MANNERS:
A NOVEL.
Ingenium par materiæ.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
1817.
MANNERS.
CHAPTER I.
Puesta que no me lo has dicho,
Ni aún con los ojos siguiera,
Mudas lenguas de amorios.[1]
It was long before Selina's agitated spirits could be composed; and when at length she sunk to rest, she was haunted by confused dreams of mixed joy and sorrow, in which Mordaunt's figure was always prominent. At last, however, towards morning she fell into a quiet sleep, from which she did not awake till several hours after Mrs. Galton and Augustus had left Eltondale.
Selina had given her maid so many charges to call her in time to take leave of them, that she had firmly relied on her doing so, little imagining that Mrs. Galton had previously determined to spare her the pain of parting. She had left a note for her, in which she reiterated her farewell, and her request to hear frequently from Selina; but the kindness of its expressions, if possible, aggravated the poor girl's sorrow and disappointment. As usual, she gave way unrestrainedly to her feelings, and wept aloud, really unconscious that while her tears flowed ostensibly for Mrs. Galton alone, her regrets arose not a little from the absence of Augustus. But, though Selina deceived herself in the belief, that she only bewailed this her first separation from her beloved aunt, she was most sincere in the grief she professed to feel on her account; for hypocrisy was a stranger to her guileless heart, yet uninitiated in the mysteries of that world, in which the timid and unpractised first learn to conceal the sentiments they actually feel, and conclude by displaying those that are but assumed. On the contrary, her genuine feelings were neither blunted by familiarity with sorrow, nor exhausted by the premature cultivation of sickly sensibility; and, though a more sobered reason might have wished the expression of them to be occasionally restrained, yet even a Stoic might have confessed, that the perfection of her judgment would have been dearly purchased by any alteration in the susceptibility of her heart.
Her melancholy toilet was scarcely finished, before she was summoned to Lady Eltondale's dressing-room. Her Ladyship advanced to the door to meet her with unusual cordiality of manner; but she scarcely beheld her wan countenance, when, starting back, she exclaimed with surprise, "Good heavens, child! what can be the matter? Oh! I had really forgotten Mrs. Galton's departure. Why, Selina, you could not have disfigured yourself more, if she was gone to heaven instead of to Bath. Here, La Fayette, do bring some cold cream to Miss Seymour, and a little eau de Cologne. However, my dear girl, I cannot regret that you have so totally disguised yourself to-day, as we shall have a pleasant tête à tête. You shall breakfast up stairs with me this morning, for you are really at present not presentable."
Lady Eltondale's kind consideration for Selina individually, and apparent indifference to the cause of her sorrow, was, perhaps, more effectual in its temporary suppression, than the most sympathetic condolences would have been; and, before Mons. Argant made his appearance with the apparatus for breakfast, Selina had sufficiently recollected herself, to request Lady Eltondale not to derange her plans on her account, but to remember her other guests.
"My dear little rustic," answered her Ladyship, laughing, "your odd notions really remind me of the last century. Nobody plays the part of hostess now; and as to guests—none could be admitted into a fashionable house, that do not know how to make themselves perfectly at home in it. I declare you are so simple, you would hardly have understood the merit of Mr. Frederick Bijou appearing last spring at a party his wife gave to the Prince, with a round hat under his arm, to show he was the only stranger in the room. Why now every inn in a country village is fitted up with all the conveniences of a private house; and the best praise you can give to a family mansion is to compare it to an hotel." The Viscountess was excessively entertained at the artless surprise expressed by her auditor; and concluded some similar observations by saying, she knew Selina would be so astray in the scene into which she had been thus suddenly dropt, that she was very glad nobody would be with them till after Christmas. "Then," said Selina, "I suppose Lady Hammersley is gone." "Oh! dear no—but she is nobody. Sir Robert is a relation of my Lord's; and I am obliged to go through the martyrdom of hearing his barbarous phraseology for at least a month every year, and I am afraid ten days of the penance are yet to come. Lady Hammersley never visits London; and, indeed, I believe the good woman thinks herself almost contaminated by even venturing as far as this within the Charybdean pool.—But, poor soul! she need not be afraid. If fashion was absolutely epidemical, she would never suffer from the contagion. She and the Admiral spend nine months of every year at Bath; he, drinking the water and reading the newspapers, and she, playing cards and writing essays. However, you may turn even her to account; for in one half hour you will learn more what vice is, from her long-syllabled declamations against it, than your poor innocent head would dream of in a twelvemonth."
"And which of the parents does the son resemble?" asked Selina, laughing. "Why, it is difficult to divine what nature intended him to be. One may parody Cowper, and say, 'God made them, but he has made himself;' and what the composition will turn out, I know not. He wishes to be a man of the world, and affects the reputation of vice, without having the courage to be wicked. I verily believe he is often at church of a Sunday evening, when he pretends to be at the gaming-table. However, you need not be inquisitive about him, for he will never condescend to notice you, till he ascertains whether you are the fashion or not. He does not want money, and he does want ton; and you know, according to the new system of craniology, men ought to choose their wives by the inverse ratio of their own deficiences. But you don't inquire about Mademoiselle Omphalie, whom I thought you meant last night to swear an everlasting friendship with. I asked her here solely for your sake."
Selina coloured, and expressed her thanks with her usual warmth and empressement.
"But I do not intend Mademoiselle Omphalie to be Miss Seymour's bosom friend. She is a public singer, my dear, and as such her reputation is perfect;—her private character is, I believe, much less immaculate; but with that, you know, we have nothing to do. The world now adopts the precept, 'Judge not that ye be not judged;' and, if people are wise enough not to hold the lantern to their own vices, they need not be troubled with any Diogenes. As to Mademoiselle
It is impossible to express Selina's astonishment at Lady Eltondale's conversation. When they had last met, she had been both delighted and surprised at the ease and elegance of her manners; but as she had only seen her in the company of Mrs. Galton, she was totally unconscious of the degree of levity to which that ease of manner could degenerate, either from accident or design. Lady Eltondale now entertained her wondering guest with a style of conversation to which she was totally unused. It is true, her expressions, like her conduct, were so guarded that no weak point was left open to censure; but she seemed so little to respect the barriers between vice and virtue, that they appeared to be considered by her as by no means insurmountable;—and Selina, finding those principles of rigid propriety now ridiculed, which she had hitherto been taught only to venerate, wondered for a moment whether the error lay in her Ladyship's frivolity or her own ignorance.
Meantime the Viscountess was not unobservant of her niece. She perceived that her changing countenance portrayed every varying emotion, almost before she was herself conscious of its influence. Sometimes the expression of her dark brow led her to fear, that Selina was capable of making deep reflections, though she willingly believed her deficient in resolution. At other times the arch smile, that played round her dimpled mouth, showed she was by no means insensible to the charms of raillery and satire, whilst the half-formed reply seemed to insinuate, that she could emulate the bewitching, though dangerous, talent she admired. But above all, Lady Eltondale failed not to remark the evanescent nature of all Selina's feelings, which almost seemed to exhaust themselves in the first stage of their existence. Hers was indeed "the tear forgot as soon as shed;" and, as she accompanied Lady Eltondale through the various apartments of her splendid house, and innocently expressed her delight and wonder at all she saw, her experienced and artful guide smiled at the rapid transitions of her thoughts, and anticipated a speedy conquest over a mind, which appeared already weakened by inherent volatility.
When Selina joined the party at dinner-time, Mrs. Galton, Augustus, and the Hall, seemed already to be forgotten by her. It was true the roses in her cheek yet drooped from the effect of the morning shower; but her lovely countenance had reassumed that expression of content and pleasure which was most natural to it.—But,
The uncertain glories of an April day,
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away.
Unfortunately at dinner Lord Eltondale addressed to her one of his inconsiderate compliments, in which he alluded, with more kindness than delicacy, to her recent misfortune. The unexpected mention of her father overcame her spirits; and, as usual, without reference to the spectators, she gave way to the feelings of the moment, and burst into tears. Mr. Hammersley, laying down his knife and fork, turned to stare at the mourner with an expression of countenance, that seemed to say, it was long since he had witnessed the natural emotions of a susceptible heart. Lady Eltondale withdrew the attention of Mademoiselle Omphalie by making some opportune inquiry. But Sir Robert's observation of Selina was not to be evaded. After looking at her steadfastly for some minutes, he exclaimed, "Come, come, my girl, cheer up;—swab the spray off your bowsprit, and never let the toppinglifts of your heart go down. If your father has got into port before you, if you keep a steady course and a true reckoning, you'll be sure of having a good birth alongside of him in a tide or two. Here, toss off this bumper, and haul in your jib sheet."
Selina could not help smiling at the manner in which the kind-hearted old man offered his consolation. But Lady Hammersley, who had hitherto remained in silence, now remarked in an emphatic tone, that "It was a work of supererogation to endeavour to suppress the tear of filial regret. A few weeks' association with the votaries of fashion would effectually eradicate the meritorious sentiments, and teach hypocritical sensibility to fictitious griefs to be ostentatiously substituted for genuine susceptibility."
From that day, during the remainder of his stay at Eltondale, Sir Robert Hammersley seemed to interest himself particularly about Selina. And though his Lady seldom condescended to address herself to her, yet even the cynical turn of her conversation implied approbation of Miss Seymour's present character by the very anticipations of its speedy alteration, which she daily repeated. Mr. Hammersley, as Lady Eltondale had prophesied, scarcely noticed the untutored girl, and seldom joined the morning party, except when Mademoiselle Omphalie was employed in communicating her enchanting talents to Selina, whose rapid progress astonished even Lady Eltondale. She already perfectly understood the science of music; and her naturally fine voice was peculiarly adapted to exemplify Mademoiselle Omphalie's excellent instructions. Even before many weeks had passed, Selina could not only join her in some beautiful Italian duets, but also accompany herself very tolerably on the harp, which soon became her favourite instrument.
CHAPTER II.
Le faux bien qu'elle prêche est plus dangereux que le mal même, en ce qu'il séduit par une apparence de raison, en ce qu'il fait préférer l'usage et les maximes du monde, à l'exacte probité, en ce qu'il fait consister la sagesse dans un certain milieu entre le vice et la vertu.[2]
Jean Jacques Rousseau, a M. D'Alembert.
Selina was not less attentive to Lady Eltondale's various lessons on propriety and elegance, than she had been to the instructions of Mademoiselle Omphalie. And though Lady Hammersley's satirical predictions were not yet fulfilled, as to any alteration that had taken place in her mind; yet it was evident, before she had been many weeks at Eltondale, that her general deportment was considerably changed since she had been under the superintendence of the Viscountess. Perhaps no woman ever more thoroughly understood the rules of politeness than did Lady Eltondale; and though a pupil formed entirely in her school would scarcely have failed to acquire, ultimately, that freezing apathy which was one of her own most distinguishing characteristics, yet the refinement of her manners was by no means an unfortunate counterpoise to the natural vivacity of Selina's. If it could have been possible to unite the polished exterior of the one with the unsophisticated mind of the other, it would have formed as perfect a whole, as if the rich and exuberant fancy of a Titian had been harmonized by the chastely correct judgment of a Michael Angelo.
Lady Eltondale had been right in believing, that Mr. Hammersley would not venture to admire the superior charms of Miss Seymour, till they had become current by receiving the die of fashion; and, as he found but little pleasure in the comparatively quiet society at Eltondale, he pleaded an indispensable engagement, and set
Selina's deep mourning had at first served as an excuse for her declining to partake of the gayer engagements the neighbourhood of Eltondale occasionally afforded. For, notwithstanding the avidity with which she entered into the pleasures by which she was surrounded, she was still sufficiently unlearned in the ways of the world to believe, that, at least where the memory of a parent was concerned, it was not altogether decorous
"To midnight dances and the publick show;"
and having at first received Mrs. Galton's approbation of her forbearance, she resisted in that one instance all Lady Eltondale's arguments and entreaties.—Happy would it have been for her, if she could always have resorted to the counsel of such a friend as Mrs. Galton. Lady Eltondale felt mortified by the unexpected resistance to her wishes, in a point she deemed so trifling; but, however, she compromised the matter with Selina, by prevailing upon her to change her sable dress at the end of three months, and to give up her mourning entirely at the end of six, which term would arrive before their going to London. She at the same time secretly resolved to interrupt, as much as possible, Selina's correspondence with Mrs. Galton, foreseeing it might, in other instances, equally frustrate her intentions and designs:—not that she could exactly define, even to herself, why she was so solicitous not only to supplant Mrs. Galton in Miss Seymour's affection, but also to change even the very character of her niece. She looked upon the engagement between her and Mr. Elton almost as irrevocable; and it was indeed a matter of comparative indifference to her, what was the true character of the woman she was so anxious to make his wife. But the real motive of the Viscountess' conduct, of which she herself was scarcely conscious, was a jealousy of Mrs. Galton's influence over Selina's mind, and an envious hatred produced by the consciousness of her own inferiority to her rival in her niece's affection; and she was perfectly aware that she could by no means so essentially mortify the woman she hated, or lessen the influence she so much dreaded, as by undermining the principles and changing the character Mrs. Galton had taken so much pains and pride in forming.
One morning Lady Eltondale entered the breakfast-room before Selina had returned from her usual early ramble; and as she carelessly tossed over the letters, which were left on the table to be claimed by their owners, her eye rested on one directed to Miss Seymour, in a hand-writing with which she was unacquainted. She had understood from Selina, that she had no correspondent but Mrs. Galton; and her curiosity was not a little roused by perceiving the seal bore the impression of the well-known Mordaunt arms. While she still held the letter in her hand, Selina entered the room;—the Viscountess feeling a momentary embarrassment in being detected so closely examining a letter directed to another, hastily concealed it, resolving to replace it next day. But in error, ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte. No person that voluntarily treads on the threshold of vice, can be certain that they will always have it in their power to retrace their steps. Lady Eltondale would probably have shuddered at the idea of deliberately intercepting a letter, and still more of clandestinely perusing it; yet having thus unpremeditatedly possessed herself of the one in question, she could not resist the further temptation of satisfying herself as to the nature of its contents, and accordingly opened it as soon as she found herself alone. It proved to be, as she suspected, a letter from Augustus. In truth, the expression of Selina's countenance, the last evening they had spent together, had never faded from his "mind's eye." With all the tenacity of a lover's memory, he called to remembrance every look, every word that seemed to flatter his fond wishes; and then, with all the subtlety of a lover's rhetoric, he persuaded himself that no duty he owed to the memory of Sir Henry forbad his endeavouring at least to retain whatever share of Selina's good opinion he already possessed; though he was still determined so far to respect the expressed wish of the Baronet, as not to precipitate a declaration of his own attachment, till Selina had an opportunity of fully understanding her own heart, and making her selection between him and Mr. Elton. Thus compromising between his passion and his principles, he addressed Selina in the character of trustee to her estate, and profiting by the excuse which that situation afforded him, conjured Selina to point out in what way he could be of most use; expressing his anxiety to be of service to her, in the warmest terms that passion under the mask of friendship could suggest.
Had this letter then reached Selina, it would have spared her many hours of future sorrow. But Lady Eltondale determined it should not do so. Her penetration too soon discovered its real import;—she perceived
Lurk'd under friendship's sacred name:"
and, with her usual sophistry, persuading herself that the end sanctified the means, she congratulated herself on the steps she had taken, and believed her laudable anxiety for the welfare of her step-son justified her treacherous conduct to her orphan niece. She was not long in deciding on the best measures to prevent a continuation of a correspondence so dangerous to her favourite scheme; and enclosing the letter back to Mordaunt, wrote the following note in the envelope:
"Lady Eltondale presents her compliments to Mr. Mordaunt, and her best thanks for his polite offers of service, which, however, she begs to decline as Mr. Elton is expected to return to England immediately, who will of course superintend himself the management of all Miss Seymour's estates. Lady Eltondale returns Mr. Mordaunt's letter, as perhaps he may, at a future time, wish to refer to it on the subject of Wilson's farm, upon which Miss Seymour, in her present delicate situation, feels no wish either to correspond or decide."
It would be impossible to describe the mortification and disappointment this laconic epistle occasioned Augustus. He felt justly indignant at the manner in which his proffered kindness had been rejected; and considered the insult in no slight degree aggravated by the circumstance of Selina permitting a third person to convey her own unfeeling reply. In one moment the bright vision of hope and joy, that had flitted before him, dissolved in air; and, from the delighted contemplation of all her charms, he sunk in an instant into the opposite extreme, and equally exaggerated all her failings. He recalled to mind Mr. Temple's observations, which now seemed absolutely prophetic; and, passing rapidly from one passion to another, upbraided her not only with the foibles she really possessed, but even with those errors that were as yet but anticipated. By degrees, however, the storm subsided. He so often repeated to himself that she was now perfectly indifferent to him, that he flattered himself it was really
While Augustus, in his retirement at Oxford, was thus endeavouring to extinguish feelings that were only a source of regret; and while Mrs. Galton was consoling herself as much as possible for her separation from her beloved child, by renewing old friendships, and forming new acquaintances at Bath, Selina was, by degrees, becoming more familiarized with the levity, duplicity, and frivolity, which were daily exemplified in the manners of Lady Eltondale and her different visitors. At length the time approached for their removal to London: an early day in April was fixed for their journey, which Selina anticipated with all the delight of a young vivacious girl, that at last found herself on the confines of a new world of pleasure, the enjoyments of which were yet untasted, and its sorrows unsuspected.
When the moment of their departure actually came, she gave way to unmixed feelings of joy. She laughed, sung, and frolicked round the room like a sportive child, and yet she could scarcely define her own emotions. She was hardly conscious that her pleasure, in a great degree, arose from the silently cherished hope of seeing Augustus. She had felt surprised, and even hurt, at his not having, as she supposed, made any inquiry after her, during her four months' stay at Eltondale. But she had always felt an unaccountable unwillingness to mention his name to Lady Eltondale; nor did she even to herself confess how much the expectation of seeing him once more contributed to the pleasure she anticipated from her visit to London.
The future was now opened to her view like an extended horizon, shining in all the luxury of light, which, while the intervening masses of the ground lay concealed, depicted no object in its natural colours, but touching here and there some prominent beauty with its most resplendent rays, confounded all the rest in one undistinguishable mass of brilliancy. As they were stepping into the carriage, a letter from Mr. Elton was delivered to Lord Eltondale. Little did Selina imagine she had any reason to be interested in the packet his Lordship so anxiously perused; and even had she been aware of the mention made in it of herself, it would scarcely have had power to withdraw her thoughts from the nearer, and therefore with her more powerful attraction.
To the Viscount Eltondale.
Paris, April 3.
I beg you will, my dear father, accept my best thanks for your last kind letter, though I must remark, that your affectionate solicitude for my happiness makes you over anxious to promote it. I confess I was more surprised than pleased to find, that, without in the least consulting my inclinations, you had entered into an engagement to contract Miss Seymour to me! Pardon me, my Lord; but had you and Sir Henry Seymour been employed in assisting each other to match your carriage horses instead of your children, less ceremony could scarcely have been used. You dilate much on Miss Seymour's beauty and fortune:—I am no cynic; yet, strange to say, the one is nearly as indifferent to me as the other. However if I find, on becoming acquainted with the character of the young lady in question, I can esteem and love her, I shall not object to her beauty or her riches, but shall duly appreciate the honour she would confer on me in making me her husband. But till I can judge for myself, I feel I have a right to demand, that neither you nor Lady Eltondale will do aught to compromise my honour in this affair. In a word, these are not times to risk the well-being of one so young and lovely, by a match of mere convenience: unless I can feel for the "innocent charming" Selina, Lady Eltondale so eloquently describes, all the attachment she merits, I will never have the cruelty to unite myself to her. Her orphan state sanctifies her in my eyes. Had she a father or brother to watch over her welfare, I might, perhaps, be less scrupulous; for, as it regards myself, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me whom I marry now—my hopes are frustrated, my spirits depressed, and I feel it a mere mockery to mention happiness and marriage together. Perhaps some ten years hence, when "I have forgot myself to stone," I may sacrifice the remnant of my joyless existence to family interests.
"As all my prospects of felicity in private life are blasted, I turn with more avidity to that course of public usefulness, which alone can now afford me satisfaction. Every thing has been sacrificed to it.
"I wish to obtain your consent to my remaining some time longer in this capital, to continue a course of inquiry I have entered into on points of great political importance, and to profit by the acquaintance of some public characters, who may aid me in my pursuits. I am grieved at what you tell me about the mortgage on Eltondale. Would my joining you in a bond be of any use?—If so, command me."
As the rest of Mr. Elton's letter was on law business, it could be of no interest except to the person to whom it was addressed.
CHAPTER III.
And simpler than the infancy of Truth.
Selina's impatience to reach the end of her journey made her consider it tedious in its progress, notwithstanding the velocity with which Lady Eltondale always travelled; who was too much a woman of fashion not to increase as much as possible her own consequence along the king's highway, by the trifling exertion of keeping the poor goaded animals which had the honor of drawing her vehicle at their utmost speed, thereby endangering the lives of such of his majesty's peaceful subjects as happened to approach them. As to Lord Eltondale, he seldom found leisure to reflect on the consequence attending any direction her Ladyship pleased to give; and even had he reflected, he would scarcely have ventured to dissent, so confirmed was his habit of passive acquiescence. Indeed, poor man, he was in a situation something similar to the coronet on his own equipage,—an external appendage to Lady Eltondale, which, while hurried along under the direction of her caprice, gave her a dignity in the eyes of the many, who merely look on the outside of every thing, but, in reality, totally disregarded by all those who were admitted into the interior.
At last, from a little eminence on the road, the first view of London broke on Selina's delighted eye. And yet such had been the exaggerated picture of this queen of cities, which her vivid imagination had drawn, that the coup d'œil almost disappointed her. It is true, a long line of smoke darkened the whole horizon, yet she could scarcely believe, the towers she saw so pre-eminent in the distance were really the St. Paul's, and Westminster Abbey, she had so long wished to see. Judgment must be corrected by experience, before it can form a true scale for grandeur either moral or physical. However, as by degrees Selina discovered the immensity of the parts, she formed some idea of the comparative magnitude of the whole; and as she approached the metropolis, the throng of passengers of every rank, the crowd of carriages of all descriptions, the protracted suburbs, and the bustling scene altogether, nearly overcame
For a moment she paused to look round the splendid drawing rooms, as if to ascertain that the scene was real, and no fleeting vision of her fancy. Then darting forward, she roamed from room to room, admiring every thing, examining nothing: the china, the mirrors, the statues, the lamps, the chandeliers, all in turn caught her attention, and all were in turn abandoned;
Paint, marbles, gems, and robes of Persian dye."
At last she noticed the balcony, that "rifled all the breathing spring," and flew to the open French window, expressing aloud all her admiration.
"All that does vastly well, my dear Selina, now we are tête a tête," quietly said the Viscountess, who, in the mean time, had been looking over the cards that nearly covered one of her tables. "But, pray child, don't be too naïve. You must learn to suppress your feelings; indeed, my dear, you must. If you choose to adopt the ton of natural manners, do so, cela vous sied bien; but make the proper distinction between simplicity and ignorance. I will never act the chaperone to La contadina in corte." Then perceiving her rebuke had, at the moment, all the effect she desired, she took Selina's arm, and familiarly leaning on it, "Come, my love," added she, "let me introduce you to your own apartments: I feel you are so much my child, I quite forget to play the Lady Macbeth, and kindly bid you welcome." Lady Eltondale knew so well how to soften the asperity of reproof, without weakening its effect, that, perhaps, there were no moments in which her fascinating powers were more displayed, than when she finely touched a string a less skilful hand would jar: and, having once hinted to Selina that possibility of her unrestrained emotions being construed into the affectation of naïveté; she knew the diffidence that suggestion would occasion, would have the effect of making her still more pliable to her well versed instructress in the arts of fashion.
Selina's toilet was soon made, and she repaired to the drawing room, long before her aunt was dressed. Here she prepared to renew, at leisure, her entertaining examination; and, for this purpose, leaned on a marble table, to admire the perfection of bijouterie, as it was fully exemplified in a French clock that it supported. She had not long remained thus employed, when she was disturbed by a voice close behind her ear, exclaiming, "Beautiful! enchanting! divine, upon my soul!" and turning round, she perceived a gentleman, who, in the mean time, had been as attentively, and, to all appearance, not less delightedly examining her. She colored, but made him a slight curtsy, to which he returned a bow, as obsequious as he could accomplish without withdrawing his eyes from her countenance; whilst his own was intended to express the most reverential admiration: but so little obedient were his features to his feelings, that their expression bordered on the ludicrous, and thereby served as an antidote to his ardent, and almost impertinent gaze. The ceremonious salute was prolonged by both, to enable each to assume a proper, though different, control over their features: but Selina, finding her risible muscles moved almost beyond the power of restraint, turned towards a chair, which her spell-struck admirer presented to her in silence, and with protracted admiration.
The figure that thus offered incense at her shrine was one, that would more properly have served as a prototype to a Silenus than a Cupid. He was habited in the very extreme of fashion, apparently unconscious that his ill-proportioned limbs, and corpulent form, "made by nature's journeymen," were but ill adapted to the exhibition of a tailor's art. His head, which was immense, rose out of a filleting of neckcloth, that seemed to impede his respiration; at least such might be inferred from the deepened color of his swoln cheeks. In one hand he held a newspaper, and in the other a glass, which he always applied to his eye when he meant to recognize an acquaintance, always saving and reserving to himself the privilege of "cutting" an old friend on the plea of short-sightedness.
He had neither the graces of youth, nor the respectability of age; and yet, merely because he had become, nobody knew how or why, the ton, he was a welcome inmate of every fashionable mansion. His recommendations, such as they were, consisted in a capability of relating a good story in the best possible manner, and of submitting patiently to a hoax from his superiors, always knowing how and when to return the compliment with interest: besides,
Tastes, for his friend, of fowl and fish,
Tells all their names, lays down the law,
Que çà est bon! Ah! goûtez ça."
He was, in truth, a living Almanac des Gourmands, and could withal play well, and bet high at every game. Being a professed old bachelor, he took the liberty of paying to ladies such undressed compliments, as, however acceptable they may be from some, it is not the etiquette to listen to from all. And perhaps from this assumed license, which he owed chiefly to his own ugliness, did he derive that privilege of which he was most vain, an undisputed right to decide on all claims to female beauty.
Such was the character and appearance of Sir James Fenton, whom Lady Eltondale, on entering, formally introduced to Selina: adding, in a manner half ironical and half serious, "This is my niece, Miss Seymour, for whom I bespeak your patronage, Sir James; I expect you will make her your first toast all this next month." Sir James acceded to her Ladyship's request with all possible seriousness; and leaning over the chair of the Viscountess, while he continued his scrutiny of Selina, lavished on her beauty the most rapturous praise in an audible voice, and, in a tone of criticism, concluding, as he conducted Lady Eltondale to the dinner room,—
All other wishes her own power would gain.
Selina scarcely knew whether to be most offended at Sir James's effrontery, or entertained by his originality. She had not an opportunity to decide on this important question afterwards, as he did not make his re-appearance in the drawing room.
Lord Eltondale had accidentally met him in Bond Street, as he strolled down towards the Royal Institution; and Sir James had accepted his casual invitation to dinner, for the sole purpose of seeing "the beautiful heiress;" and being able to anticipate the judgment the connoisseurs were to pass on her title to admiration. For Lady Eltondale had not been idle during her stay in the country: she was well aware, that there was no way by which a woman could better secure the admiration of any one man, than by convincing him she had obtained that of the rest of the world; and having gained "the beautiful heiress" for Frederick Elton, she wished to enhance the gift in his eyes, by increasing her value in those of others.
She knew that Selina's beauty was above praise, and that, even had she been less lovely, an heiress
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
Of all professors else, make proselytes
of whom she bid but follow."
Lady Eltondale was excessively entertained at the surprise and confusion of Selina, at reading this unexpected compliment to her own charms, the real existence of which she was totally unconscious of. As the time had arrived when Selina had promised to lay aside her mourning, they determined to commence the pleasing toil of shopping that very day, and accordingly visited in turn all the jewellers, milliners, mantua-makers, corset-makers, and shoemakers, and all the et cetera, that disputed the palm of fashionable praise. While Lady Eltondale gratified at once her love of extravagance and exquisite taste, as she directed that of her lovely charge, at the same time she indulged Selina's very natural curiosity, by taking her through the different parts of the metropolis; for the wary Viscountess was anxious that Selina should not be produced to the world's eye, while she was herself too new to its wonders; well knowing that all her care and all her instructions, would scarcely suffice to check the first warm effusions of an unpractised heart.
Some days passed in this manner; and at last the decorations of Selina's lovely person being decided on, the embellishment of her mind was next to be attended to, at least so Lady Eltondale termed the cultivation of her talents; for with her mind she, in truth, little interfered, however much she wished to direct the expression of her feelings. To perfect her in all the accomplishments of the day, the first masters were engaged to attend her. Selina, in her usual lively manner, wrote to Mrs. Galton an entertaining description of her various avocations, alleging that she was already introduced "to the whole dramatis personæ of the Bourgeois Gentilhomme," consisting of "un maitre de musique, un maitre à danser, un maitre tailleur, plusieurs laquais" and that she hoped "les hommes du bel air would soon make the entrée du ballet."
A beautiful boudoir was resigned to Selina by the Viscountess for her morning room, as it by no means was a part of her Ladyship's plan, that Selina should be à porté to the train of idle visitors that formed her usual levee. She knew the world well enough to be aware, that even beauty might grow familiar, and "pall on the eye;" and the more Miss Seymour was found difficult of access, the more would her society be sought. Therefore in acceding to Selina's entreaty to be allowed to pass her morning, as usual, in employment, while apparently only yielding to her wishes, she in truth pursued her own. Selina, with gratitude and delight, took possession of her little Paradise, for so she deemed it; into it she speedily removed her books, her drawing materials, and her magnificent new harp, which had been one of her first purchases, and there did she devote many hours to practising the lessons she daily received; particularly attending to the improvement of her naturally fine voice, which she could already accompany tolerably well on her new instrument; and often did she find her toil amply recompensed by a silent reflection of "how delighted Augustus and aunt Mary would be to hear me now!"
Nearly a fortnight had elapsed since their arrival in town, and Lady Eltondale became tired of remaining so long in private; for though she had, in truth, been out every evening, she had not yet gone to any large assembly, not wishing to appear in public without Selina, and choosing that her début should take place at her own house. She therefore sent out her cards for "a small party, with music;" and in the selection she made of her intended guests, took care that nearly all the leaders of ton, of both sexes, should be invited, whose fiat could at once impress the stamp of fashion on her protégée, for of their award she felt well assured, as her own silence on her beauty indicated. In the mean time she was most assiduous in preparing Selina for the exhibition. An easy but beautiful duet was practised and repractised with Mademoiselle Omphalie, who declared her full approbation of her quick adaptation of her style. Another was "got up," in which Selina was to accompany Madame —— on the piano forte, with just as many full chords on the harp as would show her beautiful figure to advantage, and impress the company with an idea of her manifold accomplishments; and a popular air, with brilliant variations, was selected for her performance on the piano forte, which was, in truth, the only part of the scene in which poor Selina felt the least assurance of success. At last the evening arrived, and Selina attended her aunt to the drawing room in a tumult of contending feelings: she stood on the threshold of pleasure—hope danced in her eyes, whilst the blush of timidity flushed her cheek. The magnificence of the apartments, the splendor of the lights, the perfume of the flowers, at once dazzled and delighted her. All the rooms were opened, and all shone in one blaze of borrowed day except the favourite boudoir: it too was open, and in it still sweeter flowers charmed the sense. But its simple, though beautiful, decorations, were more obscured than shown by the pale light of lamps, which shed almost a moonlight around, as they darted their tempered rays through vases of transparent alabaster. It seemed like the retreat of luxurious elegance receding from the world's glare; and Selina herself appeared like the goddess of this blest abode. Her dress had been entirely superintended by the Viscountess, as Selina neither understood nor valued the arts of the toilet; but her well versed aunt, knowing that the reputation of Selina's immense fortune was already sufficiently extended, had determined to consider nothing in this her first appearance, but how best to heighten her natural loveliness. The style of her dress was of the chastest simplicity. Her luxuriant hair, "when unadorned adorned the most," shone in no borrowed ornament, but every tress was arranged by the nicest hand of art, "then best exercised when least displayed." No jewels shed round her their meretricious glare; her gown of pure white seemed as spotless as the robe of innocence—but its beauty was not the effect of chance: no fold was unimpressed with the finest touch experienced taste could bestow; and, as Lady Eltondale turned her eyes on the beautiful girl, thus moulded, to all the external perfection she could have desired, she smiled at the anticipation of the triumphs that awaited her.
The frequent knocks, and rapidly repeated succession of names, announced to Selina that the Ides of March were come. Lady Eltondale took her station in the most conspicuous part of the rooms, for the purpose of receiving her guests; and never was the fascinating elegance of her manners more conspicuously displayed than on such occasions. At first she kept Selina leaning on her arm, for the purpose of showing her blushing charms to all, and of actually introducing her to a favored few. But the rooms rapidly filling, and the music being commenced, Lady Eltondale left Miss Seymour under the peculiar protection of the old Dutchess of Saltoun, whose countenance showed how truly she was delighted with her young acquaintance. But Lady Eltondale, in withdrawing from Selina, did not cease to observe all her motions. Nor was she a little gratified at the universal murmur of applause her appearance excited, thus bursting into view in all the