Part 27 (2/2)

The party had no occasion to ring, for the hall door was already opened for them, and Mr. Verdant Green was soon exchanging a delightful pressure of the hand with the blooming Patty.

”We were such a formidable party,” said that young lady, as she laughed merrily, and thereby disclosed to the enraptured gazer a remarkably even set of white teeth (”All her own, too!” as little Mr.

Bouncer afterwards remarked to the enraptured gazer); ”we were such a formidable party,” said Miss Patty, ”that papa and mamma declared they would stay behind at the Rectory, and would not join in such a visitation.”

Mr. Verdant Green replies, ”Oh dear! I am very sorry,” and looks remarkably delighted - though it certainly may not be at the absence of the respected couple; and he then proclaims that everything is ready, and that Miss Bouncer and his sisters had found out some capital words.

”What a mysterious communication, Verdant!” remarks the rector, as they pa.s.s into the house. But the rector is only to be let so far into the secret as to be informed that, at the evening party which is to be held at the Manor Green that night, a charade or two will be acted, in order to diversify the amus.e.m.e.nts. The Misses Honeywood are great adepts in this sort of pastime; so, also, are Miss Bouncer and her brother. For although the latter does not s.h.i.+ne as a mimic, yet, as he is never deserted by his accustomed coolness, he has plenty of the ~nonchalance~ and readiness which is a requisite for charade acting. The Miss Honeywoods and Mr. Bouncer have therefore suggested to Mr. Verdant Green and his sisters, that to get up a little amateur performance would be ”great fun;” and the suggestion has met with a warm approval.

The drawing-room at the Manor Green opened by large folding-doors to the library; so (as Mr. Bouncer observed to our hero), ”there you've got your stage and your drop-scene as right as a trivet; and, if you stick a lot of candles and lights on each side of the doors in the library, there you'll have a regular flare-up that'll show off your venerable giglamps no end.”

So charades were determined on; and, when words had been hunted up, a council of war was called. But, as the ladies and gentlemen hold their council with closed doors, we cannot intrude upon them. We must therefore wait till the evening, when the result of their deliberations will be publicly manifested.

__________________

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 191]

CHAPTER IX.

MR. VERDANT GREEN MAKES HIS FIRST APPEARANCE ON ANY BOARDS.

IT is the last night of December. The old year, worn out and spent with age, lies a dying, wrapped in sheets of snow. A stern stillness reigns around. The steps of men are m.u.f.fled; no echoing footfalls disturb the solemn nature of the time. The little runnels weep icy tears. The dark pines hang out their funereal plumes, and nod with their weight of snow. The elms have thrown off their green robes of joy, and, <vg191.jpg> standing up in gaunt nakedness, wildly toss to heaven their imploring arms. The old year lies a dying.

Silently through the snow steal certain carriages to the portals of the Manor Green: and, with a ringing of bells and a banging of steps, the occupants disappear in a stream of light that issues from the hall door. Mr. Green's small sanctum to the right of the hall has been converted into a cloak-room, and is fitted up with a ladies'-maid and a looking-gla.s.s, in a manner not to be remembered by the oldest inhabitant.

There the finis.h.i.+ng stroke of ravishment is given to the toilette disarranged by a long drive through the impeding snow. There Miss Parkington (whose papa has lately revived his old school friends.h.i.+p with Mr. Green) discovers, to her unspeakable disgust, that the ten mile drive through the cold has invested her cheek with purple tints, and given to her ~retrousse~ (ill-natured people call it ”pug”) nose a hue that mocks

The turkey's crested fringe.

There, too, Miss Waters (whose paternities had hitherto only been on morning-call terms with the Manor Green people, but had brushed up their acquaintance now that there was a son of marriageable years and heir to an independent fortune) discovers to her dismay that the joltings received during a six-mile drive through snowed-up lanes, have somewhat

[192 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]

deteriorated the very full-dress aspect of her attire, and considerably flattened its former balloon-like dimensions. And there, too, Miss Brindle (whose family have been hunted up for the occasion) makes the alarming discovery that, in the <vg192.jpg> lurch which their hack-fly had made at the cross roads, her brother Alfred's patent boots had not only dragged off some yards (more or less) of her flounces, but had also - to use her own mystical language - ”torn her skirt at the gathers!”

All, however, is put right as far as possible. A warm at the sanctum's fire diminishes the purple in Miss Parkington's cheeks; and the maid, by some hocus-pocus peculiar to her craft, again inflates Miss Waters into a balloon, and st.i.tches up Miss Brindle's flounces and ”gathers.” The ladies join their respective gentlemen, who have been cooling their toes and uttering warm anathemas in the hall; and the party sail, arm-in-arm, into the drawing-room, and forthwith fall to lively remarks on that neutral ground of conversation, the weather. Mr. Verdant Green is there, dressed with elaborate magnificence; but he continues in a state of listless apathy, and is indifferent to the ”lively” rattle of the balloon-like Miss Waters, until John the footman (who is suffering from influenza) rouses him into animation by the magic talisman ”Bister, Bissis, an' the Biss ”Oneywoods;” when he beams through his spectacles in the most benign and satisfied manner.

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 193]

The Misses Honeywood are as blooming as usual: the cold air, instead of spoiling their good looks, has but improved their healthy style of beauty; and they smile, laugh, and talk in a perfectly easy, unaffected, and natural manner. Mr. Verdant Green at once makes his way to Miss Patty Honeywood's side, and, gracefully standing beside her, coffee-cup in hand, plunges headlong into the depths of a tangled conversation. <vg193.jpg>

Meanwhile, the drawing-room of the Manor Green becomes filled in a way that has not been seen for many a long year; and the intelligent Mr. Mole, the gardener (who has been impressed as an odd man for the occasion, and is served up in a pseudo-livery to make him more presentable), sees more ”genteel” people than have, for a long time, been visible to his naked eye. The intelligent Mr. Mole, when he has afterwards been restored to the bosom of Mrs. Mole and his family, confides to his equally intelligent helpmate that, in his opinion, ”Master has guv the party to get husbands for the young ladies” - an opinion which, though perhaps not founded on

[194 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]

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