Part 32 (1/2)
”By Jove, here's some more ribbon!” said Pen, amused.
A man with very black hair and whiskers, dyed evidently with the purple of Tyre, with twinkling eyes and white eyelashes, and a thousand wrinkles in his face, which was of a strange red colour, with two under-vests, and large gloves and hands, and a profusion of diamonds and jewels in his waistcoat and stock, with coa.r.s.e feet crumpled into immense s.h.i.+ny boots, and a piece of parti-coloured ribbon in his b.u.t.ton-hole, here came up and nodded familiarly to the Chevalier.
The Chevalier shook hands. ”My friend Mr. Pendennis,” Strong said.
”Colonel Altamont, of the bodyguard of his Highness the Nawaub of Lucknow.” That officer bowed to the salute of Pen; who was now looking out eagerly to see if the person wanted had entered the room.
Not yet. But the band began presently performing 'See the Conquering Hero comes,' and a host of fas.h.i.+onables--Dowager Countess of Rockminster, Mr. Pynsent and Miss Bell, Sir Francis Clavering, Bart., of Clavering Park, Lady Clavering and Miss Amory, Sir Horace Fogey, Bart., Lady Fogey, Colonel and Mrs. Higgs Wagg, Esq. (as the county paper afterwards described them), entered the room.
Pen rushed by Blanche, ran up to Laura, and seized her hand. ”G.o.d bless you!” he said, ”I want to speak to you--I must speak to you--Let me dance with you.” ”Not for three dances, dear Pen,” she said, smiling: and he fell back, biting his nails with vexation, and forgetting to salute Pynsent.
After Lady Rockminster's party, Lady Clavering's followed in the procession.
Colonel Altamont eyed it hard, holding a most musky pocket-handkerchief up to his face, and bursting with laughter behind it.
”Who's the gal in green along with 'em, Cap'n?” he asked of Strong.
”That's Miss Amory, Lady Clavering's daughter,” replied the Chevalier.
The Colonel could hardly contain himself for laughing.
CHAPTER XXVII. Contains some Ball-practising
Under some calico draperies in the shady embrasure of a window, Arthur Pendennis chose to a.s.sume a very gloomy and frowning countenance, and to watch Miss Bell dance her first quadrille with Mr. Pynsent for a partner. That gentleman was as solemn and severe as Englishmen are upon such occasions, and walked through the dance as he would have walked up to his pew in church, without a smile upon his face, or allowing any outward circ.u.mstance to interfere with his attention to the grave duty in which he was engaged. But Miss Laura's face was beaming with pleasure and good-nature. The lights and the crowd and music excited her. As she spread out her white robes, and performed her part of the dance, smiling and happy, her brown ringlets flowing back over her fair shoulders from her honest rosy face, more than one gentleman in the room admired and looked after her; and Lady Fogey, who had a house in London and gave herself no small airs of fas.h.i.+on when in the country, asked of Lady Rockminster who the young person was, mentioned a reigning beauty in London whom, in her ladys.h.i.+p's opinion, Laura was rather like, and p.r.o.nounced that she would ”do.”
Lady Rockminster would have been very much surprised if any protegee of hers would not ”do,” and wondered at Lady Fogey's impudence in judging upon the point at all. She surveyed Laura with majestic glances through her eyegla.s.s. She was pleased with the girl's artless looks, and gay innocent manner. Her manner is very good, her ladys.h.i.+p thought. Her arms are rather red, but that is a defect of her youth. Her tone is far better than that of the little pert Miss Amory, who is dancing opposite to her.
Miss Blanche was, indeed, the vis-a-vis of Miss Laura, and smiled most killingly upon her dearest friend, and nodded to her and talked to her, when they met during the quadrille evolutions, and patronised her a great deal. Her shoulders were the whitest in the whole room: and they were never easy in her frock for one single instant: nor were her eyes, which rolled about incessantly: nor was her little figure:--it seemed to say to all the people, ”Come and look at me--not at that pink, healthy, bouncing country la.s.s, Miss Bell, who scarcely knew how to dance till I taught her. This is the true Parisian manner--this is the prettiest little foot in the room, and the prettiest little chaussure too. Look at it, Mr. Pynsent. Look at it, Mr. Pendennis, you who are scowling behind the curtain--I know you are longing to dance with me.”
Laura went on dancing, and keeping an attentive eye upon Mr. Pen in the embrasure of the window. He did not quit that retirement during the first quadrille, nor until the second, when the good-natured Lady Clavering beckoned to him to come up to her to the dais or place of honour where the dowagers were,--and whither Pen went blus.h.i.+ng and exceedingly awkward, as most conceited young fellows are. He performed a haughty salutation to Lady Rockminster, who hardly acknowledged his bow, and then went and paid his respects to the widow of the late Amory, who was splendid in diamonds, velvet, lace, feathers, and all sorts of millinery and goldsmith's ware.
Young Mr. Fogey, then in the fifth form at Eton, and ardently expecting his beard and his commission in a dragoon regiment, was the second partner who was honoured with Miss Bell's hand. He was rapt in admiration of that young lady. He thought he had never seen so charming a creature. ”I like you much better than the French girl” (for this young gentleman had been dancing with Miss Amory before), he candidly said to her. Laura laughed, and looked more good-humoured than ever; and in the midst of her laughter caught a sight of Pen, and continued to laugh as he, on his side, continued to look absurdly pompous and sulky.
The next dance was a waltz, and young Fogey thought, with a sigh, that he did not know how to waltz, and vowed he would have a master the next holidays.
Mr. Pynsent again claimed Miss Bell's hand for this dance; and Pen beheld her, in a fury, twirling round the room, her waist encircled by the arm of that gentleman. He never used to be angry before when, on summer evenings, the chairs and tables being removed, and the governess called downstairs to play the piano, he and the Chevalier Strong (who was a splendid performer, and could dance a British hornpipe, a German waltz, or a Spanish fandango, if need were), and the two young ladies, Blanche and Laura, improvised little b.a.l.l.s at Clavering Park. Laura enjoyed this dancing so much, and was so animated, that she even animated Mr. Pynsent. Blanche, who could dance beautifully, had an unlucky partner, Captain Broadfoot, of the Dragoons, then stationed at Chatteris. For Captain Broadfoot, though devoting himself with great energy to the object in view, could not get round in time: and, not having the least ear for music, was unaware that his movements were too slow.
So, in the waltz as in the quadrille, Miss Blanche saw that her dear friend Laura had the honours of the dance, and was by no means pleased with the latter's success. After a couple of turns with the heavy dragoon, she pleaded fatigue, and requested to be led back to her place, near her mamma, to whom Pen was talking; and she asked him why he had not asked her to waltz, and had left her for the mercies of that great odious man in spurs and a red coat?
”I thought spurs and scarlet were the most fascinating objects in the world to young ladies,” Pen answered. ”I never should have dared to put my black coat in compet.i.tion with that splendid red jacket.”
”You are very unkind and cruel and sulky and naughty,” said Miss Amory, with another shrug of the shoulders. ”You had better go away. Your cousin is looking at us over Mr. Pynsent's shoulder.”
”Will you waltz with me?” said Pen.
”Not this waltz. I can't, having just sent away that good Captain Broadfoot. Look at Mr. Pynsent, did you ever see such a creature? But I will dance the next waltz with you, and the quadrille too. I am promised, but I will tell Mr. Poole that I had forgotten my engagement to you.”
”Women forget very readily,” Pendennis said.
”But they always come back, and are very repentant and sorry for what they've done,” Blanche said. ”See, here comes the Foker, and dear Laura leaning on him. How pretty she looks!”