Part 11 (1/2)
”No, it wouldn't be the least pity to stop it!” returned Lady Maclaughlan, in her loud authoritative tone; ”because, though it's not distressing, it's very disagreeable. But it cannot be stopped--you might as well talk of stopping the wind--it is a cradle cough.”
”My dear Lady Maclaughlan!” screamed Sir Sampson in a shrill pipe, as he made an effort to raise himself, and rescue his cough from this aspersion; ”how can you persist in saying so, when I have told you so often it proceeds entirely from a cold caught a few years ago, when I attended his Majesty at-----” Here a violent relapse carried the conclusion of the sentence along with it.
”Let him alone-don't meddle with him,” called his lady to the a.s.siduous nymphs who were bustling around him; ”leave him to Philistine; he's in very good hands when he is in Philistine's.” Then resting her chin upon the head of her stick, she resumed her scrutiny of Lady Juliana.
”You really are a pretty creature! You've got a very handsome nose, and your mouth's very well, but I don't like your eyes; they're too large and too light; they're saucer eyes, and I don't like saucer eyes.
Why ha'nt you black eyes? You're not a bit like your father--I knew him very well. Your mother was an heiress; your father married her for her money, and she married him to be a Countess; and so that's the history of their marriage-humph.”
This well-bred harangue was delivered in an unvarying tone, and with unmoved muscles; for though the lady seldom failed of calling forth some conspicuous emotion, either of shame, mirth, or anger, on the countenances of her hearers, she had never been known to betray any correspondent feelings on her own; yet her features were finely formed, marked, and expressive; and, in spite of her ridiculous dress and eccentric manners, an air of dignity was diffused over her whole person, that screened her from the ridicule to which she must otherwise have been exposed. Amazement at the uncouth garb and singular address of Lady Maclaughlan was seldom unmixed with terror at the stern imperious manner that accompanied all her actions. Such were the feelings of Lady Juliana as she remained subjected to her rude gaze and impertinent remarks.
”My Lady?” squeaked Sir Sampson from forth his easy chair.
”My love?” interrogated his lady as she leant upon her stick.
”I want to be introduced to my Lady Juliana Douglas; so give me your hand,” attempting, at the same time, to emerge from the huge leathern receptacle into which he had been plunged by the care of the kind sisters.
”Oh, pray sit still, dear Sir Sampson,” cried they as usual all at once; ”our sweet niece will come to you, don't take the trouble to rise; pray don't,” each putting a hand on this man of might, as he was half risen, and pus.h.i.+ng him down.
”Ay, come here, my dear,” said Lady Maclaughlan; ”you're abler to walk to Sir Sampson than he to you,” pulling Lady Juliana in front of the easy chair; ”there--that's her; you see she is very pretty.”
”Zounds, what is the meaning of all this?” screamed the enraged baronet.
”My Lady Juliana Douglas, I am shocked beyond expression at this freedom of my lady's. I beg your ladys.h.i.+p ten thousand pardons; pray be seated.
I'm shocked; I am ready to faint at the impropriety of this introduction, so contrary to all rules of etiquette. How _could _you behave in such a manner, my Lady Maclaughlan?”
”Why, you know, my dear, your legs may be very good legs, but they can't walk,” replied she, with her usual _sang froid._
”My Lady Maclaughlan, you perfectly confound me,” stuttering with rage.
”My lady Juliana Douglas, see here,” stretching out a meagre shank, to which not even the military boot and large spur could give a respectable appearance: ”You see that leg strong and straight,” stroking it down--; ”now, behold the fate of war!” dragging forward the other, which was shrunk and shrivelled to almost one half its original dimensions. ”These legs were once the same; but I repine not--I sacrificed it in a n.o.ble cause: to that leg my Sovereign owes his life!”
”Well, I declare, I had no idea; I thought always it had been rheumatism,” burst from the lips of the astonished spinsters, as they crowded round the ill.u.s.trious limb, and regarded it with looks of veneration.
”Humph!” emphatically uttered his lady.
”The story's a simple one, ladies, and soon told: I happened to be attending his Majesty at a review; I was then aid-de-camp to Lord -----.
His horse took fright, I--I--I,”--here, in spite of all the efforts that could be made to suppress it, the _royal_ _cough _burst forth with a violence that threatened to silence its brave owner for ever.
”It's very strange you will talk, my love,” said his sympathising lady, as she supported him; ”talking never did, nor never will agree with you; it's very strange what pleasure people take in talking--humph!”
”Is there anything dear Sir Sampson could take?” asked Miss Grizzy.
_”Could_ take? I don't know what you mean by _could_ take. He couldn't take the moon, if you meant hat; but he must take what I give him; so call Philistine; he knows where my cough tincture is.”
”Oh, we have plenty of it in this press,” said Miss Grizzy, flying to a cupboard, and, drawing forth a bottle, she poured out a b.u.mper, and presented it to Sir Sampson.
”I'm poisoned!” gasped he feebly; ”that's not my lady's cough-tincture.”