Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth

by Maria Edgeworth

  Mrs. Falconer’s fears of rivalship for her Georgiana were not diminished by this visit. By those of the family whom she saw this day, she judged of Caroline, whom she had not seen; and she had tact sufficient to apprehend, that the conversation and manners of Mrs. Percy and of Rosamond were such as might, perhaps, please a well-bred and well-informed foreigner better, even, than the fashionable tone and air of the day, of which he had not been long enough in England to appreciate the conventional value. Still Mrs. Falconer had a lingering hope that some difficulties about dress, or some happy cold, might prevent these dangerous Percys from accepting the invitation to the ball. When their answers to her card came, she gave one hasty glance at it.

  “Will do themselves the honour.”

  “My dear, you are alarming yourself unnecessarily,” cried the commissioner, who pitied the distress visible, at least to his eyes, in her countenance; or who feared, perhaps, a renewal of reproaches for his own want of address, “quite unnecessarily, believe me. I have had a great deal of conversation with Count Altenberg since I spoke of him to you last, and I am confirmed in my opinion that he merely feels the curiosity natural to an enlightened traveller to become acquainted with Mr. Percy, a man who has been described to him as a person of abilities. And he wants to thank him in the name of his countrymen, who were assisted, you know I told you, by the Percys, at the time of the shipwreck. You will see, my dear, that the ladies of the family will be nothing to him.”

  Mrs. Falconer sighed, and bit her lips.

  “In half an hour’s conversation, I would engage to find out the ruling passion of any man, young or old. Now, remember I tell you, Mrs. Falconer, Count Altenberg’s ruling passion is ambition.”

  “Ruling passion!” repeated Mrs. Falconer; “one of your book-words, and book-notions, that are always misleading you in practice. Ruling passion! — Metaphysical nonsense! As if men were such consistent creatures as to be ruled regularly by one passion — when often ten different passions pull a man, even before your face, ten different ways, and one cannot tell one hour what will be the ruling passion of the next. Tell me the reigning fashion, and I will tell you the ruling passion! — Luckily,” continued Mrs. Falconer, after a pause of deep consideration, “Georgiana is very fashionable — one of the most fashionable young women in England, as the count might have seen when he was in London. But then, on the other hand, whether he is judge enough of English manners — Georgiana must be well dressed — and I know the Count’s taste in dress; I have made myself mistress of that — commissioner, I must trouble you for some money.”

  “Mrs. Falconer, I have no money; and if I had,” said the commissioner, who always lost his temper when that subject was touched upon, “if I had, I would not give it to you to throw away upon such a losing game — a nonsensical speculation! Georgiana has not the least chance, nor has any other English woman, were she as handsome as Venus and dressed in bank notes — why, Mrs. Falconer, since you put me in a passion, I must tell you a secret.”

  But checking himself, Mr. Falconer stood for a moment silent, and went on with “Count Altenberg has made up his quarrel with the hereditary prince, and I have it from undoubted authority, that he is to be the prince’s prime minister when he comes to the throne; and the present prince, you know, as Cunningham says, is so infirm and asthmatic, that he may be carried off at any moment.”

  “Very well — very likely — I am glad of it,” said Mrs. Falconer: “but where’s the secret?”

  “I’ve thought better of that, and I cannot tell it to you. But this much I tell you positively, Mrs. Falconer, that you will lose your labour, if you speculate upon the Count for Georgiana.”

  “Is he married? Answer me that question, and I will ask no more — and that I have a right to ask.”

  “No — not married; but I can tell no more. Only let me beg that you will just put all love notions out of Georgiana’s head and your own, or you’ll make the girl ridiculous, and expose yourself, my dear. But, on the other hand, let there be no deficiency of attention to the count, for all our civilities to him will pay a hundred fold, and, perhaps, sooner than you expect — for he may be prime minister and prime favourite at Cunningham’s court in a month, and of course will have it in his power to forward Cunningham’s interests. That is what I look to, Mrs. Falconer; for I am long-sighted in my views, as you will find.”

  “Well, time will show. I am glad you tell me he positively is not married,” concluded Mrs. Falconer: “as to the rest, we shall see.”

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  The evening appointed for Mrs. Falconer’s ball at length arrived; and all the neighbouring gentry assembled at Falconer-court. They were received by Mrs. Falconer in a splendid saloon, newly furnished for this occasion, which displayed in its decorations the utmost perfection of modern taste and magnificence.

  Mrs. Falconer was fitted, both by art and nature, to adorn a ball-room, and conduct a ball. With that ease of manner which a perfect knowledge of the world and long practice alone can give, she floated round the circle, conscious that she was in her element. Her eye, with one glance, seemed to pervade the whole assembly; her ear divided itself amongst a multitude of voices; and her attention diffused itself over all with equal grace. Yet that attention, universal as it seemed, was nicely discriminative. Mistress of the art of pleasing, and perfectly acquainted with all the shades of politeness, she knew how to dispose them so as to conceal their boundaries, and even their gradation, from all but the most skilful observers. They might, indeed, have formed, from Mrs. Falconer’s reception of each of her guests, an exact estimate of their rank, fashion, and consequence in the world; for by these standards she regulated her opinion, and measured her regard. Every one present knew this to be her theory, and observed it to be her practice towards others; but each flattered themselves by turns that they discovered in her manner a personal exception in their own favour. In the turn of her countenance, the tone of her voice, her smile or her anxiety, in her distant respect or her affectionate familiarity, some distinction was discerned peculiar to each individual.

  The Miss Falconers, stationary at one end of the room, seemed to have adopted manners diametrically opposite to those of their mother: attraction being the principle of the mother, repulsion of the daughters. Encircled amongst a party of young female friends, Miss Falconers, with high-bred airs, confined to their own coterie their exclusive attention.

  They left to their mother the responsibility and all the labour of doing the honours of her own house, whilst they enjoyed the glory of being remarked and wondered at by half the company; a circumstance which, far from embarrassing, seemed obviously to increase their gaiety.

  The ball could not begin till the band of a regiment, quartered in the neighbourhood, arrived. Whilst they were waiting for the music, the Miss Falconers and their party stationed themselves directly opposite to the entrance of the saloon, so as to have a full view of the antechamber through which the company were to pass — no one passed uncensured by this confederacy. The first coup-d’oeil decided the fate of all who appeared, and each of the fair judges vied with the others in the severity of the sentence pronounced on the unfortunate persons who thus came before their merciless tribunal.

  “But I am astonished the Percys do not make their appearance,” cried Miss Georgiana Falconer.

  “Has Sir Robert Percy any one with him?” asked one of the young ladies.

  “I am not speaking of Sir Robert Percy,” replied Miss Georgiana, “but of the other branch, the fallen branch of the Percys — our relations too — but we know nothing of them — only mamma was obliged to ask them for to-night — And, Bell, only conceive how horribly provoking! because they come, we sha’n’t have Sir Robert Percy — just sent to excuse himself.”

  “Abominable! Now, really! — And for people quite out of the world, that nobody ever heard of, except Lord Oldborough, who, ages ago, had some political connexion, I think they say, with the father,” said Miss Arabella.

  �
��No, they met abroad, or something of that sort,” replied Miss Georgiana.

  “Was that it? Very likely — I know nothing about them: I only wish they had stayed at home, where they are so fond of staying, I hear. You know, Georgiana, Buckhurst told us, that when they had something to live upon they never lived like other people, but always were buried alive in the country; and Lady Jane Granville, with her own lips, told me, that, even since they lost their fortune, she had asked one of these girls to town with her and to Tunbridge — Now only conceive how kind! and what an advantage that would have been — And, can you believe it? Mr. Percy was so unaccountable, and they all so odd, that they refused — Lady Jane, of course, will never ask them again. But now, must not they be the silliest creatures in the universe?”

  “Silly! Oh! dear, no: there you are wrong, Bell; for you know they are all so wise, and so learned, so blue, such a deep blue, and all that sort of thing, that, for my part, I shall never dare to open my lips before them.”

  “Fortunately,” said one of the young ladies, “you have not much to fear from their learning at a ball; and as dancers I don’t apprehend you have much to dread from any of them, even from the beauty.”

  “Why, scarcely,” said Miss Georgiana; “I own I shall be curious to see how they will get on—’comment ces savantes se tireront d’affaire.’ I wonder they are not here. Keep your eye on the door, dear Lady Frances — I would not miss their entrée for millions.”

  In vain eyes and glasses were fixed in expectation of the arrival of these devoted objects of ridicule — another, and another, and another came, but not the Percys.

  The band was now ready, and began to play — Count Altenberg entered the room. Quick as grace can venture to move, Mrs. Falconer glided to receive him. Miss Georgiana Falconer, at the same moment, composed her features into their most becoming position, and gave herself a fine air of the head. The Count bowed to her — she fanned herself, and her eye involuntarily glanced, first at a brilliant star he wore, and then at her mother, whilst, with no small degree of anxiety, she prepared to play off, on this decisive evening, all her artillery, to complete her conquest — to complete her victory, for she flattered herself that only the finishing blow was wanting. In this belief her female companions contributed to confirm her, though probably they were all the time laughing at her vanity.

  Mrs. Falconer requested Count Altenberg to open the ball with Lady Frances Arlington. After having obeyed her orders, he next led out Miss Georgiana Falconer, evidently to her satisfaction; the more so, as she was conscious of being, at that moment, the envy of at least half the company.

  Count Altenberg, quite unconscious of being himself the object of any attention, seemed to think only of showing his partner to advantage; if he danced well, it appeared to be only because he habitually moved with ease and dignity, and that whatever he did he looked like a gentleman. His fair partner danced admirably, and now surpassed herself.

  It was repeated to Mrs. Falconer, that Colonel Bremen, the Count’s friend, had told some one that the Count had declared he had never seen any thing equal to Miss Georgiana Falconer, except at the opera at Paris. At this triumphant moment Miss Georgiana could have seen, with security and complacency, the arrival of Miss Caroline Percy. The more prudent mother, however, was well satisfied with her absence. Every thing conspired to Mrs. Falconer’s satisfaction. The ball was far advanced, and no Percys appeared. Mrs. Falconer wondered, and deplored, and at length it came near the hour when supper was ordered — the commissioner inquired whether Mrs. Falconer was certain that she had named the right day on the card?

  “Oh! certain — But it is now so late, I am clear they will not be here to-night.”

  “Very extraordinary, to keep Lord Oldborough’s carriage and servants!” said the commissioner: “they went in time, I am sure, for I saw them set out.”

  “All I know is, that we have done every thing that is proper,” said Mrs. Falconer, “and Lord Oldborough cannot blame us — as to the Count, he seems quite content.”

  Mrs. Falconer’s accent seemed to imply something more than content; but this was not a proper time or place to contest the point. The husband passed on, saying to himself “Absurd!” The wife went on, saying “Obstinate!”

  Count Altenberg had led his partner to a seat, and as soon as he quitted her, the young ladies of her party all flattered her, in congratulatory whispers: one observed that there was certainly something very particular in Count Altenberg’s manner, when he first spoke to Miss Georgiana Falconer; another remarked that he always spoke to Miss Georgiana Falconer with emotion and embarrassment; a third declared that her eye was fixed upon the Count, and she saw him several times change colour — all, in short, agreed that the Count’s heart was Miss Georgiana Falconer’s devoted prize. She the while, with well-affected incredulity and secret complacency, half repressed and half encouraged these remarks by frequent exclamations of “La! how can you think so! — Why will you say such things! — Dear! how can you be so tormenting — so silly, now, to have such fancies! — But did he really change colour?” — In love with her! She wondered how such an idea could ever come into their heads — she should, for her part, never have dreamed of such a thing — indeed, she was positive they were mistaken. Count Altenberg in love with her! — Oh, no, there could be nothing in it.

  Whilst she spoke, her eyes followed the Count, who, quite unconscious of his danger, undisturbed by any idea of Miss Georgiana Falconer and love, two ideas which probably never had entered his mind together, was carelessly walking down the room, his thoughts apparently occupied with the passing scene. He had so much the habit of observing men and manners, without appearing to observe them, that, under an air of gaiety, he carried his understanding, as it were, incognito. His observation glanced on all the company as he passed. Miss Georgiana Falconer lost sight of him as he reached the end of the saloon; he disappeared in the antechamber.

  Soon afterwards a report reached her that the Percy family were arrived; that Count Altenberg had been particularly struck by the sight of one of the Miss Percys, and had been overheard to whisper to his friend Colonel Bremen, “Very like the picture! but still more mind in the countenance!”

  At hearing this, Miss Georgiana Falconer grew first red and then turned pale; Mrs. Falconer, though scarcely less confounded, never changed a muscle of her face, but leaving every body to choose their various comments upon the Count’s words, and simply saying, “Are the Percys come at last?” she won her easy way through the crowd, whispering to young Petcalf as she passed, “Now is your time, Petcalf, my good creature — Georgiana is disengaged.”

  Before Mrs. Falconer got to the antechamber, another report met her, “that the Percys had been overturned, and had been terribly hurt.”

  “Overturned! — terribly hurt! — Good Heavens!” cried Mrs. Falconer, as she entered the antechamber. But the next person told her they were not in the least hurt — still pressing forward, she exclaimed, “Mrs. Percy! Where is Mrs. Percy? My dear madam! what has happened? Come the wrong road, did you? — broken bridge — And were you really overturned?”

  “No, no, only obliged to get out and walk a little way.”

  “Oh! I am sorry — But I am so glad to see you all safe! — When it grew late, I grew so uneasy!” Then turning towards Caroline, “Miss Caroline Percy, I am sure, though I had never, till now, the pleasure of seeing her.”

  An introduction of Caroline by Mrs. Percy, in due form, took place. Mrs. Falconer next recognized Mr. Percy, declared he did not look a day older than when she had seen him fifteen years before — then recurring to the ladies, “But, my dear Mrs. Percy, are you sure that your shoes are not wet through? — Oh! my dear madam, Miss Percy’s are terribly wet! and Miss Caroline’s! — Positively, the young ladies must go to my dressing-room — the shoes must be dried.” Mrs. Falconer said that perhaps her daughters could accommodate the Miss Percys with others.

  It was in vain that Rosamond protested her shoes were not
wet, and that her sister’s were perfectly dry; a few specks on their white justified Mrs. Falconer’s apprehensions.

  “Where is my Arabella? If there was any body I could venture to trouble—”

  Count Altenberg instantly offered his services. “Impossible to trouble you, Count! But since you are so very good, perhaps you could find one of my daughters for me — Miss Falconer — if you are so kind, sir — Georgiana I am afraid is dancing.”

  Miss Falconer was found, and despatched with the Miss Percys, in spite of all they could say to the contrary, to Mrs. Falconer’s dressing-room. Rosamond was permitted, without much difficulty, to do as she pleased; but Mrs. Falconer’s infinite fears lest Caroline should catch her death of cold could not be appeased, till she had submitted to change her shoes.

  “Caroline!” said Rosamond, in a low voice, “Caroline! do not put on those shoes — they are too large — you will never be able to dance in them.”

  “I know that — but I am content. It is better to yield than to debate the point any longer,” said Caroline.

  When they returned to the ball-room, Count Altenberg was in earnest conversation with Mr. Percy; but Mrs. Falconer observed that the Count saw Miss Caroline Percy the moment she re-appeared.

  “Now is not it extraordinary,” thought she, “when Georgiana dances so well! is infinitely more fashionable, and so charmingly dressed! — What can strike him so much in this girl’s appearance?”

  It was not her appearance that struck him. He was too well accustomed to see beauty and fashion in public places to be caught at first sight by a handsome face, or by a young lady’s exhibition of her personal graces at a ball; but a favourable impression had been made on his mind by what he had previously heard of Miss Caroline Percy’s conduct and character: her appearance confirmed this impression precisely, because she had not the practised air of a professed beauty, because she did not seem in the least to be thinking of herself, or to expect admiration. This was really uncommon, and, therefore, it fixed the attention of a man like Count Altenberg. He asked Caroline to dance; she declined dancing. Mr. Temple engaged Rosamond, and the moment he led her away, the Count availed himself of her place, and a conversation commenced, which soon made Mrs. Falconer regret that Caroline had declined dancing. Though the Count was a stranger to the Percy family, yet there were many subjects of common interest of which he knew how to avail himself. He began by speaking of Mr. Alfred Percy, of the pleasure he had had in becoming acquainted with him, of the circumstance which led to this acquaintance: then he passed, to Lord Oldborough — to M. de Tourville — to the shipwreck. He paused at Percy-hall, for he felt for those to whom he was speaking. They understood him, but they did not avoid the subject; he then indulged himself in the pleasure of repeating some of the expressions of attachment to their old landlord, and of honest affection and gratitude, which he had heard from the peasants in the village.