Part 64 (1/2)
”On that point,” replied I, ”I will not be overruled. I will not take a lease for more than three years, with the right of continuing if I please.”
The builder perceived that I was in earnest.
”Well, sir,” replied he, ”I hardly know what to say; but rather than disappoint the ladies, I will accept you as a tenant for three years certain.”
Confound the fellow, thought I; but I was pinned, and there was an end of the matter. Mr Smithers pulled out paper and ink; two letters of agreement were written upon a small deal table, covered with blotches of various-coloured paints; and the affair was thus concluded.
We got into the carriage and drove home, my wife and daughters in ecstasies, and I obliged to appear very well satisfied, that I might not damp their spirits; yet I must say that although the house appeared a very nice house, I had my forebodings.
”At all events,” thought I, ”the lease is only for three years;” and thus I consoled myself.
The next day the whole house was in commotion. I believe my wife and daughters were up at daybreak. When I went into the breakfast-room, I discovered that the pictures had been taken down, although there was no chance of their being hung up for many weeks at least, and everything was in preparation for packing up. After breakfast my wife set off for town to order carpets and curtains, and did not come home till six o'clock, very tired with the fatigues of the day. She had also brought the measure of every grate, to ascertain what fenders would suit; the measure of the bedrooms and attics, to remodel the carpets; for it was proposed that Brompton Hall should be disposed of, the new occupier taking at a valuation what furniture might be left. To this I appeared to consent; but was resolved in my own mind that, if taken, it should only be for the same term of years as my new lease. I will pa.s.s over a month of hurry, bustle, and confusion; at the end of which I found myself in our new habitation. It was completely furnished, with the exception of the drawing-room carpet, which had not been laid down, but was still in a roll tied up with packthread in the middle of the room.
The cause of this I soon understood from my wife. It was always the custom, she said, to give a house-warming upon entering a new house, and she therefore proposed giving a little dance. To this, as it would please her and my daughters, I raised no objection.
I have always observed that what is proposed as a little dance invariably ends in a great one; for from the time of proposing till the cards are about, it increases like a snow-ball; but that arises, perhaps, from the extreme difficulty of knowing when to draw the line between friends and acquaintances. I have also observed that when your wife and daughters intend such a thing, they always obtain permission for the ball first, and then tack on the supper afterwards; commencing with a mere stand-up affair--sandwiches, cakes, and refreshments, and ending with a regular sit-down affair, with Gunter presiding over all.
The music from two fiddles and a piano also swells into Collinet's band--verifying the old adage, ”In for a penny, in for a pound.” But to all this I gave my consent; I could afford it well, and I liked to please my wife and daughters. The ball was given, and this house-warming ended in house-breaking; for just before the supper-quadrille, as it was termed, when about twenty-four young ladies and gentlemen were going the grand ronde, a loud noise below, with exclamations and shrieks, was heard, and soon afterwards the whole staircase was smothered with dust.
”What _is_ the matter?” cried my wife, who had pa.s.sed to the landing-place on the stairs before me.
”Ma'am,” said one of Mr Gunter's men, shaking the lappets of his blue coat, which were covered with white dust, ”the whole ceiling of the dining-room has come down.”
”Ceiling come down!” screamed my wife.
”Yes, ma'am,” replied our own servant; ”and the supper and supper-tables are all smashed flat with the weight on it.”
Here was a catastrophe. My wife hastened down, and I followed. Sure enough the weight of mortar had crushed all beneath it--all was chaos and confusion. Jellies, blancmanges, pates, cold roasts, creams, trifles--all in one ma.s.s of ruin, mixed up with lime, horse-hair, plaster of Paris, and stucco. It wore all the appearance of a Swiss avalanche in miniature.
”Good heavens, how dreadful!” exclaimed my wife.
”How much more so if there had been people in the room,” replied I.
”What could be the cause of it?” exclaimed my wife.
”These new houses, sir, won't bear dancing in,” observed Mr Gunter's head man.
”So it appears,” replied I.
This unfortunate accident was the occasion of the party breaking up: they knew that there was no chance of supper, which they had looked forward to; so they put on their shawls and departed, leaving us to clear up the wreck at our leisure. In fact, as my daughters declared, it quite spoiled the ball as well as the supper.
The next morning I sent for Mr Smithers, who made his appearance, and showed him what had taken place.
”Dear me, I'm very sorry; but you had too many people above stairs--that is very clear.”
”Very clear, indeed, Mr Smithers. We had a ball last night.”
”A ball, sir! Oh, then no wonder.”
”No wonder! What! do you mean to say that b.a.l.l.s are not to be given?”