Part 39 (1/2)

”You will some day or other,” said Mary; ”for none, I believe, have ever pa.s.sed through life without feeling, or at least requiring its support; and it is well, perhaps, that we should know betimes how to receive as well as how to bestow it.”

”I don't see the necessity at all. I know I should hate mortally to be what you call sympathised with; indeed, it appears to me the height of selfishness in anybody to like it. If I am wretched, it would be no comfort to me to make everybody else wretched; and were I in Mrs.

Lennox's place, I would have more spirit than to speak about my misfortunes.”

”But Mrs. Lennox does not appear to be what you call a spirited creature. She seems all sweetness, and--”

”Oh, sweet enough, certainly!--But hers is a sort of Eolian harp, that lulls me to sleep. I tire to death of people who have only two or three notes in their character. By-the-bye, Mary, you have a tolerable compa.s.s yourself, when you choose, though I don't think you have science enough for a _bravura; there_ I certainly have the advantage of you, as I flatter myself my mind is a full band in itself. My kettledrums and trumpets I keep for Lady Juliana, and I am quite in the humour for giving her a flourish today. I really require something of an exhilarating nature after Mrs. Lennox's dead march.”

An unusual bustle seemed to pervade Beech Park as the carriage stopped, and augured well for its mistress's intention of being more than usually vivacious. It was found to be occasioned by the arrival of her brother Lord Lindore's servants and horses, with the interesting intelligence that his Lords.h.i.+p would immediately follow; and Lady Emily, wild with delight, forgot everything in the prospect of embracing her brother.

”How does it happen,” said Mary, when her cousin's transports had a little subsided, ”that you, who are in such ecstasies at the idea of seeing your brother, have scarcely mentioned his name to me?”

”Why, to tell you the truth, I fear I was beginning to forget there was such a person in the world. I have not seen him since I was ten years old. At that time he went to college, and from thence to the Continent.

So all I remember of him is that he was very handsome and very good-humoured; and all that have heard of him is, that wherever he goes he is the 'gla.s.s of fas.h.i.+on and the mould of form'--not that he is much of a Hamlet, I've a notion, in other respects. So pray put off that Ophelia phiz, and don't look as if you were of ladies most deject and wretched, when everybody else is gay and happy. Come, give your last sigh to the Lennox, and your first smile to _Lindore.”_

”That is sympathy,” said Mary.

CHAPTER VII.

”Quelle fureur, dit-il, quei aveugle caprice Quand Ie diner est pret.”

BOILEAU.

”I HOPE your Lords.h.i.+p has no thoughts of waiting dinner for Lord Lindore?” asked Dr. Redgill, with a face of alarm, as seven o'clock struck, and neither dinner nor Lord Lindore appeared.

”I have no thoughts upon the subject,” answered Lord Courtland, as he turned over some new caricatures with as much _nonchalance_ as if it had been mid-day.

”That's enough, my Lord; but I suspect Mr. Marshall, in his officiousness, takes the liberty of thinking for you, and that we shall have no dinner without orders,” rising to pull the bell.

”We ought undoubtedly to wait for Frederick,” said Lady Juliana; ”it is of no consequence when we sit down to table.”

A violent yell from the sleeping Beauty on the rug sounded like a summary judgment on her mistress.

”What is the meaning of this?” cried her Ladys.h.i.+p, flying to the offended fair one, in all the transports of pity and indignation; ”how can you, Dr. Redgill, presume to treat my dog in such a manner?”

”Me treat your Ladys.h.i.+p's dog!” exclaimed the Doctor in well-feigned astonishment--”Pon my honour!--I'm quite at a loss!--I'm absolutely confounded!”

”Yes! I saw you plainly give her a kick, and--”

”Me kick Beauty!--after that!--'Pon my soul, I should just as soon have thought of kicking my own grandmother. I did give her a _leettle_--a very _leettle_ shove, just with the point of my toe, as I was going to pull the bell; but it couldn't have hurt a fly. I a.s.sure you it would be one of the last action of my life to treat Beauty ill--Beauty!--poor Beauty!”--affecting to pat and soothe, by way of covering his transgression. But neither Beauty nor her mistress were to be taken in by the Doctor's cajolerie. The one felt, and the other saw the indignity he had committed; and his caresses and protestations were all in vain.

The fact was, the Doctor's indignation was so raised by Lady Juliana's remark, made in all the plenitude of a late luncheon, that, had it been herself instead of her favourite, he could scarcely have refrained from this testimony of his detestation and contempt. But much as he despised her, he felt the necessity of propitiating her at this moment, when dinner itself depended upon her decision; for Lord Courtland was perfectly neutral, Lady Emily as not present, and a servant waited to receive orders.

”I really believe it's hunger that's vexing her poor brute!” continued he, with an air of us feigned sympathy; ”she knows the dinner hour as well as any of us. Indeed, the instinct of dogs in that respect is wonderful. Providence has really--ahem!--indeed it's no joke to tamper with dogs, when they've got the notion of dinner in their heads. A friend of mine had a very fine animal--just such another as poor Beauty there--she had always been accustomed, like Beauty, to attend the family to dinner at a particular hour; but one day, by some accident, instead of sitting down at five, she was kept waiting till half-past six; the consequence was, the disappointment, operating upon an empty stomach, brought on an attack of the hydrophobia, and the poor thing was obliged to be shot the following morning. I think your Lords.h.i.+p said--Dinner,” in a loud voice to the servant; and Lady Juliana, though still sullen, did not dissent.

For an hour the Doctor's soul was in a paradise still more substantial than a Turk's; for it was lapt in the richest of soups and _ragouts_, and, secure of their existence, it smiled at ladies of quality, and deified their lap-dogs.

Dinner pa.s.sed away, and supper succeeded, and breakfast; dinner and supper revolved, and still no Lord Lindore appeared. But this excited no alarm in the family. It was Lord Courtland's way, and it was Lady Juliana's way, and it was all their ways, not to keep to their appointed time, and they therefore experienced none of the vulgar consternation incident to common minds when the expected guest fails to appear. Lady Emily indeed wondered, and was provoked, and impatient; but she was not alarmed; and Mary amused herself with contrasting in her own mind the difference of her aunts' feelings in similar circ.u.mstances.