Volume I Part 28 (1/2)
”Not even corrected as yet,” said the Poet, with a glance at Polly.
What a triumph it was for a mere village beauty to be thus tilted for by such gallant knights; but Polly was practical as well as vain, and a certain unmistakable something in Lady Cobham's eye told her that two of the most valued guests of the house were not to be thus withdrawn from circulation; and with this wise impression on her mind, she slipped hastily away, on the pretext of something to say to her father. And although it was a mere pretence on her part, there was that in her look as they talked together that betokened their conversation to be serious.
”I tell you again,” said he, in a sharp but low whisper, ”she will not suffer it. You used not to make mistakes of this kind formerly, and I cannot conceive why you should do so now.”
”But, dear papa,” said she, with a strange half-smile, ”don't you remember your own story of the gentleman who got tipsy because he foresaw he would never be invited again?”
But the doctor was in no jesting mood, and would not accept of the ill.u.s.tration. He spoke now even more angrily than before.
”You have only to see how much they make of him to know well that he is out of our reach,” said he, bitterly.
”A long shot, Sir Lucius; there is such honor in a long shot,” said she, with infinite drollery; and then with a sudden gravity, added, ”I have never forgotten the man you cured, just because your hand shook and you gave him a double dose of laudanum.”
This was too much for his patience, and he turned away in disgust at her frivolity. In doing so, however, he came in front of Lady Cobham, who had come up to request Miss Dill to play a certain Spanish dance for two young ladies of the company.
”Of course, your Ladys.h.i.+p,--too much honor for her,--she will be charmed; my little girl is overjoyed when she can contribute even thus humbly to the pleasure of your delightful house.”
Never did a misdemeanist take his ”six weeks” with a more complete consciousness of penalty than did Polly sit down to that piano. She well understood it as a sentence, and, let me own, submitted well and gracefully to her fate. Nor was it, after all, such a slight trial, for the fandango was her own speciality; she had herself brought the dance and the music to Cobham. They who were about to dance it were her own pupils, and not very proficient ones, either. And with all this she did her part well and loyally. Never had she played with more spirit; never marked the time with a firmer precision; never threw more tenderness into the graceful parts, nor more of triumphant daring into the proud ones. Amid the shower of ”Bravos!” that closed the performance,--for none thought of the dancers,--the little Poet drew nigh and whispered, ”How naughty!”
”Why so?” asked she, innocently.
”What a blaze of light to throw over a sorry picture!” said he, dangling his eyegla.s.s, and playing that part of middle-aged Cupid he was so fond of a.s.suming.
”Do you know, sir,” said Lady Cobham, coming hastily towards him, ”that I will not permit you to turn the heads of my young ladies? Dr. Dill is already so afraid of your fascinations that he has ordered his carriage,--is it not so?” she went on appealing to the doctor, with increased rapidity. ”But you will certainly keep your promise to us. We shall expect you on Thursday at dinner.”
Overwhelmed with confusion, Dill answered--he knew not what--about pleasure, punctuality, and so forth; and then turned away to ring for that carriage he had not ordered before.
”And so you tell me Barrington is better?” said the Admiral, taking him by the arm and leading him away. ”The danger is over, then?”
”I believe so; his mind is calm, and he is only suffering now from debility. What with the a.s.sizes, and a week's dissipation at Kilkenny, and this shock,--for it was a shock,--the whole thing was far more of a mental than a bodily ailment.”
”You gave him my message? You said how anxious I felt to know if I could be of any use to him?”
”Yes; and he charged Mr. Withering to come and thank you, for he is pa.s.sing by Cobham to-morrow on his way to Kilkenny.”
”Indeed! Georgiana, don't forget that. Withering will call here to-morrow; try and keep him to dine, at least, if we cannot secure him for longer. He's one of those fellows I am always delighted to meet Where are you going, Dill? Not taking your daughter away at this hour, are you?”
The doctor sighed, and muttered something about dissipations that were only too fascinating, too engrossing. He did not exactly like to say that his pa.s.sports had been sent him, and the authorities duly instructed to give him ”every aid and a.s.sistance possible.” For a moment, indeed, Polly looked as though she would make some explanation of the matter; but it was only for a moment, and the slight flush on her cheek gave way quickly, and she looked somewhat paler than her wont.
Meanwhile, the little Poet had fetched her shawl, and led her away, humming, ”Buona notte,--buona sera!” as he went, in that half-caressing, half-quizzing way he could a.s.sume so jauntily. Stapylton walked behind with the doctor, and whispered as he went, ”If not inconvenient, might I ask the favor of a few minutes with you to-morrow?”
Dill a.s.sured him he was devotedly his servant; and having fixed the interview for two o'clock, away they drove. The night was calm and starlight, and they had long pa.s.sed beyond the grounds of Cobham, and were full two miles on their road before a word was uttered by either.
”What was it her Ladys.h.i.+p said about Thursday next, at dinner?” asked the doctor, half pettishly.
”Nothing to me, papa.”
”If I remember, it was that we had accepted the invitation already, and begging me not to forget it.”
”Perhaps so,” said she, dryly.