'And the devil may take it too, for anything that I care,' said old
Reynolds.
'Oh, my dear, dear sir! you are so refractory a patient.'
'I am no patient at all, ma'am, and have no patience either; I am as
well as you are, or my Lady Dashfort either, and hope, God willing, long
to continue so.'
Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her perception of the
man's strangeness. Then, in a cajoling voice, addressing herself to the
old gentleman—
'Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven grants my daily and
nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort's also. So, Mr. Reynolds, if the
ladies' prayers are of any avail, you ought to be purely, and I suppose
ladies' prayers have the precedency in efficacy. But it was not of
prayers and deathbed affairs I came commissioned to treat—not of
burials, which Heaven above forbid, but of weddings my diplomacy was to
speak; and to premise my Lady Dashfort would have come herself in her
carriage, but is hurried out of her senses, and my Lady Isabel could not
in proper modesty; so they sent me as their DOUBLE to hope you, my
dear Mr. Reynolds, who is one of the family relations, will honour the
wedding with your presence.'
'It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do,' said the
intractable Mr. Reynolds. 'It will be no advantage, either; but that
they do not know as well as I do. Mrs. Petito, to save you and your lady
all trouble about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort know
that I have just received and read the certificate of my son Captain
Reynolds's marriage with Miss St. Omar. I have acknowledged the
marriage. Better late than never; and to-morrow morning, God willing,
shall set out with this young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to see,
and intend publicly to acknowledge, my grand-daughter—provided she will
acknowledge me.'
'CRIMINI!' exclaimed Mrs. Petito, 'what new turns are here! Well, sir, I
shall tell my lady of the METAMORPHOSES that have taken place, though by
what magic (as I have not the honour to deal in the black art) I can't
guess. But, since it seems annoying and inopportune, I shall take my
FINALE, and shall thus have a verbal P.P.C.—as you are leaving town,
it seems, for Buxton so early in the morning. My Lord Colambre, if I
see rightly into a millstone, as I hope and believe I do on the present
occasion, I have to congratulate your lordship (haven't I?) upon
something like a succession, or a windfall, in this DENEWMENT. And I beg
you'll make my humble respects acceptable to the ci-devant Miss Grace
Nugent that was; and I won't DERROGATE her by any other name in the
interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only be a temporary name, scarce
worth assuming, except for the honour of the public adoption; and that
will, I'm confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount's title, or I have
no sagacity nor sympathy. I hope I don't (pray don't let me) put you to
the blush, my lord.'
Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have helped it.
'Count O'Halloran, your most obedient! I had the honour of meeting
you at Killpatrickstown,' said Mrs. Petito, backing to the door, and
twitching her shawl. She stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large
dog—caught by the door, and recovered herself. Hannibal rose and shook
his ears. 'Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance too.' She would have
stroked his head; but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so did she.
Thus ended certain hopes; for Mrs. Petito had conceived that her
DIPLOMACY might be turned to account; that in her character of an
ambassadress, as Lady Dashfort's double, by the aid of Iceland moss in
chocolate, flattery properly administered; that, by bearing with all her
DEAR Mr. Reynolds's ODDNESSES and ROUGHNESES, she might in time—that is
to say, before he made a new will become his dear Mrs. Petito; or (for
stranger things have happened and do happen every day) his dear Mrs.
Reynolds! Mrs. Petito, however, was good at a retreat; and she flattered
herself that at least nothing of this underplot had appeared; and at all
events she secured by her services in this embassy, the long-looked-for
object of her ambition, Lady Dashfort's scarlet velvet gown—'not yet a
thread the worse for the wear!' One cordial look at this comforted her
for the loss of her expected OCTOGENAIRE; and she proceeded to discomfit
her lady, by repeating the message with which strange old Mr. Reynolds
had charged her. So ended all Lady Dashfort's hopes of his fortune.
Since the death of his youngest son, she had been indefatigable in her
attentions, and sanguine in her hopes; the disappointment affected both
her interest and her pride, as an INTRIGANTE. It was necessary, however,
to keep her feelings to herself; for if Heathcock should hear anything
of the matter before the articles were signed, he might 'be off!'—so
she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach directly—drove to Gray's, to
make sure at all events of the jewels.
In the meantime Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, delighted with the
result of their visit, took leave of Mr. Reynolds, after having arranged
the journey, and appointed the hour for setting off the next day.
Lord Colambre proposed to call upon Mr. Reynolds in the evening, and
introduce his father, Lord Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds said—
'No, no! I'm not ceremonious. I have given you proofs enough of that, I
think, in the short time we've been already acquainted. Time enough
to introduce your father to me when we are in a carriage, going our
journey; then we can talk, and get acquainted; but merely to come
this evening in a hurry, and say, "Lord Clonbrony, Mr. Reynolds;—Mr.
Reynolds, Lord Clonbrony," and then bob our two heads at one another,
and scrape one foot back, and away!—where's the use of that nonsense
at my time of life, or at any time of life? No, no! we have enough to do
without that, I daresay.—Good morning to you, Count O'Halloran! I thank
you heartily. From the first moment I saw you, I liked you; lucky too
that you brought your dog with you! 'Twas Hannibal made me first let you
in; I saw him over the top of the blind.—Hannibal, my good fellow! I'm
more obliged to you than you can guess.'
'So are we all,' said Lord Colambre.
Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning home they
met Sir James Brooke.
'I told you,' said Sir James, 'I should be in London almost as soon as
you. Have you found old Reynolds!'
'Just come from him.'
'How does your business prosper! I hope as well as mine.'
A history of all that had passed up to the present moment was given, and
hearty congratulations received.
'Where are you going now, Sir James?—cannot you come with us?' said
Lord Colambre and the count.
'Impossible,' replied Sir James;—'but, perhaps, you can come with
me—I'm going to Gray's, to give some old family diamonds, either to be
new set or exchanged. Count O'Halloran, I know you are a judge of these
things; pray, come and give me your opinion.'
'Better consult your bride elect!' said the count.
'No; she knows little of the matter—and cares less,' replied Sir James.
'Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much,' said the count, as
they passed by the window and saw Lady Isabel, who, with Lady Dashfort,
had been holding consultation deep with the jeweller; and Heathcock,
playing PERSONNAGE MUET.
Lady Dashfort, who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it, 'her
head upon her shoulders'—presence of mind where her interests were
concerned—ran to the door before the count and Lord Colambre could
enter, giving a hand to each—as if they had all parted the best friends
in the world.
'How do? how do?—Give you joy! give me joy! and all that. But mind! not
a word,' said she, laying her finger upon her lips—'not a word before
Heathcock of old Reynolds, or of the best part of the old fool,—his
fortune!'
The gentlemen bowed, in sign of submission to her ladyship's commands;
and comprehended that she feared Heathcock might be OFF, if the best
part of his bride (her fortune, or her EXPECTATIONS) were lowered in
value or in prospect.
'How low is she reduced,' whispered Lord Colambre, 'when such a husband
is thought a prize—and to be secured by a manoeuvre!' He sighed.
'Spare that generous sigh!' said Sir James Brooke; 'it is wasted.'
Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at which she
was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded at sight of Count
O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew dark as hatred when she saw Sir
James Brooke. She walked away to the farther end of the shop, and asked
one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace which lay upon the
counter.
The man said, 'He really did not know; it belonged to Lady Oranmore; it
had just been new set for one of her ladyship's daughters, who is going
to be married to Sir James Brooke—one of the gentlemen, my lady, who
are just come in.'
Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of the necklace; he
named the value, which was considerable.
'I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were vastly too
philosophical to think of diamonds,' said Lady Isabel to her mother,
with a sort of sentimental sneer in her voice and countenance. 'But it
is some comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and
love do not so wholly engross the heart, that they "feel every vanity in
fondness lost."'
"Twould be difficult, in some cases,' thought many present.
"Pon honour, di'monds are cursed expensive things, I know!' said
Heathcock. 'But, be that as it may,' whispered he to the lady, though
loud enough to be heard by others, 'I've laid a damned round wager, that
no woman's diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in Lon'on,
shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock's!—and Mr. Gray here's to be
judge.'
Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles; with one
of those smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord Colambre,
and which he had once fancied expressed so much sensibility—such
discriminative and delicate application. Our hero felt so much contempt,
that he never wasted another sigh of pity for her degradation. Lady
Dashfort came up to him as he was standing alone; and, whilst the count
and Sir James were settling about the diamonds—
'My Lord Colambre,' said she, in a low voice, 'I know your thoughts, and
I could moralise as well as you, if I did not prefer laughing—you are
right enough; and so am I, and so is Isabel; we are all right. For look
here: women have not always the liberty of choice, and therefore they
can't be expected to have always the power of refusal.'
The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into her
carriage with her daughter, her daughter's diamonds, and her precious
son-in-law, her daughter's companion for life.
'The more I see,' said Count O'Halloran to Lord Colambre, as they left
the shop, 'the more I find reason to congratulate you upon your escape,
my dear lord.'
'I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom,' said Lord Colambre; 'but much
to love, and much to friendship,' added he, turning to Sir James Brooke;
'here was the friend who early warned me against the siren's voice; who,
before I knew Lady Isabel, told me what I have since found to be true,
that,
'Two passions alternately govern her fate—
Her business is love, but her pleasure is hate.'
'That is dreadfully severe, Sir James,' said Count O'Halloran; 'but I am
afraid it is just.'
'I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it,' replied Sir James
Brooke. 'For the foibles of the sex, I hope, I have as much indulgence
as any man, and for the errors of passion as much pity; but I cannot
repress the indignation, the abhorrence I feel against women, cold and
vain, who use their wit and their charms only to make others miserable.'
Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel's look and voice,
when she declared that 'she would let her little finger be cut off to
purchase the pleasure of inflicting on Lady de Cresey, for one hour, the
torture of jealousy.'
'Perhaps,' continued Sir James Brooke, 'now that I am going to marry
into an Irish family, I may feel, with peculiar energy, disapprobation
of this mother and daughter on another account; but you, Lord Colambre,
will do me the justice to recollect that, before I had any personal
interest in the country, I expressed, as a general friend to Ireland,
antipathy to those who return the hospitality they received from
a warm-hearted people, by publicly setting the example of elegant
sentimental hypocrisy, or daring disregard of decorum, by privately
endeavouring to destroy the domestic peace of families, on which,
at last, public as well as private virtue and happiness depend. I do
rejoice, my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say that I had any share in
saving you from the siren; and now, I will never speak of these ladies
more. I am sorry you cannot stay in town to see—but why should I be
sorry—we shall meet again, I trust, and I shall introduce you; and you,
I hope, will introduce me to a very different charmer. Farewell!—you
have my warm good wishes wherever you go.'
Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady Oranmore lived,
and Lord Colambre had not time to tell him that he knew and admired his
intended bride. Count O'Halloran promised to do this for him. 'And now,'
said the good count, 'I am to take leave of you; and I assure you I do
it with so much reluctance that nothing less than positive engagements
to stay in town would prevent me from setting off with you to-morrow;
but I shall be soon, very soon, at liberty to return to Ireland; and
Clonbrony Castle, if you will give me leave, I will see before I see
Halloran Castle.'
Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this promise.
'Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy—long to behold
the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray do not steal a march upon
me—let me know in time. I will leave everything—even the siege of—for
your wedding. But I trust I shall be in time.'