remark from the previous conversation as to prevent his suspecting that the visit was connected with the object of that inquiry. But she need not have feared any such inference on Lord Latimer’s part, for the mention of Mr. Oakley in the character of their new neighbour gave quite a different turn to his thoughts, and first brought to his recollection the disputed moors above Peatburn Lodge, which had lately been out of his mind, partly from his not having himself been out on the 12th of August, and partly from his thoughts having till lately been much engrossed by important annual business at Doncaster races. It now, however, occurred to him, that in consequence of the transfer of the Rockington property to new hands, a favourable opportunity was likely to arise of effecting an exchange which would remove the offensive intrusion of another man’s ground into one of his best beats.
It so happened, therefore, that though dinner had not promised much pleasure to any of the party, almost all arose from the table with agreeable impressions uppermost in their minds. Lady Boreton anticipated in Oakley an uncompromising patriot; Lord Latimer an accommodating sportsman; Lady Flamborough’s satisfaction was divided between the actual presence of Sir Gregory Greenford and the expected arrival of Oakley, who might, she now thought, do still better for Jane than Germain. The literary lion had had an opportunity of haranguing, and Sir John had not been expected to talk, a state of things that was mutually satisfactory.
Lady Latimer and Germain had been reciprocally pleasing and pleased; and as for Fitzalbert and Miss Mordaunt, it would be difficult to say which had most puzzled and perplexed the other. That a young person like Helen Mordaunt, to whom society was perfectly strange, should be dazzled and bewildered by Fitzalbert’s flow of conversation, was not to be wondered at; but on his part he found it difficult to determine what could be her undeniable attraction. “Is it,” thought he, “merely because she is a remarkably pretty girl, with a very distinguished air?” That it partly arose from her being so perfectly natural, never occurred to him as an additional solution of the difficulty.