My dear Bob,—A thousand pardons for not answering either of your two last letters. It was not, believe me, that I have not felt the most sincere interest in all that you tell me about yourself and your doings. Far from it: I finished two bottles of Hock in honor of your Science Premium, and I have called a short-tailed hack Bob, after you, though, unfortunately, she happens to be a mare.
Mine has been rather a varied kind of existence since I wrote last. A little in the draught-board style, only that the black checkers have rather predominated! I got "hit hard" at the Brussels races, lost twelve hundred at écarté, and had some ugly misadventures arising out of a too liberal use of my autograph. The governor, however, has stumped up, and though the whole affair was serious enough at one time, I fancy that we are at length over the stiff country, and with nothing but grass fields and light cantering laud before us.
The greatest inconvenience of the whole has been that we 've been laid up here, "dismasted and in ordinary," for the last three weeks, during which my mother has made a steeple-chase through the Pharmacopoeia, and the governor finished all the Schiedam in the town. In fact, there has been nothing very serious the matter with her; but as we left the capital under rather unpleasant circumstances, we came in here to "blow off our steam," and cool down to a reasonable temperature. To reduce the budget and retrench expenditure, the choice was probably not a bad one, since we are housed, fed, and done for on the most reasonable terms; but the place is a perfect disgust, and there is actually nothing for a man to do, except to poke into steam-engines and prove gun-barrels.
As for me, I never leave my room from breakfast till table d'hôte hour. My French master comes at eleven and stays till four. This sounds all very diligent and studious, and so thinks the governor, Bob. The real state of the case is, however, different. The distinguished officer of the Old Guard engaged to instruct me in military science and mathematics is an old hairdresser, who combines with his functions of barber the honorable duties of laquais de place and police spy, occasionally taking a turn at the "scholastic" whenever he is lucky enough to find any English illiterate enough to be his dupes. The governor heard of him from the master of the hotel, and took him especially for his cheapness. Such is the Captain de la Bourdonaye, who swaggers upstairs every morning with a red ribbon in his button-hole, and a curling-iron in his pocket; for I take good care, Bob, that as he cannot furnish the inside of my head, he shall at least decorate it without.
I must say this is a most nefarious old rascal, and I have heard of more villany from him than I ever knew before. He knows all the scandal and gossip of the town, and retails it with an almost diabolical raciness. As I have already made use of him in various ways, we are bound to each other in the very heaviest of recognizances. He brought me yesterday a note from Lord George, who had just arrived here, but judged better not to see me till he had called on the governor. The Captain was once Lord G.'s courier, and, I believe, the chief mentor of his earlier Continental experiences.
Lord George has behaved like a trump to me. He has brought away from Brussels all my traps, which, in the haste of my retreat, I had fancied fallen into the hands of the enemy. The brown mare Bob, a neatish dennet, two sets of single harness, a racing saddle, a lady's ditto, three chests of toggery, all my pipes and canes, and a bull-terrier,—the whole of which would have to-day been the chattels of Lazarus, had not Lord G. made out a bill of sale of them to himself, and got two "respectable" advocates to swear they were witnesses to it. The fun of this is, Lazarus saw all the knavery, and Tiverton never denied it! The most rascally transactions are dashed with such an air of frankness and candor, that, hang me! if one can regard them as transportable offences! I know all this would be infamous in England,—it would n't be quite right even in Ireland, Bob,—but here we are abroad, and the latitude warps morality just as the vicinity to the pole affects the compass.
I have learned from Lord George that there are to be races at a place called Spa, about twelve miles off, and that if Bob were in training we might do a good thing among "les gentlemen riders," who certainly ride like neither gents nor jocks. George slipped his knee-cap at a gate the other day, and cannot ride; and how I am to get away from this for an entire day without the governor's knowledge, is more than I can see. I have told the Captain, however, that he must manage it somehow, or I 'll turn king's evidence and betray him; so that the case is not yet hopeless. Bob is exactly the kind of thing to walk into these fellows. She 's very nearly thoroughbred, but has a cock-tailed look about her, and, with a hogged mane and a short dock, is only, to all appearance, a clever hackney. I know well that these foreigners have got first-rate cattle,—they buy the very best of horses, and the smartest carriages of London; but what avails it? They can neither ride nor drive! They curb up a thoroughbred so that he 's thrown clean out of his stride, and they clap the saddle on his withers so that he is certain to come smash down if he tries to cross a furrow. You can imagine what hands they have, when I tell you that they all hold on by the head! Lord G., however, who knows them well, says that there 's no use in bringing over a good horse against them. They are confoundedly cautious, and what they lack in skill they make up in cunning; and if they heard of anything that ran second at Goodwood or Chester, they 'd "shut up" at once. It's only a "dodge" will do, he says, and I am certain nobody knows better than he does.
Whenever they get pluck enough for hurdle-racing, there will be some money to be picked up abroad; but the prosperity won't last, for when one fellow breaks his neck there will be an end of it.
I 'll not close this till I can tell you the success of our scheme for the races. Meanwhile to your questions, which, to make short work of, I 'll answer all at once. It's all very fine to talk about studying, and the learned professions; but how many succeed in them? Three or four swells carry off the stakes, and the rest are nowhere! Let me tell you, Bob, that the fellows that really do best in life never knew trade nor profession, except you can call Tattersall's yard a lecture-room, and short-whist a calling. There 's Collingwood 's got two hundred thousand with his wife; Upton, he 's netted thirty on the last Derby, and stands to win at least twelve more on the Spring Meeting. Brook—Shallow Brook, as you used to call him at school—has been deep enough to break the bank at Hamburg! I just wish you 'd show me one of your University dons who could do any one of the three! If it came to a trial of wits, the heads of houses would n't have houses over their heads. Believe me, Bob, the poet was right,—"The proper study of mankind is man!" and if he add thereto a little knowledge of horseflesh, there's no fear of him in this life!
Look at the thing in another light too. The Church is only open to the Protestants; the bar is, then, the sole profession with great rewards; for as to the army and navy, they may do to spend money in and leave when you 're sick of them, but nothing else. Now the bar is awful labor,—ten or twelve hours a day for three or four years, as many more in a special pleader's office, six years after that reporting for the newspapers; and, perhaps, after three or four struggling terms you drop off out of the course altogether, and are only heard of as writing a threatening letter to Lord John Russell, or as our "own Correspondent at Tahiti"!
As to physic, "I throw it to the dogs." It's not a gentlemanly calling! So long as a fellow can rout you out of bed at night for a guinea, it's all nonsense to talk about independence. Your doctor has n't even the cabman's privilege to higgle for a trifle more. Real liberty, Bob, consists in having no craft whatsoever. Like the free lances in the sixteenth century, take a turn of service wherever it suits you, but wear no man's livery. As Lord George remarks, whenever a fellow takes to that line of life the men are all afraid, and the women all delighted with him; he's so sure with his pistol and so lax in his principles, nothing obstructs his progress.
This same glorious independence I am like enough to attain, since up to this moment I am a perfect gentleman, according to Lord George's definition; nor could I, by any means that I know of, support myself for twenty-four hours. You would probably remark that so blank a prospect ought to alarm me. Not a bit of it! I never felt more thoroughly confident and at ease than now as I write these lines. George's theory is this: Life is a round game, with some skill and a vast amount of hazard; the majority of the players are dupes, who, some from inattention, some from deficient ability, and others, again, from utter indifference, are easy victims to the few shrewd and clever fellows that never neglect a chance, and who know when to back their luck. "Do not be too eager," says George,—"do not be over-anxious to play, but just walk about and watch the game for a year or so, and only cut in when it suits you. By that time you have mastered the peculiar style of every man's play. You are up to all their weaknesses, and aware of where their strength lies; and if you can only afford to lose a little cash yourself at the start, and pass for a pigeon, your fortune is made!" This, of course, is but a sorry sketch of his system; for, after all, it requires his own dashing description, his figurative manner, and his flow of illustration, to make the thing intelligible. He is, in reality, a first-rate fellow, and may be what he chooses. All that I know of life I owe to his teaching; and I own to you I was in the "lowest form" when he began with me.
The only thing that distresses me now, is the fear that Vickars may yield to the governor's solicitations, and give or get me something,—some confounded official appointment that would shut me up all day in a Government office, on mayhap one hundred and twenty per annum, with a promised increase of ten pounds when I attain the age of fifty. I 'd nearly as soon be in the hulks as the Home Office, and I 'm certain that pounding oyster-shells is just as intellectual, and a far more salubrious occupation than précis writing! The dread of such a destiny has induced me to take a rather bold step, and one which it is possible you will not exactly approve of. I have written myself a "private and strictly confidential" note to Vickars, to say that my father's application to him on my behalf never had my sanction nor approval; that I despise the Board of Trade, and hold the Customs uncommon cheap; and that although there are some gentlemen in what they call the diplomatic service, that all the juniors are snobs, and the grade above them—what George calls snoozers—old red-tapery fellows, that label their washing-bills "soap question," and send out their boots to be new soled in an old despatch-bag.
I have added a few lines, by way of showing that my repugnance does not proceed from any disinclination to exertion or an active life, that I am quite ready to accept of a commission in the Guards, or any good post in the household, where my natural advantages might be seen and appreciated.
I have not told Lord George about this, because he is tremendously opposed to my taking anything like office. He says it's not only "bad style," but a positive throwing away of oneself; since, whenever they do get a regularly clever fellow amongst them, they always keep him in some subordinate position. "They 'll just treat you the way they did Edmund Burke," he says; and though I'm not aware how that was, I am quite satisfied that it was a rascally shame! Our name, too, I own to you, in all frankness, is awfully against us. Lord George has advised me over and over to add a syllable or two to it; so I should, perhaps, if I were not living with the governor; but for the present I must submit.
The Captain has just dropped in to tell me that all is arranged,—I am to have a fearful toothache, and be confined to bed for two days; and this, with heavy blankets and nitre whey, will take at least seven pounds off me. The governor is to be seduced into an excursion, to see the works of Seraing. We have contrived to have his card of admission dated for a particular day, and the hackney coachman has been bribed to break down on the way home, and detain him several hours. Lord George is to have a drag ready for me at the outside of Liège at eight o'clock and I hope to figure on the course by twelve! Mary Anne alone is in the secret. I was obliged to tell her, since without her aid I should have had no jacket; but she has cut up a splendid green satin of my mother's, which, with white sleeves and cap to match, will turn me out rather smart, and national to boot. Bob is already gone, and has had her canters for the last four mornings, so that who knows but that we shall do something?
You describe to me the trepidation of heart you felt on going up for honors at college,—the fits of heat and cold, the tremblings, the sighings, the throbbings, and faintish-ness; trust me, Bob, it's all nothing to what one experiences on the eve of a race! Your contest is conducted in secret; your success or failure is witnessed by a few; ours is an open tournament, with thousands of spectators, who are, or who at least fancy that they are, most competent judges of the performance; and if it be a glorious thing to come sweeping past the grand stand amidst the vociferous cheers of a mighty host, to catch the fitful glance of waving hats and floating handkerchiefs as you dash by, it is a sorry affair to come hobbling along dead-lame or broke down, three hundred yards behind, greeted only by the scoffs of the multitude and the jokes of the greasy populace.
Which of these fortunes is to be mine you shall hear before I seal this epistle; and now, for the present, adieu!
Friday Evening I have just an hour before the post closes to announce to you my safe return here, though I greatly doubt if my swelled and still trembling fingers will make me legible. We started at cock-crow, and reached Spa for an early breakfast, having "tooled along" with a spicy tandem the thirteen miles in an hour. Before eight o'clock I had taken a hot bath, and reduced my weight nine pounds, having taken seven rounds of the race-course in a heavy fur pelisse of Lord George's. Twenty minutes more toiling, and some hot lemonade, completed my training, and left me by twelve o'clock somewhat groggy in gait and white about the gills, and, as George said, very much like a chicken boiled down for broth!
Our game was not to bet on the general race, but to look on as mere spectators and see what could be done in a private match. This was not so easy, since these Belgian fellows were so intent on the "Liège St. Léger" and the "Spa Derby," and twenty other travesties of the like kind, that they would not listen to anything but what sounded at least like English sport. We had therefore to wait with all due patience for their tiresome races,—"native horses and native jockeys," as the printed programme very needlessly informed us. "Flemish mares and fat riders" would have been the suitable description.
I had almost despaired of doing anything, when near five o'clock George came up to say that he had made a match for a hundred Naps, a side,—Bob against Bronchitis, twice round the course,—I to ride my own horse, and Count Amédée de Kaerters the other, he giving me twelve pounds and a distance. Not too much odds, I assure you, since Bronchitis is out of Harpsichord by a Bay Middleton mare.
Before I had reached the stand, George had made a very pretty book, taking five, and even seven to two, against Bob, and an even fifty on her being distanced. Still I was far from comfortable when I saw Bronchitis; a splendid-looking horse, with a great slapping stride, light about the head, and strong in the quarters; just the kind of horse that wants no riding whatever, only to be let do his own work his own way.
"The mare can't gallop with that horse, George!" said I, in a whisper. "She 'll never see him after the first time round!"
"I'm half afraid of that," said he, in the same low voice. "They told me he wasn't all right, but he's in top condition. We must see what's to be done." He smoked his cigar quite coolly for a minute or two, and then said, "Ah, here comes the Count! I have it, 'Jim!'"—he always calls me "Jim,"—"just mind me, and it will all come right."
I was by no means convinced that everything was so safe, however; and had I been possessed of the fifty Naps. required, I should gladly have paid the forfeit. Fortunately, as it turned out, I had n't so much money; so into the scale I went, my heart being the heaviest spot about me!
"Eleven two," said George; "we 'll say eleven."
The Count weighed eleven stone four, which, with his added weight, brought him to upwards of twelve stone.
"It's exactly as I suspected," whispered George to me. "The Belgian has weighed himself as if he was a gold guinea. He has been so anxious not to give you an ounce too much, that he has outwitted himself. All that you 've to do, Jim, is, ride at him every now and then; tease and worry the fellow wherever you can, and try if you can't take some of that loose flesh off him before it's over."
I saw the scheme at once, Bob. I had nothing whatever to do but to save my distance to win the race; for it was clearly impossible that the Count could go twice round a mile course, and come in as heavy as he started.
I must be brief, for my minutes are few. Would that you could have seen us going round!—I lying always on his quarter, making a rush whenever I got a bit of ugly ground, and, though barely able to keep up with him, just being near enough to worry him. He wasn't much of a rider, it is true, but he knew quite enough to see that he could run away from me whenever he liked; and so he did when he came to the last turn near home. Off he went at speed, pitching the mud behind him, and making my smart jacket something like a dirty draught-board. It was only by dint of incessant spurring and tremendous punishment that I was able to get inside the distance-post just as the cheering in front announced to me that he had passed the grand stand.
My canter in—for I was so dead-beat it was only a canter—was greeted with a universal yell of derision. To have a laugh against the Englishman on a race-course was a national triumph of no mean order. "It was a 'set-off' against Waterloo," George said.
In I came, splashed, splattered, and scorned, but not crestfallen, Bob, for one glance at my victorious rival satisfied me that all was safe. The Count was so completely fagged that he could scarcely get down from his horse, and when he did so, he staggered like a drunken man.
"Come now, Count, into the scale!" cried Lord George; "show your weight, and let us pay our money!"
"I have weighed already," said the other. "I weighed before the start."
"Very true," rejoined George, "but let us see that you are the same weight still."
It required considerable explanation and argument to show the justice of this proposition, nor was it till a jury of English jocks decided in its favor that the Belgians were convinced.
At last he did consent to get into the scale, and to the utter wonderment of all but the few English present, it was discovered that he had lost something like six pounds, and consequently lost the race.
It was capital fun to see the consternation of the Belgians at the announcement. They had been betting with such perfect certainty; they had been giving any odds to tempt a wager; and there they were!—"in," as George said, "for a whole pot of money."
While they were counting down the cash, too, George kept assuring them that the lesson they had just received was "cheap as dirt;" "that it ought by right to have cost them thousands instead of hundreds, but that we preferred doing the thing in an amicable way." At such times, I must say, George is perfect. He is so cool, so courteous; so apparently serious, too, that even his sharpest cuts seem like civil speeches and kindly counsel. I never admired him more than when, having bought a courier's leather-bag to stuff the gold in, he slung it round his neck, and, taking leave of the party with a polite bow, said,—
"There are times, gentlemen, when one goes all the lighter for a little additional weight!"
I scarcely remember how we reached Liège. It was almost one roar of laughter between us the whole road! And then such plans and schemes for the future!
Luck stood by me to the last. I reached home before the governor, and in time to resume my bandages and my toothache. Mary Anne had taken care to have a very tidy bit of dinner ready; and now, while I sip my Bordeaux, I dedicate to you the last moments of my long and eventful day.
I do not ask of you to write to me till you hear again, for there is no guessing where I may be this day fortnight. Vickars may possibly respond to my request; or I may find some complaisant doctor to order me to a distant watering-place, in which case I may get free of the Dodd family, who, I own to you, Bob, are a serious drawback on the progress and advancement of your
Attached, but now wide-awake friend,
James Dodd.
Dodd père has just come home with a sprained ankle. The scoundrel of a coachee overdid his instructions, and upset the "conveniency" into a lime-kiln. I suppose I'll have to pay two or three Naps, additional for the damage.
One good result, however, has followed: the governor is in such a rage that he has determined to leave this tomorrow.
My dearest Kitty,—I do not, indeed, deserve your reproaches. Mine is not a heart to forget the fondest ties of early affection, nor would you charge me with this were you near me. But how can you, lying peacefully in the calm haven of domestic quiet, "sleeping on your shadow," as the poetess says, sympathize with one storm-tossed, and all but shipwrecked on the wild, wide ocean of life?
Of the past I cannot trust myself to speak, and I must say, Kitty, if there be one lesson which the Continent teaches above all others, it is not to go over the bygone. A week ago, in foreign acceptation, is half a century; and he who remembers the events of yesterday rather verges on being a "bore" for his pains. Probably it is the intensity with which they throw themselves into the "present" that imparts to foreigners their incontestable superiority in all that constitutes social distinction,—their glowing enthusiasm even about what we should call trifles,—their ardor to attain what we should deem of little moment!
If you were not to witness it, Kitty, you could n't believe what an odious thing your regular untravelled Englishman is. His pride, his stiffness, his self-conceit, his contempt for everybody and everything, from good breeding to grammar. Contrast him with your pliant Frenchman, your courteous German, or your devoted Italian; so smiling and so submissive, so grateful for the slightest mark of your favor, that you feel all the power of riches in the wealth of your smiles or the resources of your wit!
And they are so ingenious in discovering your perfections! It is not alone the rich color of your hair, the arch of your eyebrow, or the symmetry of your instep, Kitty, but even the secret workings of your fancy, the fitful playings of your imagination: these they understand by a kind of magic. I really believe that the reason Englishmen do not comprehend women is that they despise and look down upon them. Foreigners, on the other hand, adore and revere them! There is a kind of worship paid to the sex abroad that is most fascinating.
One reason for all this may be that in England there are so many roads to ambition quite separated from female influence. Now, here this is not the case. We are everything abroad, Kitty. Political, literary, artistic, fashionable,—as we will. We can be fascinating and go everywhere, or exclusive and only admit a chosen few. We can be deep in all the secrets of State, and exhausted with all the cares of the cabinet, or can be lionnes, and affect cigars and men society, talk scandal and coulisses, wear all the becoming caprices of costume, and be even more than men in independence.
I see—or I fancy that I see—your astonishment at all that I am telling you, and that you half exclaim, "Where and how did Mary Anne learn all this?" I 'll tell you, my dearest Kitty, since even the expansion of heart to my oldest friend is not sweeter to me than the enjoyment of speaking of one whose very name is already a spell to me.
You must know, then, that after various incidents, too numerous to recount, we left Brussels for Liège, where poor mamma was taken so ill that we were forced to remain several weeks. This, of course, threw a gloom over our party, and deprived me of the inestimable pleasure I should have felt in visiting the scenes so graphically described in Scott's delightful "Quentin Durward." As it was, I did contrive to make acquaintance with the old palace of the prince bishops, and brought away, as souvenir, a very pretty lace lappet and a pair of gold earrings of antique form, which I wanted greatly to suit a moyen âge costume that I have just completed, and of which I shall speak hereafter.
Liège, however, did not agree with any of us. Mamma never slept at night; papa did little else than sleep day and night; poor James overworked himself at study; and Cary and myself grew positively plain! so that we started at last for Aix-la-Chapelle, intending to proceed direct to the Rhine. On arriving, however, at the "Quatre Saisons" Hotel, pa found an excellent stock of port wine, which an Englishman, just deceased, had brought over for his own drinking, and he resolved to remain while it lasted. There were fortunately only seven dozen, or we should not have got away, as we did, in three weeks.
Not that Aix was entirely devoid of amusement. In the morning there is a kind of promenade round the bath-house, where you drink a sulphur spa to soft music; but, as James says, a solution of rotten eggs in ditch water is scarcely palatable, even with Donizetti. After that, you breakfast with what appetite you may; then you ride out in large parties of fifteen or twenty till dinner, the day being finished with a kind of half-dress, or no dress, ball at "the rooms." The rooms, my dear Kitty, require a word or two of description. They are a set of six or seven salons of considerable size, and no mean pretension as to architecture; at least, the ceilings are very handsome, and the architraves of doors and windows display a vast deal of ornament, but so dirty, so shamefully, shockingly dirty, it is incredible to say! In some there are newspapers; in others they talk; in one large apartment there is dancing; but the rush and recourse of all seem to two chambers, where they play at rouge-et-noir and roulette.
I only took a passing peep at this pandemonium, and was shocked at the unshaven and ill-cared-for aspect of the players, who really, to my eyes, appeared like persons in great poverty; and, indeed, Lord George informs me that the frequenters of this place are a very inferior class to those who resort to Ems and Baden.
I was not very sorry to get away from this; for, independently of other reasons, pa had made us very remarkable—I had almost said very ridiculous—before the first week was over. In order to prevent James from frequenting the play-room, papa stationed himself at the door, where he sat, with a great stick before him, from twelve o'clock every day till the same hour at night,—a piece of eccentricity that of course drew public attention to him, and made us all the subject of impertinent remarks, and indeed of some practical jokes: such as sudden alarms of fire, anonymous letters, and other devices, to seduce him from his watch.
It was, therefore, an inexpressible relief to me to hear that we were off for Cologne,—that city of sweet waters and a glorious cathedral!—though I must own to you, Kitty, that in the first of these two attractions the place is disappointing. The manufacturers of the far-famed perfume would seem so successfully to have extracted the odor of the richly gifted flowers, that they have actually left nothing endurable by human nose! Of all the towns in Europe, it is, they tell, the very worst in this respect; and even papa, who between snuff and nerves long inured to Irish fairs and quarter sessions, is tolerably indifferent,—even he said that he felt it "rather close and stuffy."
As for the cathedral, dearest, I have no words to convey my sensations of awe, wonderment, and worship. Yes, Kitty, it was a sense of soft devotional bewilderment,—a kind of deliciously pious rapture I felt come over me, as I sat in a dark recess of this glorious building, the rich organ notes pealing through the vaulted aisles, and floating upwards towards the fretted roof. Even Lord George—that volatile spirit—could not resist the influence of the spot, and he pressed my hand in the fervor of his feelings,—a liberty, I need scarcely tell you, he never would have ventured on under less exciting circumstances.
Shall I own to you, Kitty, that this sign of emotion on his part emboldened me to a step that you will call one of daring heroism? I could not, however, resist the temptation of contrasting the solemn grandeur and gorgeous sublimity of our Church with the cold, unimpressive nakedness of his. The theme, the spot, the hour,—all seemed to inspire me, Kitty; and I suppose I must have pleaded eloquently, for his hand trembled, his head drooped, and almost fell upon my shoulder. I told him repeatedly that it was his reason I wished to convince,—that I neither desired to captivate his imagination nor engage his heart.
"And why not my heart?" cried he, passionately. "Is it that—"
Oh, Kitty, who can tell what he would have said next, if a dirty little acolyte had not whisked round the corner and begged of us to move away and let him light two tapers beside a skull in a glass case? The officious little wretch might, at least, have waited till we had gone away; but no, nothing would do for him but he must illuminate his bones that very instant, and thus, probably, was lost to me forever the un speakable triumph I had all but accomplished.
We arose and set out in search of our party, who were, it appeared, in quest of papa: nor was it for two hours that we found him. He had ascended the tower with us all, but instead of coming down when we did, he took a short turn on the leads, and, finding the door closed on his return, remained a prisoner there during all the time we were in search of him. There is no saying how much longer he might have passed in this captivity—for all his cries and shouts were unheard—had he not hit upon an expedient, not entirely devoid of danger, for his rescue. This was to tear off any loose tiles he could find, and hurl them over into the street beneath. Why and how nobody was killed by it we cannot guess, for it is a most crowded thoroughfare, and actually crammed with stalls of fruit and vegetables. The buttresses and projections of the cathedral probably arrested many of the missiles in their flight; but one, thrown I conjecture with extraordinary force, came bang on the roof of the archbishop's carriage, just as his Grace had got in, the noise and the shock almost depriving him of consciousness! Papa, however, knew nothing of all this, and was actually hard at work detaching a lead gutter when they rushed up and apprehended him.
It was almost an hour before we could come to anything like a reasonable explanation of the incident, for papa insisted that he was the aggrieved person throughout, and raved about his action for false imprisonment. The dean of the cathedral demanded a handsome sum for reparation, and threw in a sly word about "sacrilege" if we demurred. Mamma, still weak and delicate, took to hysterics, while a considerable mob outside gave token of preparation to maltreat us on our exit. Under all these adverse conjunctures we thought it wiser to remain where we were till night; so we sent for something to the hotel, and made ourselves comfortable in the sacristan's room, where, the first shock over, we grew both merry and happy, Lord G., as usual, being the life of our party, by that buoyant exhilaration that really, Kitty, is the first of all nature's gifts.
I already guess whither your thoughts are carrying you, Kitty! Have I not divined aright? You are calling to mind the night we passed at the old windmill at Gariff, when the bridge was earned away by the flood I I vow to you it was uppermost in my own thoughts too! It was there Peter first told me of his love! Never till that moment had I the slightest suspicion of his feeling towards me. I was young, artless, and confiding,—a mere child of nature! Indeed, I must say that he was not blameless in taking the advantage he did of my fresh and unsuspecting heart! What knew I of the world? How could I anticipate the position I was yet to hold in society, or how measure the degree of presumption by which he aspired to my hand?
He has many excellent qualities of head and heart. I do not deny it; but the deceit he thus practised on me I can never forget I do not desire that you should tell him so. No, Kitty. The likelihood is that we may never meet again; and I do not wish that one harsh thought should mar the memory of the past! It may be that at some future time I can befriend and serve him; and he may rest assured that no station of life, however exalted and brilliant, will separate me from the ties of early friendship. Even now, I am certain, Lord George would oblige me on his behalf. Do you think, or could you ascertain, whether he would like to go out as surgeon to a convict ship? They tell me that these are excellent appointments, and admirably suited to young men of enterprising habits and no friends; and that, if they settle in the colony, they get several thousand acres of land, and as many natives as they can catch. From what I can learn, it would suit P. B., for he was always of a romantic turn, and fond of mutton.
How my wandering fancies have led me away! Where was I? Oh, in the little vaulted chamber of the sacristan, with its quaint old wainscot and its one narrow window, dim and many-paned! It was midnight before we left it to return to our hotel, and then the streets were quite deserted, and we walked along in silent thoughtfulness, I leaning on Lord G.'s arm, and wishing—I know not well why—that we had two miles to go!
We are stopping at the "Emperor," a very fine hotel that looks out upon the Rhine, and, as my window overhangs the river, I sat and gazed upon the rushing waters till nigh daybreak, occasionally adding a line to this scrawl to my dearest Kitty, and then wafting a sigh to the night-breeze as it stole along.
And now, at length, and after all these windings and digressions, X come to what I promised to speak of in the early pail of this rambling epistle. We were at breakfast on the morning after what Lord G. calls our "cathedral service,"—for he persists in quizzing about it, and says that pa was practising to become a "minor canon," when a very handsome travelling-carriage drove up to the hotel door, attracting us all to the windows by the noise and clatter. It was one of those handsome britschkas, Kitty, that at once bespeak the style of their owner; scrupulously plain and quiet,—almost Quaker-like in simplicity, but elegant in form, and surrounded with all that luxury of cases and imperials that show the traveller carries every indulgence and comfort along with him.
There was no courier, but a very smartly dressed maid, evidently French, occupied the rumble. While we stood speculating as to the new arrival, Lord George broke out with a sudden exclamation of astonishment and delight, and rushed downstairs. The next moment he was at the side of the carriage, from which a very fair, white hand was extended to him. It was very easy to see, by his air and manner, that he was on the most intimate terms with the fair traveller; nor was it difficult to detect, by the gestures of the landlord, that he was deploring the crowded state of the hotel, and the impossibility of affording accommodation. As is usual on such occasions, a considerable crowd had gathered,—beggars, loungers, luggage-porters, waiters, and stablemen, who all eagerly poked their heads into the carriage, and seemed to take a lively interest in what was going forward, to escape from whose impertinent curiosity Lord G. entreated the lady to alight.
To this she consented, and we saw a very elegant-looking person, in a kind of half-mourning, descend from the carriage, displaying what James called a "stunning foot and ankle" as she alighted. We had no time to resume our seats at the breakfast-table, when Lord George rushed in, saying, "Only think, there 's Mrs. Gore Hampton arrived, and not a place to put her head in! Her stupid courier has, they say, gone on to Bonn, although she told him she meant to stay some days here."
Now, my dearest Kitty, I blush to own that not one of us had ever heard of Mrs. Gore Hampton till that hour, although unquestionably, from the way Lord George announced the name, she was as well known in the great world as Albert Prince of Wales and the rest of the Royal Family. We, of course, however, did not exhibit our ignorance, but deplored and regretted and sorrowed over her misfortune, as though it had been what the "Times" calls "a shocking case of destitution."
"It just shows," said Lord George, as he walked hurriedly to and fro, rubbing his hands through his hair in distraction, "that with every accident of fortune that can befall human beings,—rank, wealth, beauty, and accomplishment,—one is not exempt from the annoyances of life. If a man were to have laid a bet at Brookes's, that Mrs. Gore Hampton would be breakfasting in the public room of an hotel on the Rhine on such a day, he 'd have netted a pretty smart sum by the odds."
"And is she?" cried three or four of us together. "Is that possible?"
"It will be an accomplished fact, as the French say, in about ten minutes," cried he, "for there is really not a corner unoccupied in the hotel."
We looked at each other, Kitty, for some seconds in silence, and then, as if by a common impulse, every eye was turned towards papa. Whatever his feelings, I cannot pretend to guess, but he evidently shrank from our scrutiny, for he opened the "Galignani," and entrenched himself behind it.
"I'm sure that either Mary Anne or Cary," broke in mamma, "would willingly give up her room."
"Oh! delighted,—but too happy too oblige," cried we together. But Lord George stopped us. "That's the worst of it; she is so timid, so fearful of giving trouble, and especially when she is not acquainted, that I 'm certain she could not bring herself to occasion all this inconvenience."
"But it will be none whatever. If she could be content with one room—"
"One room!" cried he,—"one room is a palace at such a moment But that is precisely the value of the sacrifice."
We assured him, again and again, that we thought nothing of it; that the opportunity of serving any friend of his—not to speak of one so worthy of every attention—was an ample recompense for such a trifling inconvenience. We became eloquent and entreating, and at last, I actually believe, we had to importune him at least to give the lady herself the choice of accepting our proposition.
"Be it so," cried he, suddenly; and, starting up, hurried downstairs to convey our message.
When he had left the room, we sat staring at each other, as if profoundly conscious that we had done something very magnanimous and very splendid, and yet at the same time not quite satisfied that we had done it in the right way. Mamma suggested that papa ought to have gone down himself with our offer. He, on the contrary, said that it was her business, or that of one of the girls. James was of opinion that a civil note would be the proper thing. "Mrs. Kenny James Dodd, of Dodsborough, presents her respectful compliments," and so forth,—thus giving us the opportunity of mentioning our ancestral seat, not to speak of the advantage of rounding off a monosyllabic name with a sonorous termination. James defended his opinion so successfully that I actually fetched my writing-desk and opened it on the breakfast-table, when Lord George flung wide the door, and announced "Mrs. Gore Hampton."
You may judge of our confusion, when I tell you that mamma was in her dressing-gown and without her cap; papa in his shocking old flannel robe de chambre, with the brown spots, which he calls his "Leprosy," and a pair of fur boots that he wears over his trousers, giving him the look of the Russian ferryman we see in the vignette of "Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia;" Cary and I in curl-papers, and "not fastened;" and James in a sailor's check shirt and Russia-duck trousers, with a red sash round him, and an enormous pipe in his hand,—a picturesque group, if not a pleasing one. I mention these details, dearest Kitty, less as to any relation they bear to ourselves, than for the sake of commemorating the inimitable tact of our accomplished visitor. To any one of less perfect breeding the situation might have seemed awkward,—almost, indeed, ludicrous. Mamma's efforts to make her scanty drapery extend to the middle of her legs; papa's struggles to hide his feet; James's endeavors to escape by an impracticable door; and Cary and myself blushing as we tried to shake out our curls,—made up a scene that anything short of courtly good manners might have laughed at.
In this trying emergency she was perfect. The easy grace of her step, the elegant quietude of her manner, the courtesy with which she acknowledged what she termed "our most thoughtful kindness," were actual fascinations. It seemed as if she really carried into the room with her an atmosphere of good breeding, for we, magically as it were, forgot all about the absurdities of our appearance. Mamma thought no more of her almost Highland costume, papa crossed his legs with the air of an old elephant, and James leaned over the back of a chair to converse with her, as if he had been a captain of the Coldstreams in full uniform. To say that she was charming, Kitty, is nothing; for, besides being almost perfectly beautiful, there is a grace, a delicacy, a feminine refinement in her manner, that make you feel her loveliness almost secondary to her elegance. It seemed, besides, like an instinct to her, the way she fell in with all our humors, enjoying with keen zest papa's acute and droll remarks about the Continent and the habits of foreigners, mamma's opinions on the subject of dress and domestic economy, and James's notions of "fast men" and "smart people" in general.
She repeatedly assured us that she concurred in everything we said, and gave exactly the same reasons for preferring the Continent to England that we did, instancing the very fact of our making acquaintance in this unceremonious manner, as a palpable case in point. "Had we been at the Star and Garter at Windsor, or the Albion at Brighton," said she, "you had certainly left me to my fate, and I should not have been now enjoying the privilege of an acquaintance that I trust is not destined to end here."
Oh, Kitty! if you could but have heard the tone of winning softness with which she uttered words simple as these. But, indeed, the real charm of manner is to invest commonplaces with interest, and impart to the mere nothings of intercourse a kind of fictitious value and importance. She congratulated us so heartily on travelling without a courier,—the very thing we were at the moment ashamed of, and that mamma was trying all manner of artifices to conceal. "It is so sensible of you," said she, "so independent, and shows that you thoroughly understand the Continent. Travelling as I do,"—there was a sorrowful tenderness as she said this, that brought the tears to my eyes,—"travelling as I do,"—she paused, and only resumed after a moment of difficulty,—"a courier is indispensable; but you have no such necessity."
"And Grégoire apparently wants to show you how well you could do without him," cried Lord George. "He has gone on to Bonn, and left you here to your destiny."
"Oh, but he is such a good, careful old creature," said she, "that, though he does make fearful mistakes, I cannot be angry with him."
"It's very kind of you to say so," resumed he; "but if I told him that I meant to stop at Cologne, and he went forward to order rooms at Bonn, I 'd break his neck when we met."
"Then I assure you I shall do no such thing," added she, taking off her gloves, as if to show how unsuited her beautifully taper fingers, all glittering with gems, would be to any such occupation.
"And now you 'll have to wait here for Fordyce?" said he, half angrily.
"Of course I shall!" said she, with a sweet smile.
Lord George made some rejoinder, but I could not hear it, to this; and so, Kitty, we all determined that instead of at once setting out for Bonn, we should stay and dine with Mrs. Gore Hampton, and not leave her till evening,—a kindness at which she really seemed overjoyed, thanking each of us again and again for our "dear good-nature."
And now, Kitty, I have just left her to hasten off these lines by post hour. My heart is yet fluttering with the delight of her charming conversation, and my hand trembles as I write myself
Your ever attached and fascinated friend,
Mart Anne Dodd.
Hôtel de l'Empereur, Cologne.
P. S. Mrs. G. H. has just slipped, into my dressing-room to say that she is so sorry that we are going away; that she feels as if we were actually old friends already. She has, evidently, some secret sorrow; would that I knew how to console her!
We are to write to each other; but I am not to show her letters to Cary: this she made an express stipulation. She thinks Cary "a sweet girl, but volatile;" and I believe, Kitty, that there is something of levity in her character, which is its greatest defect.