Part 24 (2/2)

'Your dinner is very good,' said Lady Bellair to Mr. Temple. 'I eat very little and very plainly, but I hate a bad dinner; it dissatisfies everybody else, and they are all dull. The best dinners now are a new man's; I forget his name; the man who is so very rich. You never heard of him, and she (pointing with her fork to Mrs. Montgomery) knows n.o.body. What is his name? Gregory, what is the name of the gentleman I dine with so often? the gentleman I send to when I have no other engagement, and he always gives me a dinner, but who never dines with me. He is only rich, and I hate people who are only rich; but I must ask him next year. I ask him to my evening parties, mind; I don't care about them; but I will not have stupid people, who are only rich, at my dinners. Gregory, what is his name?'

'Mr. Million de Stockville, my lady.'

'Yes, that is the man, good Gregory. You have no deer, have you?'

enquired her ladys.h.i.+p of Mr. Temple. 'I thought not. I wish you had deer. You should send a haunch in my name to Mr. Million de Stockville, and that would be as good as a dinner to him. If your neighbour, the duke, had received me, I should have sent it from thence. I will tell you what I will do; I will write a note from this place to the duke, and get him to do it for me. He will do anything for me. He loves me, the duke, and I love him; but his wife hates me.'

'And you have had a gay season in town this year, Lady Bellair?'

enquired Miss Temple. 'My dear, I always have a gay season.' 'What happiness!' softly exclaimed Mrs. Montgomery Floyd. 'I think nothing is more delightful than gaiety.'

'And how is our friend Mr. Bonmot this year?' said Mr. Temple.

'My dear, Bonmot is growing very old. He tells the same stories over again, and therefore I never see him. I cannot bear wits that have run to seed: I cannot ask Bonmot to my dinners, and I told him the reason why; but I said I was at home every morning from two till six, and that he might come then, for he does not go out to evening parties, and he is huffy, and so we have quarrelled.'

'Poor Mr. Bonmot,' said Miss Temple.

'My dear, there is the most wonderful man in the world, I forget his name, but everybody is mad to have him. He is quite the fas.h.i.+on. I have him to my parties instead of Bonmot, and it is much better. Everybody has Bonmot; but my man is new, and I love something new. Lady Frederick Berrington brought him to me. Do you know Lady Frederick Berrington?

Oh! I forgot, poor dear, you are buried alive in the country; I must introduce you to Lady Frederick. She is charming, she will taste you, she will be your friend; and you cannot have a better friend, my dear, for she is very pretty, very witty, and has got blood in her veins. I won't introduce you to Lady Frederick,' continued Lady Bellair to. Mrs.

Montgomery Floyd; 'she is not in your way. I shall introduce you to Lady Splash and Dashaway; she is to be your friend.'

Mrs. Montgomery Floyd seemed consoled by the splendid future of being the friend of Lady Splash and Dashaway, and easily to endure, with such a compensation, the somewhat annoying remarks of her n.o.ble patroness.

'But as for Bonmot,' continued Lady Bellair, 'I will have nothing to do with him. General Faneville, he is a dear good man, and gives me dinners. I love dinners: I never dine at home, except when I have company. General Faneville not only gives me dinners, but lets me always choose my own party. And he said to me the other day, ”Now, Lady Bellair, fix your day, and name your party.” I said directly, ”General, anybody but Bonmot.” You know Bonmot is his particular friend.'

'But surely that is cruel,' said Henrietta Temple, smiling.

'I am cruel,' said Lady Bellair, 'when I hate a person I am very cruel, and I hate Bonmot. Mr. Fox wrote me a copy of verses once, and called me ”cruel fair;” but I was not cruel to him, for I dearly loved Charles Fox; and I love you, and I love your father. The first party your father ever was at, was at my house. There, what do you think of that? And I love my grandchildren; I call them all my grand-children. I think great-grandchildren sounds silly; I am so happy that they have married so well. My dear Selina is a countess; you shall be a countess, too,'

added Lady Bellair, laughing. 'I must see you a countess before I die.

Mrs. Grenville is not a countess, and is rather poor; but they will be rich some day; and Grenville is a good name: it sounds well. That is a great thing. I hate a name that does not sound well.'

CHAPTER VI.

_Containing a Conversation Not Quite so Amusing as the Last_.

IN THE evening Henrietta amused her guests with music. Mrs. Montgomery Floyd was enthusiastically fond of music, and very proud of her intimate friends.h.i.+p with Pasta. 'Oh! you know her, do you?' 'Very well; you shall bring her to my house. She shall sing at all my parties; I love music at my evenings, but I never pay for it, never. If she will not come in the evening, I will try to ask her to dinner, once at least. I do not like singers and tumblers at dinner, but she is very fas.h.i.+onable, and young men like her; and what I want at my dinners are young men, young men of very great fas.h.i.+on. I rather want young men at my dinners. I have some; Lord Languid always comes to me, and he is very fine, you know, very fine indeed. He goes to very few places, but he always comes to me.'

Mrs. Montgomery Floyd quitted the piano, and seated herself by Mr.

Temple. Mr. Temple was gallant, and Mrs. Montgomery Floyd anxious to obtain the notice of a gentleman whom Lady Bellair had a.s.sured her was of the first _ton_. Her ladys.h.i.+p herself beckoned Henrietta Temple to join her on the sofa, and, taking her hand very affectionately, explained to her all the tactics by which she intended to bring-about a match between her and Lord Fitzwarrene, very much regretting, at the same time, that her dear grandson, Lord Bellair, was married; for he, after all, was the only person worthy of her. 'He would taste you, my dear; he would understand you. Dear Bellair! he is so very handsome, and so very witty. Why did he go and marry? And yet I love his wife. Do you know her? Oh! she is charming: so very pretty, so very witty, and such good blood in her veins. I made the match. Why were you not in England?

If you had only come to England a year sooner, you should have married Bellair. How provoking!'

'But, really, dear Lady Bellair, your grandson is very happy. What more can you wish?'

'Well, my dear, it shall be Lord Fitzwarrene, then. I shall give a series of parties this year, and ask Lord Fitzwarrene to every one. Not that it is very easy to get him, my child. There is n.o.body so difficult as Lord Fitzwarrene. That is quite right. Men should always be difficult. I cannot bear men who come and dine with you when you want them.'

'What a charming place is Ducie!' sighed Mrs. Montgomery Floyd to Mr.

Temple. 'The country is so delightful.'

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