Part 14 (1/2)
With Lord Colambre she played more artfully; she drew him out in defence of his beloved country, and gave him opportunities of appearing to advantage; this he could not help feeling, especially when the Lady Isabel was present. Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough with human nature to know, that to make any man pleased with her, she should begin by making him pleased with himself.
Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began to think, were a.s.sumed; he pardoned her defiance of good breeding, when he observed that she could, when she chose it, be most engagingly polite. It was not that she did not know what was right, but that she did not think it always for her interest to practise it.
The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit depended merely on unexpectedness; a characteristic which may be applied to any impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct. In some of her ladys.h.i.+p's repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear it. In short, exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's conversation had become entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow that she could be agreeable.
'Ay, I knew how it would be,' said she, when some of her friends told her this. 'He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that, if I thought it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner or later.
I delight in seeing people begin with me as they do with olives, making all manner of horrid faces and silly protestations that they will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but, after a little time, these very folk grow so desperately fond of olives, that there is no dessert without them. Isabel, child, you are in the sweet line--but sweets cloy. You never heard of anybody living on marmalade, did ye?'--Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.--'To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well,' pursued the mother; 'but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up the spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece; and I am that somebody--as you shall see. Is not that our hero's voice, which I hear on the stairs?'
It was Lord Colambre. His lords.h.i.+p had by this time become a constant visitor at Lady Dashfort's. Not that he had forgotten, or that he meant to disregard his friend Sir James Brooke's parting words. He promised himself faithfully, that if anything should occur to give him reason to suspect designs, such as those to which the warning pointed, he would be on his guard, and would prove his generals.h.i.+p by an able retreat. But to imagine attacks where none were attempted, to suspect ambuscades in the open country, would be ridiculous and cowardly.
'No,' thought our hero; 'Heaven forfend I should be such a c.o.xcomb as to fancy every woman who speaks to me has designs upon my precious heart, or on my more precious estate!' As he walked from his hotel to Lady Dashfort's house, ingeniously wrong, he came to this conclusion, just as he ascended the stairs, and just as her ladys.h.i.+p had settled her future plan of operations.
After talking over the nothings of the day, and after having given two or three CUTS at the society of Dublin, with two or three compliments to individuals, who, she knew, were favourites with his lords.h.i.+p, she suddenly turned to him--
'My lord, I think you told me, or my own sagacity discovered, that you want to see something of Ireland, and that you don't intend, like most travellers, to turn round, see nothing, and go home content.'
Lord Colambre a.s.sured her ladys.h.i.+p that she had judged him rightly, for, that nothing would content him but seeing all that was possible to be seen of his native country. It was for this special purpose he came to Ireland.
'Ah!--well--very good purpose--can't be better; but now, how to accomplish it. You know the Portuguese proverb says, ”You go to h.e.l.l for the good things you intend to do, and to heaven for those you do.” Now let us see what you will do. Dublin, I suppose, you've seen enough of by this time; through and through--round and round this makes me first giddy and then sick. Let me show you the country--not the face of it, but the body of it--the people. Not Castle this, or Newtown that, but their inhabitants. I know them; I have the key, or the picklock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an animal on his guard, and off his guard, as a miss in school from a miss out of school. A fine country for game, I'll show you; and, if you are a good marksman, you may have plenty of shots ”at folly as it flies.”'
Lord Colambre smiled. 'As to Isabel,' pursued her lady-s.h.i.+p, 'I shall put her in charge of Heathc.o.c.k, who is going with us. She won't thank me for that, but you will. Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I know, as who does not that has seen the world, that though a pretty woman is a mighty pretty thing, yet she is confoundedly in one's way, when anything else is to be seen, heard--or understood.'
Every objection antic.i.p.ated and removed, and so far a prospect held out of attaining all the information he desired, with more than all the amus.e.m.e.nt he could have expected, Lord Colambre seemed much tempted to accept the invitation; but he hesitated, because, as he said, her ladys.h.i.+p might be going to pay visits where he was not acquainted.
'Bless you! don't let that be a stumbling-block in the way of your tender conscience. I am going to Killpatrickstown, where you'll be as welcome as light. You know them, they know you; at least you shall have a proper letter of invitation from my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick, and all that. And as to the rest, you know a young man is always welcome every-where, a young n.o.bleman kindly welcome,--I won't say such a young man, and such a young n.o.bleman, for that might put you to pour bows or your blushes--but n.o.bILITAS by itself, n.o.bility is enough in all parties, in all families, where there are girls, and of course b.a.l.l.s, as there are always at Killpatrickstown. Don't be alarmed; you shall not be forced to dance, or asked to marry. I'll be your security. You shall be at full liberty; and it is a house where you can do just what you will.
Indeed, I go to no others. These Killpatricks are the best creatures in the world; they think nothing good or grand enough for me. If I'd let them, they would lay down cloth of gold over their bogs for me to walk upon.--Good-hearted beings!' added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on Lord Colambre's countenance. 'I laugh at them, because I love them. I could not love anything I might not laugh at--your lords.h.i.+p excepted. So you'll come--that's settled.'
And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatrickstown.
'Everything here sumptuous and unfinished, you see,' said Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival. 'All begun as if the projectors thought they had the command of the mines of Peru, and ended as if the possessors had not sixpence; DES ARRANGEMENS PROVISATOIRES, temporary expedients; in plain English, MAKE-s.h.i.+FTS. Luxuries, enough for an English prince of the blood; comforts, not enough for an English woman. And you may be sure that great repairs and alterations have gone on to fit this house for our reception, and for our English eyes!--Poor people!--English visitors, in this point of view, are horribly expensive to the Irish. Did you ever hear that, in the last century, or in the century before the last, to put my story far enough back, so that it shall not touch anybody living; when a certain English n.o.bleman, Lord Blank A--, sent to let his Irish friend, Lord Blank B--, know that he and all his train were coming over to pay him a visit; the Irish n.o.bleman, Blank B--, knowing the deplorable condition of his castle, sat down fairly to calculate whether it would cost him most to put the building in good and sufficient repair, fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it to the ground. He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was wisely accomplished next day. Perhaps Killpatrick would have done well to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst, to be burnt out of house and home, or to be eaten out of house and home. In this house, above and below stairs, including first and second table, housekeeper's room, lady's maids' room, butler's room, and gentleman's, one hundred and four people sit down to dinner every day, as Pet.i.to informs me, beside kitchen boys, and what they call CHAR-women who never sit down, but who do not eat or waste the less for that; and retainers and friends, friends to the fifth and sixth generation, who ”must get their bit and their sup;” for, ”sure, it's only Biddy,” they say,' continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish brogue, 'find, ”sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour, my lord, has. How could he FEEL it! [Feel it: become sensible of it, know it.] Long life to him! He's not that way: not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a great dale, looks less after their own, nor is more off-handeder, or open-hearteder, or greater open-house-keepers, NOR [than] my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick.” Now there's encouragement for a lord and a lady to ruin themselves.'
Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that 'she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for all occasions.' By her mixture of mimickry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and truth, she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at everything at which she wished to make him laugh; at every THING, but not every BODY whenever she became personal, he became serious, or at least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could not instantly resume the command of his risible muscles, he reproached himself.
'It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in their own house--these hospitable people, who are entertaining us.'
'Entertaining us! true, and if we are ENTERTAINED, how can we help laughing?'
All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings and principles.
This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole object; but there he was mistaken. OFF-HANDED as she pretended to be, none dealt more in the IMPROMPTU FAIT A LOISIR; and mentally short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more LONGANIMITY for their own interest.
It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native country; to make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate. To confirm him an absentee was her object previously to her ultimate plan of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would therefore be glad to GET an Irish peer for her; but would be very sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young widow declared she could never bring herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony Castle.
In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain hints from Mrs. Pet.i.to, which worked all to the same point.
'Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that when I was at Lady Clonbrony's,' said Pet.i.to, one day, as she was attending at her lady's toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. 'And I own I was originally under the universal error, that my Lord Colambre was to be married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been converted and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in another way and style of thinking.'
Pet.i.to paused, in hopes that her lady would ask, what was her present way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly as she did not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.--'My present way of thinking,' resumed Pet.i.to, 'is in consequence of my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his lords.h.i.+p's behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from LUNNUN for Ireland; when he was morally certain n.o.body was up, nor overhearing, nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady, stopping in the antechamber, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. over one of Miss Nugent's gloves, which he had picked up. ”Limerick!” said he, quite loud to himself; for it was a Limerick glove, my lady,--”Limerick!--dear Ireland! she loves you as well as I do!”--or words to that effect; and then a sigh, and downstairs and off: So, thinks I, now the cat's out of the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's chance of that young lord, with all her bank stock, scrip, and OMNUM. Now, I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's no FORTIN; and she's so proud, she never said a hint to me of the matter; but my Lord Colambre is a sweet gentleman; and--'
'Pet.i.to! don't run on so; you must not meddle with what you don't understand: the Miss Killpatricks, to be sure, are sweet girls, particularly the youngest.'--Her ladys.h.i.+p's toilette was finished; and she left Pet.i.to to go down to my Lady Killpatrick's woman, to tell, as a very great secret, the schemes that were in contemplation among the higher powers, in favour of the youngest of the Miss Killpatricks.