Part 21 (2/2)
”Losing a few guineas!” said Lucy, interrupting him.
”Worse than that,--his practice and his name.”
”Better those than health and peace of mind.”
”Out on you, no!” said Brandon, quickly, and almost fiercely. ”We waste all the greenness and pith of our life in striving to gain a distinguished slavery; and when it is gained, we must not think that an humble independence would have been better. If we ever admit that thought, what fools, what lavish fools, we have been! No!” continued Brandon, after a momentary pause, and in a tone milder and gayer, though not less characteristic of the man's stubbornness of will, ”after losing all youth's enjoyments and manhood's leisure, in order that in age the mind, the all-conquering mind, should break its way at last into the applauding opinions of men, I should be an effeminate idler indeed, did I suffer, so long as its jarring parts hold together, or so long as I have the power to command its members, this weak body to frustrate the labour of its better and n.o.bler portion, and command that which it is ordained to serve.”
Lucy knew not while she listened, half in fear, half in admiration, to her singular relation, that at the very moment he thus spoke, his disease was preying upon him in one of its most relentless moods, without the power of wringing from him a single outward token of his torture. But she wanted nothing to increase her pity and affection for a man who in consequence, perhaps, of his ordinary surface of worldly and cold properties of temperament never failed to leave an indelible impression on all who had ever seen that temperament broken through by deeper though often by more evil feelings.
”Shall you go to Lady--------'s rout?” asked Brandon, easily sliding back into common topics. ”Lord Mauleverer requested me to ask you.”
”That depends on you and my father.”
”If on me, I answer yes,” said Brandon. ”I like hearing Mauleverer, especially among persons who do not understand him. There is a refined and subtle sarcasm running through the commonplaces of his conversation, which cuts the good fools, like the invisible sword in the fable, that lopped off heads without occasioning the owners any other sensation than a pleasing and self-complacent t.i.tillation. How immeasurably superior he is in manner and address to all we meet here! Does it not strike you?”
”Yes--no--I can't say that it does exactly,” rejoined Lucy.
”Is that confusion tender?” thought Brandon.
”In a word,” continued Lucy, ”Lord Mauleverer is one whom I think pleasing without fascination, and amusing without brilliancy. He is evidently accomplished in mind and graceful in manner, and withal the most uninteresting person I ever met.”
”Women have not often thought so,” said Brandon. ”I cannot believe that they can think otherwise.”
A certain expression, partaking of scorn, played over Brandon's hard features. It was a noticeable trait in him, that while he was most anxious to impress Lucy with a favourable opinion of Lord Mauleverer, he was never quite able to mask a certain satisfaction at any jest at the earl's expense, or any opinion derogatory to his general character for pleasing the opposite s.e.x; and this satisfaction was no sooner conceived than it was immediately combated by the vexation he felt that Lucy did not seem to share his own desire that she should become the wife of the courtier. There appeared as if in that respect there was a contest in his mind between interest on one hand and private dislike or contempt on the other.
”You judge women wrongly!” said Brandon. ”Ladies never know each other; of all persons, Mauleverer is best calculated to win them, and experience has proved my a.s.sertion. The proudest lot I know for a woman would be the thorough conquest of Lord Mauleverer; but it is impossible.
He may be gallant, but he will never be subdued. He defies the whole female world, and with justice and impunity. Enough of him. Sing to me, dear Lucy.”
The time for the ball approached; and Lucy, who was a charming girl and had nothing of the angel about her, was sufficiently fond of gayety, dancing, music, and admiration to feel her heart beat high at the expectation of the event.
At last the day itself came. Brandon dined alone with Mauleverer, having made the arrangement that he, with the earl, was to join his brother and niece at the ball. Mauleverer, who hated state, except on great occasions, when no man displayed it with a better grace, never suffered his servants to wait at dinner when he was alone or with one of his peculiar friends. The attendants remained without, and were summoned at will by a bell laid beside the host.
The conversation was unrestrained.
”I am perfectly certain, Brandon,” said Mauleverer, ”that if you were to live tolerably well, you would soon get the better of your nervous complaints. It is all poverty of blood, believe me. Some more of the fins, eh?--No! Oh, hang your abstemiousness; it is d----d unfriendly to eat so little! Talking of fins and friends, Heaven defend me from ever again forming an intimacy with a pedantic epicure, especially if he puns!”
”Why, what has a pedant to do with fins?”
”I will tell you,--ah, this madeira--I suggested to Lord Dareville, who affects the gourmand, what a capital thing a dish all fins (turbot's fins) might be made. 'Capital!' said he, in a rapture; 'dine on it with me to-morrow.' 'Volontiers!' said I. The next day, after indulging in a pleasing revery all the morning as to the manner in which Dareville's cook, who is not without genius, would accomplish the grand idea, I betook myself punctually to my engagement. Would you believe it? When the cover was removed, the sacrilegious dog of an Amphitryon had put into the dish Cicero's 'De Finibus.' 'There is a work all fins!' said he. ”Atrocious jest!” exclaimed Brandon, solemnly.
”Was it not? Whenever the gastronomists set up a religious inquisition, I trust they will roast every impious rascal who treats the divine mystery with levity. Pun upon cooking, indeed! A propos of Dareville, he is to come into the administration.”
”You astonish me!” said Brandon. ”I never heard that; I don't know him.
He has very little power; has he any talent?”
”Yes, a very great one,--acquired, though.”
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