Pelham — Complete
Page 11
CHAPTER XI.
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses, False wits, false wives,false virgins, and false spouses.--Goldsmith's Epilogue to the Comedyof the Sisters.
Madame D'Anville kept her promise--the invitation was duly sent, andaccordingly at half past ten to the Rue D'Anjou I drove.
The rooms were already full. Lord Bennington was standing by the door,and close by him, looking exceedingly distrait, was my old friend LordVincent. They both came towards me at the same moment. "Strive not,"thought I, looking at the stately demeanour of the one, and thehumourous expression of countenance in the other--"strive not, Tragedynor Comedy, to engross a Garrick." I spoke first to Lord Bennington, forI knew he would be the sooner dispatched, and then for the next quarterof an hour found myself overflowed with all the witticisms poor LordVincent had for days been obliged to retain. I made an engagement todine with him at Very's the next day, and then glided off towards MadameD'Anville.
She was surrounded with men, and talking to each with that vivacitywhich, in a Frenchwoman, is so graceful, and in an Englishwoman wouldbe so vulgar. Though her eyes were not directed towards me, she saw meapproach by that instinctive perception which all coquets possess, andsuddenly altering her seat, made way for me beside her. I did not loseso favourable an opportunity of gaining her good graces, and losingthose of all the male animals around her. I sunk down on the vacantchair, and contrived, with the most unabashed effrontery, and yet withthe most consummate dexterity, to make every thing that I said pleasingto her, revolting to some one of her attendants. Wormwood himself couldnot have succeeded better. One by one they dropped off, and we were leftalone among the crowd. Then, indeed, I changed the whole tone of myconversation. Sentiment succeeded to satire, and the pretence of feelingto that of affectation. In short, I was so resolved to please that Icould scarcely fail to succeed.
In this main object of the evening I was not however solely employed.I should have been very undeserving of that character for observationwhich I flatter myself I peculiarly deserve, if I had not duringthe three hours I stayed at Madame D--g's, conned over every personremarkable for any thing, from rank to a ribbon. The duchesse herselfwas a fair, pretty, clever woman, with manners rather English thanFrench. She was leaning, at the time I paid my respects to her, on thearm of an Italian count, tolerably well known at Paris. Poor O--i! Ihear he is just married. He did not deserve so heavy a calamity!
Sir Henry Millington was close by her, carefully packed up in his coatand waistcoat. Certainly that man is the best padder in Europe.
"Come and sit by me, Millington," cried old Lady Oldtown; "I have a goodstory to tell you of the Duc de G--e."
Sir Henry, with difficulty, turned round his magnificent head, andmuttered out some unintelligible excuse. The fact was, that poor SirHenry was not that evening made to sit down--he had only his standingup coat on. Lady Oldtown--heaven knows--is easily consoled. She suppliedthe place of the dilapidated baronet with a most superbly mustachioedGerman.
"Who," said I, to Madame D'Anville, "are those pretty girls in white,talking with such eagerness to Mr. Aberton and Lord Luscombe?"
"What!" said the Frenchwoman, "have you been ten days at Paris andnot been introduced to the Miss Carltons? Let me tell you that yourreputation among your countrymen at Paris depends solely upon theirverdict."
"And upon your favour," added I.
"Ah!" said she, "you must have had your origin in France; you havesomething about you presque Parisien."
"Pray," said I, (after having duly acknowledged this compliment, thevery highest that a Frenchwoman can bestow) "what did you really andcandidly think of our countrymen during your residence in England?"
"I will tell you," answered Madame D'Anville; "they are brave, honest,generous, mais ils sont demi-barbares."