St. Ronan's Well

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE TEA-TABLE.

  ----While the cups, Which cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each.

  COWPER.

  It was common at the Well, for the fair guests occasionally to give teato the company,--such at least as from their rank and leading in thelittle society, might be esteemed fit to constitute themselvespatronesses of an evening; and the same lady generally carried theauthority she had acquired into the ball-room, where two fiddles and abass, at a guinea a night, with a _quantum sufficit_ of tallow candles,(against the use of which Lady Penelope often mutinied,) enabled thecompany--to use the appropriate phrase--"to close the evening on thelight fantastic toe."

  On the present occasion, the lion of the hour, Mr. Francis Tyrrel, hadso little answered the high-wrought expectations of Lady Penelope, thatshe rather regretted having ever given herself any trouble about him,and particularly that of having manoeuvred herself into the patronageof the tea-table for the evening, to the great expenditure of souchongand congo. Accordingly, her ladyship had no sooner summoned her ownwoman, and her _fille de chambre_, to make tea, with her page, footman,and postilion, to hand it about, (in which duty they were assisted bytwo richly-laced and thickly-powdered footmen of Lady Binks's, whoseliveries put to shame the more modest garb of Lady Penelope's, and evendimmed the glory of the suppressed coronet upon the buttons,) than shebegan to vilipend and depreciate what had been so long the object of hercuriosity.

  "This Mr. Tyrrel," she said, in a tone of authoritative decision, "seemsafter all a very ordinary sort of person, quite a commonplace man, who,she dared say, had considered his condition, in going to the oldalehouse, much better than they had done for him, when they asked him tothe Public Rooms. He had known his own place better than they did--therewas nothing uncommon in his appearance or conversation--nothing at all_frappant_--she scarce believed he could even draw that sketch. Mr.Winterblossom, indeed, made a great deal of it; but then all the worldknew that every scrap of engraving or drawing, which Mr. Winterblossomcontrived to make his own, was, the instant it came into his collection,the finest thing that ever was seen--that was the way withcollectors--their geese were all swans."

  "And your ladyship's swan has proved but a goose, my dearest Lady Pen,"said Lady Binks.

  "_My_ swan, dearest Lady Binks! I really do not know how I have deservedthe appropriation."

  "Do not be angry, my dear Lady Penelope; I only mean, that for afortnight and more you have spoke constantly _of_ this Mr. Tyrrel, andall dinner-time you spoke _to_ him."

  The fair company began to collect around, at hearing the word _dear_ sooften repeated in the same brief dialogue, which induced them to expectsport, and, like the vulgar on a similar occasion, to form a ring forthe expected combatants.

  "He sat betwixt us, Lady Binks," answered Lady Penelope, with dignity."You had your usual headache, you know, and, for the credit of thecompany, I spoke for one."

  "For _two_, if your ladyship pleases," replied Lady Binks. "I mean," sheadded, softening the expression, "for yourself and me."

  "I am sorry," said Lady Penelope, "I should have spoken for one who canspeak so smartly for herself, as my dear Lady Binks--I did not, by anymeans, desire to engross the conversation--I repeat it, there is amistake about this man."

  "I think there is," said Lady Binks, in a tone which implied somethingmore than mere assent to Lady Penelope's proposition.

  "I doubt if he is an artist at all," said the Lady Penelope; "or if heis, he must be doing things for some Magazine, or Encyclopedia, or somesuch matter."

  "_I_ doubt, too, if he be a professional artist," said Lady Binks. "Ifso, he is of the very highest class, for I have seldom seen abetter-bred man."

  "There are very well-bred artists," said Lady Penelope. "It is theprofession of a gentleman."

  "Certainly," answered Lady Binks; "but the poorer class have often tostruggle with poverty and dependence. In general society, they are likecommercial people in presence of their customers; and that is adifficult part to sustain. And so you see them of all sorts--shy andreserved, when they are conscious of merit--petulant and whimsical, byway of showing their independence--intrusive, in order to appeareasy--and sometimes obsequious and fawning, when they chance to be of amean spirit. But you seldom see them quite at their ease, and thereforeI hold this Mr. Tyrrel to be either an artist of the first class, raisedcompletely above the necessity and degradation of patronage, or else tobe no professional artist at all."

  Lady Penelope looked at Lady Binks with much such a regard as Balaam mayhave cast upon his ass, when he discovered the animal's capacity forholding an argument with him. She muttered to herself--

  _"Mon ane parle, et meme il parle bien!"_

  But, declining the altercation which Lady Binks seemed disposed to enterinto, she replied, with good-humour, "Well, dearest Rachel, we will notpull caps about this man--nay, I think your good opinion of him giveshim new value in my eyes. That is always the way with us, my goodfriend! We may confess it, when there are none of these conceited malewretches among us. We will know what he really is--he shall not wearfern-seed, and walk among us invisible thus--what say you, Maria?"

  "Indeed, I say, dear Lady Penelope," answered Miss Digges, whose readychatter we have already introduced to the reader, "he is a very handsomeman, though his nose is too big, and his mouth too wide--but his teethare like pearl--and he has such eyes!--especially when your ladyshipspoke to him. I don't think you looked at his eyes--they are quite deepand dark, and full of glow, like what you read to us in the letter fromthat lady, about Robert Burns."

  "Upon my word, miss, you come on finely!" said Lady Penelope.--"One hadneed take care what they read or talk about before you, I see--Come,Jones, have mercy upon us--put an end to that symphony of tinkling cupsand saucers, and let the first act of the tea-table begin, if youplease."

  "Does her leddyship mean the grace?" said honest Mrs. Blower, for thefirst time admitted into this worshipful society, and busily employed inarranging an Indian handkerchief, that might have made a mainsail forone of her husband's smuggling luggers, which she spread carefully onher knee, to prevent damage to a flowered black silk gown from therepast of tea and cake, to which she proposed to do due honour--"Doesher leddyship mean the grace? I see the minister is just coming in.--Herleddyship waits till ye say a blessing, an ye please, sir."

  Mr. Winterblossom, who _toddled_ after the chaplain, his toe havinggiven him an alert hint to quit the dining-table, though he saw everyfeature in the poor woman's face swoln with desire to procureinformation concerning the ways and customs of the place, passed on theother side of the way, regardless of her agony of curiosity.

  A moment after, she was relieved by the entrance of Dr. Quackleben,whose maxim being, that one patient was as well worth attention asanother, and who knew by experience, that the _honoraria_ of a godlywife of the Bow-head were as apt to be forthcoming, (if not more so,) asmy Lady Penelope's, he e'en sat himself quietly down by Mrs. Blower, andproceeded with the utmost kindness to enquire after her health, and tohope she had not forgotten taking a table-spoonful of spirits burnt to a_residuum_, in order to qualify the crudities.

  "Indeed, Doctor," said the honest woman, "I loot the brandy burn as langas I dought look at the gude creature wasting itsell that gate--andthen, when I was fain to put it out for very thrift, I did take athimbleful of it, (although it is not the thing I am used to, Dr.Quackleben,) and I winna say but that it did me good."

  "Unquestionably, madam," said the Doctor, "I am no friend to the use ofalcohol in general, but there are particular cases--there are particularcases, Mrs. Blower--My venerated instructor, one of the greatest men inour profession that ever lived, took a wine-glassful of old rum, mixedwith sugar, every day after his dinner."

  "Ay? dear heart, he would be a comfortable doctor that," said Mrs.Blower. "He wad maybe ken something of my case. Is he leevin' think ye,sir?"

  "Dead for many years, madam," said Dr. Quackleben; "and
there are butfew of his pupils that can fill his place, I assure ye. If I could bethought an exception, it is only because I was a favourite. Ah!blessings on the old red cloak of him!--It covered more of the healingscience than the gowns of a whole modern university."

  "There is ane, sir," said Mrs. Blower, "that has been muckle recommendedabout Edinburgh--Macgregor, I think they ca' him--folk come far and nearto see him."[I-15]

  "I know whom you mean, ma'am--a clever man--no denying it--a cleverman--but there are certain cases--yours, for example--and I think thatof many that come to drink this water--which I cannot say I think heperfectly understands--hasty--very hasty and rapid. Now I--I give thedisease its own way at first--then watch it, Mrs. Blower--watch the turnof the tide."

  "Ay, troth, that's true," responded the widow; "John Blower was ayewatching turn of tide, puir man."

  "Then he is a starving doctor, Mrs. Blower--reduces diseases as soldiersdo towns--by famine, not considering that the friendly inhabitantssuffer as much as the hostile garrison--ahem!"

  Here he gave an important and emphatic cough, and then proceeded.

  "I am no friend either to excess or to violent stimulus, Mrs.Blower--but nature must be supported--a generous diet--cordialsjudiciously thrown in--not without the advice of a medical man--that ismy opinion, Mrs. Blower, to speak as a friend--others may starve theirpatients if they have a mind."

  "It wadna do for me, the starving, Dr. Keekerben," said the alarmedrelict,--"it wadna do for me at a'--Just a' I can do to wear through theday with the sma' supports that nature requires--not a soul to lookafter me, Doctor, since John Blower was ta'en awa.--Thank ye kindly,sir," (to the servant who handed the tea,)--"thank ye, my bonny man,"(to the page who served the cake)--"Now, dinna ye think, Doctor," (in alow and confidential voice,) "that her leddyship's tea is rather of theweakliest--water bewitched, I think--and Mrs. Jones, as they ca' her,has cut the seedcake very thin?"

  "It is the fashion, Mrs. Blower," answered Dr. Quackleben; "and herladyship's tea is excellent. But your taste is a little chilled, whichis not uncommon at the first use of the waters, so that you are notsensible of the flavour--we must support the system--reinforce thedigestive powers--give me leave--you are a stranger, Mrs. Blower, and wemust take care of you--I have an elixir which will put that matter torights in a moment."

  So saying, Dr. Quackleben pulled from his pocket a small portable caseof medicines--"Catch me without my tools,"--he said; "here I have thereal useful pharmacopoeia--the rest is all humbug and hard names--thislittle case, with a fortnight or month, spring and fall, at St. Ronan'sWell, and no one will die till his day come."

  Thus boasting, the Doctor drew from his case a large vial or smallflask, full of a high-coloured liquid, of which he mixed threetea-spoonfuls in Mrs. Blower's cup, who, immediately afterwards, allowedthat the flavour was improved beyond all belief, and that it was "veracomfortable and restorative indeed."

  "Will it not do good to my complaints, Doctor?" said Mr. Winterblossom,who had strolled towards them, and held out his cup to the physician.

  "I by no means recommend it, Mr. Winterblossom," said Dr. Quackleben,shutting up his case with great coolness; "your case is oedematous,and you treat it your own way--you are as good a physician as I am, andI never interfere with another practitioner's patient."

  "Well, Doctor," said Winterblossom, "I must wait till Sir Bingo comesin--he has a hunting-flask usually about him, which contains as goodmedicine as yours to the full."

  "You will wait for Sir Bingo some time," said the Doctor; "he is agentleman of sedentary habits--he has ordered another magnum."

  "Sir Bingo is an unco name for a man o' quality, dinna ye think sae, Dr.Cocklehen?" said Mrs. Blower. "John Blower, when he was a wee bit in thewind's eye, as he ca'd it, puir fallow--used to sing a sang about a dogthey ca'd Bingo, that suld hae belanged to a farmer."

  "Our Bingo is but a puppy yet, madam--or if a dog, he is a sad dog,"said Mr. Winterblossom, applauding his own wit, by one of his owninimitable smiles.

  "Or a mad dog, rather," said Mr. Chatterly, "for he drinks no water;"and he also smiled gracefully at the thoughts of having trumped, as itwere, the president's pun.

  "Twa pleasant men, Doctor," said the widow, "and so is Sir Bungy too,for that matter; but O! is nae it a pity he should bide sae lang by thebottle? It was puir John Blower's faut too, that weary tippling; when hewan to the lee-side of a bowl of punch, there was nae raising him.--Butthey are taking awa the things, and, Doctor, is it not an awfu' thingthat the creature-comforts should hae been used without grace orthanksgiving?--that Mr. Chitterling, if he really be a minister, hasmuckle to answer for, that he neglects his Master's service."

  "Why, madam," said the Doctor, "Mr. Chatterly is scarce arrived at therank of a minister plenipotentiary."

  "A minister potentiary--ah, Doctor, I doubt that is some jest of yours,"said the widow; "that's sae like puir John Blower. When I wad hae hadhim gie up the lovely Peggy, ship and cargo, (the vessel was named afterme, Doctor Kittleben,) to be remembered in the prayers o' thecongregation, he wad say to me, 'they may pray that stand the risk,Peggy Bryce, for I've made insurance.' He was a merry man, Doctor; buthe had the root of the matter in him, for a' his light way of speaking,as deep as ony skipper that ever loosed anchor from Leith Roads. I haebeen a forsaken creature since his death--O the weary days and nightsthat I have had!--and the weight on the spirits--the spirits,Doctor!--though I canna say I hae been easier since I hae been at theWall than even now--if I kend what I was awing ye for elickstir, Doctor,for it's done me muckle heart's good, forby the opening of my mind toyou."

  "Fie, fie, ma'am," said the Doctor, as the widow pulled out a seal-skinpouch, such as sailors carry tobacco in, but apparently well stuffedwith bank-notes,--"Fie, fie, madam--I am no apothecary--I have mydiploma from Leyden--a regular physician, madam,--the elixir is heartilyat your service; and should you want any advice, no man will be prouderto assist you than your humble servant."

  "I am sure I am muckle obliged to your kindness, Dr. Kickalpin," saidthe widow, folding up her pouch; "this was puir John Blower's_spleuchan_,[I-16] as they ca' it--I e'en wear it for his sake. He was akind man, and left me comfortable in warld's gudes; but comforts haetheir cumbers,--to be a lone woman is a sair weird, Dr. Kittlepin."

  Dr. Quackleben drew his chair a little nearer that of the widow, andentered into a closer communication with her, in a tone doubtless ofmore delicate consolation than was fit for the ears of the company atlarge.

  One of the chief delights of a watering-place is, that every one'saffairs seem to be put under the special surveillance of the wholecompany, so that, in all probability, the various flirtations,_liaisons_, and so forth, which naturally take place in the society, arenot only the subject of amusement to the parties engaged, but also tothe lookers on; that is to say, generally speaking, to the wholecommunity, of which for the time the said parties are members. LadyPenelope, the presiding goddess of the region, watchful over all hercircle, was not long of observing that the Doctor seemed to be suddenlyengaged in close communication with the widow, and that he had evenventured to take hold of her fair plump hand, with a manner whichpartook at once of the gallant suitor, and of the medical adviser.

  "For the love of Heaven," said her ladyship, "who can that comely damebe, on whom our excellent and learned Doctor looks with such uncommonregard?"

  "Fat, fair, and forty," said Mr. Winterblossom; "that is all I know ofher--a mercantile person."

  "A carrack, Sir President," said the chaplain, "richly laden withcolonial produce, by name the Lovely Peggy Bryce--no master--the lateJohn Blower of North Leith having pushed off his boat for the StygianCreek, and left the vessel without a hand on board."

  "The Doctor," said Lady Penelope, turning her glass towards them, "seemswilling to play the part of pilot."

  "I dare say he will be willing to change her name and register," saidMr. Chatterly.

  "He can be no less in common requital," said Winterblossom. "Sh
e haschanged _his_ name six times in the five minutes that I stood withinhearing of them."

  "What do you think of the matter, my dear Lady Binks?" said LadyPenelope.

  "Madam?" said Lady Binks, starting from a reverie, and answering as onewho either had not heard, or did not understand the question.

  "I mean, what think you of what is going on yonder?"

  Lady Binks turned her glass in the direction of Lady Penelope's glance,fixed the widow and the Doctor with one bold fashionable stare, and thendropping her hand slowly, said with indifference, "I really see nothingthere worth thinking about."

  "I dare say it is a fine thing to be married," said Lady Penelope;"one's thoughts, I suppose, are so much engrossed with one's own perfecthappiness, that they have neither time nor inclination to laugh likeother folks. Miss Rachel Bonnyrigg would have laughed till her eyes ranover, had she seen what Lady Binks cares so little about--I dare say itmust be an all-sufficient happiness to be married."

  "He would be a happy man that could convince your ladyship of that ingood earnest," said Mr. Winterblossom.

  "Oh, who knows--the whim may strike me," replied the lady; "butno--no--no;--and that is three times."

  "Say it sixteen times more," said the gallant president, "and letnineteen nay-says be a grant."

  "If I should say a thousand Noes, there exists not the alchymy in livingman that could extract one Yes out of the whole mass," said herladyship. "Blessed be the memory of Queen Bess!--She set us all anexample to keep power when we have it--What noise is that?"

  "Only the usual after-dinner quarrel," said the divine. "I hear theCaptain's voice, else most silent, commanding them to keep peace, in thedevil's name and that of the ladies."

  "Upon my word, dearest Lady Binks, this is too bad of that lord andmaster of yours, and of Mowbray, who might have more sense, and of therest of that claret-drinking set, to be quarrelling and alarming ournerves every evening with presenting their pistols perpetually at eachother, like sportsmen confined to the house upon a rainy 12th of August.I am tired of the Peace-maker--he but skins the business over in onecase to have it break out elsewhere.--What think you, love, if we wereto give out in orders, that the next quarrel which may arise, shall be_bona fide_ fought to an end?--We will all go out and see it, and wearthe colours on each side; and if there should a funeral come of it, wewill attend it in a body.--Weeds are so becoming!--Are they not, my dearLady Binks? Look at Widow Blower in her deep black--don't you envy her,my love?"

  Lady Binks seemed about to make a sharp and hasty answer, but checkedherself, perhaps under the recollection that she could not prudentlycome to an open breach with Lady Penelope.--At the same moment the dooropened, and a lady dressed in a riding-habit, and wearing a black veilover her hat, appeared at the entry of the apartment.

  "Angels and ministers of grace!" exclaimed Lady Penelope, with her verybest tragic start--"my dearest Clara, why so late? and why thus? Willyou step to my dressing-room--Jones will get you one of my gowns--we arejust of a size, you know--do, pray--let me be vain of something of myown for once, by seeing you wear it."

  This was spoken in the tone of the fondest female friendship, and at thesame time the fair hostess bestowed on Miss Mowbray one of those tendercaresses, which ladies--God bless them!--sometimes bestow on each otherwith unnecessary prodigality, to the great discontent and envy of themale spectators.

  "You are fluttered, my dearest Clara--you are feverish--I am sure youare," continued the sweetly anxious Lady Penelope; "let me persuade youto lie down."

  "Indeed you are mistaken, Lady Penelope," said Miss Mowbray, who seemedto receive much as a matter of course her ladyship's profusion ofaffectionate politeness:--"I am heated, and my pony trotted hard, thatis the whole mystery.--Let me have a cup of tea, Mrs. Jones, and thematter is ended."

  "Fresh tea, Jones, directly," said Lady Penelope, and led her passivefriend to her own corner, as she was pleased to call the recess, inwhich she held her little court--ladies and gentlemen curtsying andbowing as she passed; to which civilities the new guest made no morereturn, than the most ordinary politeness rendered unavoidable.

  Lady Binks did not rise to receive her, but sat upright in her chair,and bent her head very stiffly; a courtesy which Miss Mowbray returnedin the same stately manner, without farther greeting on either side.

  "Now, wha can that be, Doctor?" said the Widow Blower--"mind ye havepromised to tell me all about the grand folk--wha can that be that LeddyPenelope hauds such a racket wi'?--and what for does she come wi' ahabit and a beaver-hat, when we are a' (a glance at her own gown) in oursilks and satins?"

  "To tell you who she is, my dear Mrs. Blower, is very easy," said theofficious Doctor. "She is Miss Clara Mowbray, sister to the Lord of theManor--the gentleman who wears the green coat, with an arrow on thecape. To tell why she wears that habit, or does any thing else, would berather beyond doctor's skill. Truth is, I have always thought she was alittle--a very little--touched--call it nerves--hypochondria--or whatyou will."

  "Lord help us, puir thing!" said the compassionate widow.--"And troth itlooks like it. But it's a shame to let her go loose, Doctor--she mighthurt hersell, or somebody. See, she has ta'en the knife!--O, it's onlyto cut a shave of the diet-loaf. She winna let the powder-monkey of aboy help her. There's judgment in that though, Doctor, for she can cutthick or thin as she likes.--Dear me! she has not taken mair than acrumb, than ane would pit between the wires of a canary-bird's cage,after all.--I wish she would lift up that lang veil, or put off thatriding-skirt, Doctor. She should really be showed the regulations,Doctor Kickelshin."

  "She cares about no rules we can make, Mrs. Blower," said the Doctor;"and her brother's will and pleasure, and Lady Penelope's whim ofindulging her, carry her through in every thing. They should takeadvice on her case."

  "Ay, truly, it's time to take advice, when young creatures like hercaper in amang dressed leddies, just as if they were come fromscampering on Leith sands.--Such a wark as my leddy makes wi' her,Doctor! Ye would think they were baith fools of a feather."

  "They might have flown on one wing, for what I know," said Dr.Quackleben; "but there was early and sound advice taken in LadyPenelope's case. My friend, the late Earl of Featherhead, was a man ofjudgment--did little in his family but by rule of medicine--so that,what with the waters, and what with my own care, Lady Penelope is onlyfreakish--fanciful--that's all--and her quality bears it out--thepeccant principle might have broken out under other treatment."

  "Ay--she has been weel-friended," said the widow; "but this bairnMowbray, puir thing! how came she to be sae left to hersell?"

  "Her mother was dead--her father thought of nothing but his sports,"said the Doctor. "Her brother was educated in England, and cared fornobody but himself, if he had been here. What education she got was ather own hand--what reading she read was in a library full of oldromances--what friends or company she had was what chance sent her--thenno family-physician, not even a good surgeon, within ten miles! And soyou cannot wonder if the poor thing became unsettled."

  "Puir thing!--no doctor!--nor even a surgeon!--But, Doctor," said thewidow, "maybe the puir thing had the enjoyment of her health, ye ken,and, then"----

  "Ah! ha, ha!--why _then_, madam, she needed a physician far more than ifshe had been delicate. A skilful physician, Mrs. Blower, knows how tobring down that robust health, which is a very alarming state of theframe when it is considered _secundum artem_. Most sudden deaths happenwhen people are in a robust state of health. Ah! that state of perfecthealth is what the doctor dreads most on behalf of his patient."

  "Ay, ay, Doctor?--I am quite sensible, nae doubt," said the widow, "ofthe great advantage of having a skeelfu' person about ane."

  Here the Doctor's voice, in his earnestness to convince Mrs. Blower ofthe danger of supposing herself capable of living and breathing withouta medical man's permission, sunk into a soft pleading tone, of which ourreporter could not catch the sound. He was, as great orators willsometimes be, "inaudible in t
he gallery."

  Meanwhile, Lady Penelope overwhelmed Clara Mowbray with her caresses. Inwhat degree her ladyship, at her heart, loved this young person, mightbe difficult to ascertain,--probably in the degree in which a childloves a favourite toy. But Clara was a toy not always to be come by--aswhimsical in her way as her ladyship in her own, only that poor Clara'ssingularities were real, and her ladyship's chiefly affected. Withoutadopting the harshness of the Doctor's conclusions concerning theformer, she was certainly unequal in her spirits; and her occasionalfits of levity were chequered by very long intervals of sadness. Herlevity also appeared, in the world's eye, greater than it really was;for she had never been under the restraint of society which was reallygood, and entertained an undue contempt for that which she sometimesmingled with; having unhappily none to teach her the important truth,that some forms and restraints are to be observed, less in respect toothers than to ourselves. Her dress, her manners, and her ideas, weretherefore very much her own; and though they became her wonderfully,yet, like Ophelia's garlands, and wild snatches of melody, they werecalculated to excite compassion and melancholy, even while they amusedthe observer.

  "And why came you not to dinner?--We expected you--your throne wasprepared."

  "I had scarce come to tea," said Miss Mowbray, "of my own freewill. Butmy brother says your ladyship proposes to come to Shaws-Castle, and heinsisted it was quite right and necessary, to confirm you in soflattering a purpose, that I should come and say, Pray do, LadyPenelope; and so now here am I to say, Pray, do come."

  "Is an invitation so flattering limited to me alone, my dearClara?--Lady Binks will be jealous."

  "Bring Lady Binks, if she has the condescension to honour us"--[a bowwas very stiffly exchanged between the ladies]--"bring Mr.Springblossom--Winterblossom--and all the lions and lionesses--we haveroom for the whole collection. My brother, I suppose, will bring his ownparticular regiment of bears, which, with the usual assortment ofmonkeys seen in all caravans, will complete the menagerie. How you areto be entertained at Shaws-Castle, is, I thank Heaven, not my business,but John's."

  "We shall want no formal entertainment, my love," said Lady Penelope; "a_dejeuner a la fourchette_--we know, Clara, you would die of doing thehonours of a formal dinner."

  "Not a bit; I should live long enough to make my will, and bequeath alllarge parties to old Nick, who invented them."

  "Miss Mowbray," said Lady Binks, who had been thwarted by thisfree-spoken young lady, both in her former character of a coquette andromp, and in that of a prude which she at present wore--"Miss Mowbraydeclares for

  'Champagne and a chicken at last.'"

  "The chicken without the champagne, if you please," said Miss Mowbray;"I have known ladies pay dear to have champagne on the board.--By theby, Lady Penelope, you have not your collection in the same order anddiscipline as Pidcock and Polito. There was much growling and snarlingin the lower den when I passed it."

  "It was feeding-time, my love," said Lady Penelope; "and the loweranimals of every class become pugnacious at that hour--you see all oursafer and well-conditioned animals are loose, and in good order."

  "Oh, yes--in the keeper's presence, you know--Well, I must venture tocross the hall again among all that growling and grumbling--I would Ihad the fairy prince's quarters of mutton to toss among them if theyshould break out--He, I mean, who fetched water from the Fountain ofLions. However, on second thoughts, I will take the back way, and avoidthem.--What says honest Bottom?--

  'For if they should as lions come in strife Into such place, 'twere pity of their life.'"

  "Shall I go with you, my dear?" said Lady Penelope.

  "No--I have too great a soul for that--I think some of them are lionsonly as far as the hide is concerned."

  "But why would you go so soon, Clara?"

  "Because my errand is finished--have I not invited you and yours? andwould not Lord Chesterfield himself allow I have done the polite thing?"

  "But you have spoke to none of the company--how can you be so odd, mylove?" said her ladyship.

  "Why, I spoke to them all when I spoke to you and Lady Binks--but I am agood girl, and will do as I am bid."

  So saying, she looked round the company, and addressed each of them withan affectation of interest and politeness, which thinly concealed scornand contempt.

  "Mr. Winterblossom, I hope the gout is better--Mr. Robert Rymar--(I haveescaped calling him Thomas for once)--I hope the public giveencouragement to the muses--Mr. Keelavine, I trust your pencil isbusy--Mr. Chatterly, I have no doubt your flock improves--Dr.Quackleben, I am sure your patients recover--These are all the especialsof the worthy company I know--for the rest, health to the sick, andpleasure to the healthy!"

  "You are not going in reality, my love?" said Lady Penelope; "thesehasty rides agitate your nerves--they do, indeed--you should becautious--Shall I speak to Quackleben?"

  "To neither Quack nor quackle, on my account, my dear lady. It is not asyou would seem to say, by your winking at Lady Binks--it is not,indeed--I shall be no Lady Clementina, to be the wonder and pity of thespring of St. Ronan's--No Ophelia neither--though I will say with her,Good-night, ladies--Good night, sweet ladies!--and now--not my coach, mycoach--but my horse, my horse!"

  So saying, she tripped out of the room by a side passage, leaving theladies looking at each other significantly, and shaking their heads withan expression of much import.

  "Something has ruffled the poor unhappy girl," said Lady Penelope; "Inever saw her so very odd before."

  "Were I to speak my mind," said Lady Binks, "I think, as Mrs. Highmoresays in the farce, her madness is but a poor excuse for herimpertinence."

  "Oh fie! my sweet Lady Binks," said Lady Penelope, "spare my poorfavourite! You, surely, of all others, should forgive the excesses of anamiable eccentricity of temper.--Forgive me, my love, but I must defendan absent friend--My Lady Binks, I am very sure, is too generous andcandid to

  'Hate for arts which caused herself to rise.'"

  "Not being conscious of any high elevation, my lady," answered LadyBinks, "I do not know any arts I have been under the necessity ofpractising to attain it. I suppose a Scotch lady of an ancient familymay become the wife of an English baronet, and no very extraordinarygreat cause to wonder at it."

  "No, surely--but people in this world will, you know, wonder atnothing," answered Lady Penelope.

  "If you envy me my poor quiz, Sir Bingo, I'll get you a better, LadyPen."

  "I don't doubt your talents, my dear, but when I want one, I will getone for myself.--But here comes the whole party of quizzes.--Joliffe,offer the gentlemen tea--then get the floor ready for the dancers, andset the card-tables in the next room."

  FOOTNOTES:

  [I-15] The late Dr. Gregory is probably intimated, as one of thecelebrated Dr. Cullen's personal habits is previously mentioned. Dr.Gregory was distinguished for putting his patients on a severe regimen.

  [I-16] A fur pouch for keeping tobacco.