Volume I Part 29 (1/2)
”Of course, papa, what many would call in the cognate phrase, marked attentions; but girls who go into the world as I do no more mistake what these mean than would you yourself, papa, if pa.s.singly asked what was good for a sore-throat fancy that the inquirer intended to fee you.”
”I see, Polly, I see,” muttered he, as the ill.u.s.tration came home to him. Still, after ruminating for some time, a change seemed to come over his thoughts, for he said,--
”But you might be wrong this time, Polly: it is by no means impossible that you might be wrong.”
”My dear papa,” said she, gravely, ”when a man of his rank is disposed to think seriously of a girl in mine, he does not begin by flattery; he rather takes the line of correction and warning, telling her fifty little plat.i.tudes about trifles in manner, and so forth, by her docile acceptance of which he conceives a high notion of _himself_, and a half liking for _her_. But I have no need to go into these things; enough if I a.s.sure you Captain Stapylton's visit has no concern for me; he either comes out of pure idleness, or he wants to make use of _you_.”
The last words opened a new channel to Dill's thoughts, and he drove on in silent meditation over them.
CHAPTER XIX. THE HOUR OF LUNCHEON
If there be a special agreeability about all the meal-times of a pleasant country-house, there is not one of them which, in the charm of an easy, unconstrained gayety, can rival the hour of luncheon. At breakfast, one is too fresh; at dinner, too formal; but luncheon, like an opening manhood, is full of its own bright projects. The plans of the day have already reached a certain maturity, and fixtures have been made for riding-parties, or phaeton drives, or flirtations in the garden. The very strangers who looked coldly at each other over their morning papers have shaken into a semi-intimacy, and little traits of character and temperament, which would have been studiously shrouded in the more solemn festivals of the day, are now displayed with a frank and fearless confidence. The half-toilette and the tweed coat, mutton broth and ”Balmorals,” seem infinitely more congenial to acquaintances.h.i.+p than the full-blown splendor of evening dress and the grander discipline of dinner.
Irish social life permits of a practice of which I do not, while recording, const.i.tute myself the advocate or the apologist,--a sort of good-tempered banter called quizzing,--a habit I scarcely believe practicable in other lands; that is, I know of no country where it could be carried on as harmlessly and as gracefully, where as much wit could be expended innocuously, as little good feeling jeopardized in the display. The happiest hour of the day for such pa.s.sages as these was that of luncheon, and it was in the very clash and clatter of the combat that a servant announced the Attorney-General!
What a damper did the name prove! Short of a bishop himself, no announcement could have spread more terror over the younger members of the company, embodying as it seemed to do all that could be inquisitorial, intolerant, and overbearing. Great, however, was the astonishment to see, instead of the stern incarnation of Crown prosecutions and arbitrary commitments, a tall, thin, slightly stooped man, dressed in a gray shooting-jacket, and with a hat plentifully garnished with fis.h.i.+ng-flies. He came lightly into the room, and kissed the hand of his hostess with a mixture of cordiality and old-fas.h.i.+oned gallantry that became him well.
”My old luck, Cobham!” said he, as he seated himself at table. ”I have fished the stream all the way from the Red House to this, and never so much as a rise to reward me.
”They knew you,--they knew you, Withering,” chirped out the Poet, ”and they took good care not to put in an appearance, with the certainty of a 'detainer.'”
”Ah! you here! That decanter of sherry screened you completely from my view,” said Withering, whose sarcasm on his size touched the very sorest of the other's susceptibilities. ”And talking of recognizances, how comes it you are here, and a large party at Lord Dunraney's all a.s.sembled to meet you?”
The Poet, as not infrequent with him, had forgotten everything of this prior engagement, and was now overwhelmed with his forgetfulness. The ladies, however, pressed eagerly around him with consolation so like caresses, that he was speedily himself again.
”How natural a mistake, after all!” said the lawyer. ”The old song says,--
'Tell me where beauty and wit and wine Are met, and I 'll say where I 'm asked to dine.'
Ah! Tommy, yours _is_ the profession, after all; always sure of your retainer, and never but one brief to sustain--'T. M. _versus_ the Heart of Woman.'”
”One is occasionally nonsuited, however,” said the other, half pettishly. ”By the way, how was it you got that verdict for old Barrington t'other day? Was it true that Plowden got hold of _your_ bag by mistake?”
”Not only that, but he made a point for us none of us had discovered.”
”How historical the blunder:--
'The case is cla.s.sical, as I and you know; He came from Venus, but made love to Juno.'”
”If Peter Barrington gained his cause by it I 'm heartily rejoiced, and I wish him health and years to enjoy it.” The Admiral said this with a cordial good will as he drank off his gla.s.s.
”He's all right again,” said Withering. ”I left him working away with a hoe and a rake this morning, looking as hale and hearty as he did a dozen years ago.”
”A man must have really high deserts in whose good fortune so many are well-wishers,” said Stapylton; and by the courteous tone of the remark Withering's attention was attracted, and he speedily begged the Admiral to present him to his guest. They continued to converse together as they arose from table, and with such common pleasure that when Withering expressed a hope the acquaintance might not end there, Stapylton replied by a request that he would allow him to be his fellow-traveller to Kilkenny, whither he was about to go on a regimental affair. The arrangement was quickly made, to the satisfaction of each; and as they drove away, while many bewailed the departure of such pleasant members of the party, the little Poet simperingly said,--
”Shall I own that my heart is relieved of a care?-- Though you 'll think the confession is petty-- I cannot but feel, as I look on the pair, It is 'Peebles' gone off with 'Dalgetty.'”
As for the fellow-travellers, they jogged along very pleasantly on their way, as two consummate men of the world are sure to do when they meet.