Part 13 (1/2)

”Egad! I 'd as soon be a bachelor,” broke in MacNaghten, ”if I only were to look at my wife with an opera-gla.s.s across the theatre, or be permitted to kiss her kid glove on her birthday.”

”What he say,--why you laugh?” cried my mother, who could not follow the rapidity of his utterance.

”Mr. MacNaghten prefers homeliness to refinement,” said Polly.

”Oui, you are right, my dear,” added my mother; ”it is more refined. And then, instead of all that 'traca.s.serie' you have about your house, and your servants, and the thousand little 'inconvenance de menage,'

you have one whom you consult on your toilette, your equipage, your 'coiffure,'--in fact, in all affairs of good taste. Voila Walter, par exemple: he never derange me for a moment,--I hope I never ennuye him.”

”Quite right,--perfectly right,” said Polly, with a well-a.s.sumed gravity.

”By Jove, that's only single harness work, after all,” said MacNaghten; ”I'd rather risk a kick, now and then, and have another beside me to tug at this same burden of daily life.”

”I no understand you, you speak so fast. How droll you are, you Iris.h.!.+

See there, the Lord Duke and my husband, how they shake hands as if they did not meet before, and they walk together for the last half-hour.”

”A most cordial embrace, indeed,” said Polly, fixing her eyes on Rutledge, who seemed far from being at ease under the inspection, while MacNaghten, giving one hasty glance through the window, s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat and left the room. He pa.s.sed rapidly down the stairs, crossed the hall, and was just leaving the house when my father met him.

”The very man I wanted, Dan,” cried he; ”come to my room with me for a few minutes.”

As they entered the room, my father turned the key in the door, and said,--

”We must not be interrupted, for I want to have a little talk with you.

I have just parted with the Duke--”

”I know it,” broke in Dan, ”I saw you shake hands; and it was that made me hurry downstairs to meet you.”

My father flushed up suddenly, and it was not till after a few seconds he was collected enough to continue.

”The fact is, Dan,” said he, ”this gathering of the clans has been a most unlucky business, after all. There's no telling how it might have turned out, with favorable weather and good sport; but caged up together, the menagerie has done nothing but growl and show their teeth; and, egad! very little was wanting to have set them all by the ears in open conflict.”

MacNaghten shrugged his shoulders, without speaking.

”It's an experiment I 'll a.s.suredly never try again,” continued my father; ”for whether it is that I have forgotten Irishmen, or that they are not what they used to be, but all has gone wrong.”

”Your own fault, Watty. You were far too anxious about it going right; and whenever a man wants to usurp destiny, he invariably books himself for a 'break down.' You tried, besides, what no tact nor skill could manage. You wanted grand people to be grand, and witty people to be witty, and handsome people to look beautiful. Now, the very essence of a party like this is, to let everybody try and fancy themselves something that they are not, or at least that they are not usually. Your great folk ought to have been suffered to put off the greatness, and only be esteemed for their excessive agreeability. Your smart men ought not to have been called on for pleasantry, but only thought very high-bred and well-mannered, or, what is better still, well-born. And your beauties should have been permitted to astonish us all by a simplicity that despised paint, patches, and powder, and captivate us all, as a kind of domestic shepherdesses.”

”It's too serious for jesting about, Dan; for I doubt if I have not offended some of the oldest friends I had in the world.”

”I hope not,” said MacNaghten, more seriously.

”I am sadly afraid it is so, though,” said my father. ”You know the Fosbrokes are gone?”

”Gone? When? I never heard of it!”

”They 're gone. They left this about an hour ago. I must say it was very absurd of them. They ought to have made allowances for difference of country, habits, education; her very ignorance of the language should have been taken as an excuse. The Tisdalls I am less surprised at.”

”Are they gone too?”

”Yes! and without a leave-taking,--except so far as a very dry note, dated five o'clock in the morning, may be taken for such, telling of sudden intelligence just received, immediate necessity, and so forth.

But after Harvey Hepton, I ought to be astonished at nothing.”