Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
interest of my son. While as to dress, my woman can direct you to the
milliner who would equip you in the last mode. What, still obstinate?
Nay, then, Harry, I can take no excuse from you, and I may have been
able to collect some intelligence from the servants.”
Nothing remained but to take leave and walk home, the Major observing--
“Well, what think you of that, Betty?”
“Think, sir?--I think it is not for my lady to talk of villains.”
“She is in absolute error respecting Belamour; but then she has not seen
him since his recovery. Women are prone to those fancies, and in her
unprotected state, poor thing, no wonder she takes alarms.”
“I should have thought her rather over-protected.”
“Now, Betty, you need not take a leaf out of Mrs. Duckworth’s book, and
begin to be censorious. You saw how relieved she was to have me, her own
blood relation, to turn to, instead of that empty braggart of a fellow.
Besides, a man does not bring his step-mother when there’s anything
amiss.”
There was something in this argument, and Betty held her peace, knowing
that to censure my Lady only incited her father to defend her.
For her own part her consternation was great, and she walked on in
silence, only speaking again to acquiesce in her father’s observation
that they must say nothing to Mr. Belamour of my Lady’s plans for his
seclusion.
They found Mr. Belamour in the square parlour of the Royal York, having
sent Eugene out for a walk with Jumbo. The boy’s return in the most
eager state of excitement at the shops, the horses, sedans, and other
wonders, did something, together with dinner, to wile away the weary
time till, about three hours after the Major and his daughter had
returned, they were joined by the young baronet, who came running up the
stairs with a good deal more impetuosity than he would have permitted
himself at home.
“At last I have escaped,” he said. “I fear you have waited long for me?”
“I have been hoping you had discovered some indications,” said the
Major.
“Alas, no! I should imagine my Lady as ignorant as we are, save for one
thing.”
“And that was---?”
“The pains that were taken to prevent my speaking with any of the
servants. I was forced to attend on that harridan, Lady Aresfield, till
my mother sent for me; and then she made Mar absolutely watch me off the
premises. Then I had to go and report myself at head-quarters, and see
the surgeon, so that there may be no colour of irregularity for the
Colonel to take advantage of.”
“Right, right!” said the Major; “do not let him get a handle
against you, though I should not call you fit for duty yet, even for
holiday-work like yours.”
“You still suspect that your mother knows where our Aurelia is?” said
Betty. “When I think of her demeanour, I can hardly believe it! But did
you hear nothing of your little sisters?”
“I did not ask. In truth I was confounded by a proposal that was made to
me. If I will immediately marry my mother’s darling, Lady Belle, I may
have leave of absence from her and my regiment, both at once, and go to
meet Mr. Wayland if I like, or at any rate make the grand tour, while
they try to break in my charming bride for me. Of course I said that,
being a married man, nothing should induce me to break the law, nor to
put any lady in such a position; and equally, of course, I was shown a
lawyer’s opinion that the transaction was invalid.”
“As I always believed,” said his uncle. “The ceremony must be repeated
when we find her: though even if you were willing, the other parties are
very ill-advised to press for a marriage without judgment first being
delivered, how far the present is binding. So she wants to send you off
on your travels, does she?”
“She wishes me to go and arrange for her husband’s ransom,” said the
Major. “I would be ready enough were my child only found, but I believe
government would take it up, he being on his Majesty’s service.”
“It is a mere device for disposing of you--yes, and of my nephew too,”
said Mr. Belamour. “As for me, we know already her kind plans for
putting me out of reach of interference. I see, she communicated them
to you. Did she ask your cooperation, Major? Ah! certainly, an ingenious
plan for disuniting us. I am the more convinced that she is well aware
of where the poor child is, and that she wishes to be speedy in her
measures.”
There is no need to describe the half-frantic vehemence of the young
lover, nor the way in which the father and sister tried to moderate his
transports, though no less wretched themselves.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ROUT.
Great troups of people travelled thitherward
Both day and night, of each degree and place.--SPENSER.
Much against their will, Major Delavie and his _soi-disant_ son-in-law
set forth for Lady Belamour’s entertainment, thinking no opportunity of
collecting intelligence was to be despised; while she probably wished to
obviate all reports of a misunderstanding as well as to keep them under
her own eye.
The reception rooms were less adorned than the lady’s private apartment.
There were pictures on the walls, and long ranks of chairs ranged round,
and card-tables were set out in order. The ladies sat in rows, and the
gentlemen stood in knots and talked, all in full dress, resplendent
figures in brilliant velvet, gold lace, and embroidery, with swords by
their sides, cocked hats, edged with gold or silver lace, under their
arms, and gemmed shoe buckles. The order of creation was not yet
reversed; the male creature was quite as gorgeous in colour and ornament
as the female, who sat in her brocade, powder and patches, fan in hand,
to receive the homage of his snuff-box.
Sir Amyas went the round, giving and returning greetings, which were
bestowed on him with an ardour sufficient to prove that he was a general
favourite. His mother, exquisitely dressed in a rich rose-coloured
velvet train, over a creamy satin petticoat, both exquisitely
embroidered, sailed up with a cordial greeting to her good cousin, and
wanted to set him down to loo or ombre; but the veteran knew too well
what the play in her house was, and saw, moreover, Lady Aresfield
sitting like a harpy before the green baize field of her spoils. While
he was refusing, Sir Amyas returned to him, saying, “Sir, here is a
gentleman whom I think you must have known in Flanders;” and the Major
found himself shaking hands with an old comrade. Save for his heavy
heart, he would been extremely happy in the ensuing conversation.
In the meantime Lady Belamour, turning towards a stout, clumsy, short
girl, her intensely red cheeks and huge black eyes staring out of her
powder, while the extreme costliness of her crimson satin dress, and
profusion of her rubies were ridiculous on the unformed person of a
creature scarcely fifteen. If she had been any one else she would have
been a hideous spectacle in the eyes of the exquisitely tasteful Lady
Belamour, who, detecting the expression in her son’s eye, whispered
behind her fan, “We will soon set all that right;” then aloud, “My son
cannot recover from his surprise. He did not imagine that we could steal
you for an evening from Queen’s Square to procure him this delight.”
Then as Sir Amyas bowed, “The Yellow Room is cleared for dancing. Lady
Belle will favour you, Amyas.”
“You must excuse me, madam,” he said; “I have not yet the free use of my
arm, and could not acquit myself properly in a minuet.”
“I hate minuets,” returned Lady Belle; “the very notion gives me the
spleen.”
“Ah, pretty heretic!” said my Lady, making a playful gesture with her
fan at the peony-coloured cheek. “I meant this wounded knight to have
converted you, but he must amuse you otherwise. What, my Lord I thought
you knew I never meant to dance again. Cannot you open the dance without
me? I, who have no spirits!”
The rest was lost as she sailed away on the arm of a gentleman in a
turquoise-coloured coat, and waistcoat embroidered with gillyflowers;
leaving the Lady Arabella on the hands of her son, who, neither as host
nor gentleman, could escape, until the young lady had found some other
companion. He stiffly and wearily addressed to her the inquiry how she
liked London.
“I should like it monstrously if I were not moped up in school,” she
answered. “So you have come back. How did you hurt your arm?” she said,
in the most provincial of dialects.
“In the fire, madam.”
“What? In snatching your innamorata from the flames?”
“Not precisely,” he said.
“Come, now, tell me; did she set the room a-fire?” demanded the young
lady. “Oh, you need not think to deceive me. My brother Mar’s coachman
told my mamma’s woman all about it, and how she was locked up and ran
away; but they have her fast enough now, after all her tricks!”
“Who have? For pity’s sake tell me, Lady Belle!”
Loving to tease, she exclaimed: “There, now, what a work to make about a
white-faced little rustic!”
“Your ladyship has not seen her.”
“Have I not, though? I don’t admire your taste.”
“Is she in Queen’s Square?”
“Do not you wish me to tell you where you can find your old faded doll,
with a waist just like a wasp, and an old blue sacque--not a bit of
powder in her hair?”
“Lady Belle, if you would have me for ever beholden to you---”
“The cap fits,” she cried, clapping her hands. “Not a word to say for
her! I would not have such a beau for the world.”
“When I have found her it will be time to defend her beauty! If your
ladyship would only tell me where she is, you know not what gratitude I
should feel!”
“I dare say, but that’s my secret. My mamma and yours would be ready to
kill me with rage if they knew I had let out even so much.”
“They would forgive you. Come, Lady Belle, think of her brave old
father, and give some clue to finding her. Where is she?”
“Ah! where you will never get at her!”
“Is she at Queen’s Square?”
“What would you do if you thought she was? Get a constable and come and
search? Oh, what a rage Madam would be in! Goodness me, what sport!”
and she fell back in a violent giggling fit; but the two matrons were so
delighted to see the young people talking to one another, that there
was no attempt to repress her. Sir Amyas made another attempt to elicit
whether Aurelia were really at the school in Queen’s Square, but Lady
Arabella still refused to answer directly. Then he tried the expedient
of declaring that she was only trying to tease him, and had not really
seen the lady. He pretended not to believe her, but when she insisted,
“Hair just the colour of Lady Belamour’s,” his incredulity vanished; but
on his next entreaty, she put on a sly look imitated from the evil
world in which she lived, and declared she should not encourage naughty
doings. The youth, who though four years older, was by far the more
simple and innocent of the two, replied with great gravity, “It is the
Lady Belamour, my own wife, that I am seeking.”
“That’s just the nonsense she talks!”
“For Heaven’s sake, what did she say?”
But Belle was tired of her game, and threw herself boisterously on a
young lady who had the “sweetest enamel necklace in the world,” and
whose ornaments she began to handle and admire in true spoilt-child
fashion.
Sir Amyas then betook himself to the Major, who saw at once by his
eye and step that something was gained. They took leave together, Lady
Belamour making a hurried lamentation that she had seen so little of her
dear cousin, but accepting her son’s excuse that he must return to his
quarters; and they walked away together escorted by Palmer and Grey, as
well as by two link-boys, summer night though it was.
Sir Amyas repaired first to the hotel, where Mr. Belamour and Betty were
still sitting, for even the fashionable world kept comparatively early