Volume Ii Part 12 (2/2)
”I really can see no very great merit, my Lady d.u.c.h.ess, in all this; I conceive I only did what I ought to do, and that any one would have done for ladies placed under similar embarra.s.sments as you all were circ.u.mstanced. Permit me to inquire how your Grace likes Brussels?”
”Why, well, Sir David, pa.s.sing well, it is sometimes just a little _triste_, and the atmosphere, to be sure, is somewhat humid, but----”
”And yet,” said Lady Aylesbury, (who had just then arrived,) with a malicious smile, rudely interrupting her; ”and yet, Madam, it has, methinks, proved a very convenient _sejour_ for some _gens de condition_, who have for some years availed themselves of the privilege, when it would not have proved altogether so prudent----yes, Madam; altogether so prudent, to have ventured elsewhere!”
”Oh, true, quite true, Lady Aylesbury, I had nearly forgotten it quite; but for the verity of your remark, _your_ spouse, as well as my own, can fully attest, as both are placed in the same state of peric.l.i.tation!”
Lady Aylesbury looked extremely awkward and mortified at this just rebuke; she bit her nether lip, and hung down her silly head, writhing under the deserved lash which her malicious remark had provoked.
Sir David Bruce, who happened to be at the other end of the room, and seated next to Lady Adelaide, said to her in an under tone, ”Lady Aylesbury is so spiteful and malicious, that I am certain she must be nearly related to Euryale, one of the Gorgons, own-sister to Medusa, who was subject neither to old age nor death!”
”It would indeed appear so, Sir David,” said Lady Adelaide, with a sportive smile.
The Duke of d'Aremberg at this moment entered the room, who was introduced in due form to Sir David Bruce; they conversed together, and seemed mutually pleased with each other.
The Duke d'Aremberg now approached the d.u.c.h.ess of Tyrconnel: ”Pray, has your Grace read the last essay from the pen of----, and what does your Grace think of its merits?”
”As I do, my Lord Duke, of all his writings, which are only calculated to produce mischief, deep, dark, and dangerous; every parent should dread him and his insidious pen--he is the high-priest of infidelity!”
”I knew and antic.i.p.ated this, for I am always certain to obtain a satisfactory and a decided opinion from your Grace, whose just judgment I can so fully rely upon.”
When this praise, so deservedly awarded to the d.u.c.h.ess, met the ear of Lady Aylesbury, with a malicious smile she turned her malignant, envious eye on the d.u.c.h.ess, to observe if her Grace was elated by this praise: but she looked in vain. But these looks pa.s.sed not un.o.bserved by the d.u.c.h.ess, who deeply blushed, conscious of the mal-motives which directed them; and conscious too that she every way merited the praise which was so justly bestowed: she felt pleased, but not elated; she felt conscious of the talent she possessed, but both her judgment and her modesty prevented her overrating them.
The dinner pa.s.sed over pleasantly enough, and the gentlemen not tarrying long over their gla.s.s, soon joined the ladies in the drawing-room. Lady Adelaide was solicited to play and sing, and complied by seating herself at the harpsichord, supported on the one side by the Duke d'Aremberg, and on the other by Sir David Bruce, who was most attentive in turning over the leaves of the music book, and he seemed quite charmed and entranced with Lady Adelaide's singing. Indeed it was not difficult to a bye-stander to discover that this day the Lady Adelaide had achieved a double conquest, and that she held captive the hearts of the duke and the baronet.
CHAPTER X.
I know it well, my Lord--and sure the match Were rich and honourable. Besides, the gentleman Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities, Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.
Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?”
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
A constant round of dinner parties in quick succession was briskly kept up between d'Aremberg palace and Tyrconnel house. The anxiety of the dowager d.u.c.h.ess for the union of her son with the Lady Adelaide was exceedingly great, and unremitting were her attentions and exertions for its accomplishment.
”She would, upon that event,” she often declared, ”contentedly depart from life, resigned in peace, when once her aged eyes had beheld what her soul had so often longed for, the union of an only son with the lovely and transcendently accomplished daughter of the dear and early friend of her youth.” And the fact was, that the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Tyrconnel were equally as anxious in their wishes for the union of their daughter with the Duke d'Aremberg, as his n.o.ble and venerable mother, looking upon the marriage as ”a consummation devoutly to be wished!”
One morning, at an early hour, the d.u.c.h.ess d'Aremberg despatched a note to Lady Adelaide, requesting that she would favour her G.o.dmother with a visit, so soon as might prove convenient, at the conclusion of breakfast, to the Lady Adelaide. ”She was desirous,” as her Grace expressed herself, to speak to her dear G.o.d-child upon a subject which was important to her happiness. She requested, therefore, that so soon as it might prove convenient Lady Adelaide would have the goodness to call upon her old friend and G.o.dmother.”
An answer acquiescive to the above request was returned, and at the appointed time Adelaide waited upon the d.u.c.h.ess d'Aremberg, whom she found seated on a low settee, that which, now varying in shape and elevation, is in our modern days 'yclept a sofa. Before her Grace was placed a small walnut spider-table. Her occupation was knitting a silk purse: for even with the a.s.sistance of spectacles, she found it difficult to read. At her feet reposed upon a velvet cus.h.i.+on her blind and favourite lapdog Fidelle, who, hearing a stranger's steps to enter the chamber, awoke from her slumbers, and saluted Adelaide with a volley of barking, as loudly as age and infirmities permitted.
”Welcome, my dear Adelaide, my dearest G.o.d-child, whom I now gladly embrace; and happy, too happy should I be to call thee by yet still a dearer name than G.o.d-child: I would like to hear thee called daughter and my son's d.u.c.h.ess, while I the world forgetting, shall long by the world be forgot. Yes, my dearest child, I fain would call thee by the still fonder name of daughter, the wife of my beloved son, who from the first moment in which he beheld thee, my dear Adelaide, could no longer call his heart his own!”
Adelaide felt dreadfully embarra.s.sed. She reddened, and blushed up to the very eyes; and indeed some time had elapsed before she could muster up resolution enough to speak her sentiments.
As soon as she recovered her presence of mind, she replied: ”How deeply grateful to the d.u.c.h.ess she felt for her numerous attentions and kindnesses, and above all for the high honour which her Grace had intended for her, but which she must most gratefully, respectfully, but yet most decidedly, decline. She could never--she would never, give her hand, without at the same time that it was in her power to bestow her heart, and that she candidly acknowledged it was not now in her power to give.”
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