I think, general, ’tis a little like my own.’
Sir Sedley now advancing, seized the back of a chair, which he twirled round for a resting place to his elbow, and exclaimed, ‘You know yourself invincible!’ with an air that showed him languidly prepared for her reproaches: but, to his own surprise, and that of all around him, she only, with a smile and a nod, cried, ‘How do do?’ and immediately turning wholly away from him, addressed herself to Colonel Andover, desiring him to give her the history of who was in the tea room.
At this time a young ensign, who had been engaged at a late dinner in the neighbourhood, stroamed into the ballroom, with the most visible marks of his unfitness for appearing in it; and, in total ignorance of his own condition, went up to Colonel Andover, and, clapping him upon the back, called out, with a loud oath, ‘Colonel, I hope you have taken care to secure to me the prettiest little young angel in the room? You know with what sincerity I despise an old hag.’
The colonel, with some concern, advised him to retire; but, insensible to his counsel, he uttered oath upon oath, and added, ‘I’m not to be played upon, colonel. Beauty in a pretty girl is as necessary an ingredient, as honour in a brave soldier; and I could find in my heart to sink down to the bottom of the Channel every fellow without one, and every dear creature without the other.’
Then, in defiance of all remonstrance, he staggered into the tea room; and, after a short survey, stopped opposite to Indiana, and, swearing aloud she was the handsomest angel he had ever beheld, begged her hand without further ceremony; assuring her he had broken up the best party that had yet been made for him in the county, merely for the joy of dancing with her.
Indiana, to whom not the smallest doubt of the truth of this assertion occurred; and who, not suspecting he was intoxicated, thought his manner the most spirited and gallant she had ever seen, was readily accepting his offer; when Edgar, who saw her danger, started up, and exclaimed: ‘This lady, sir, is engaged to dance the next two dances with me.’
‘The lady did not tell me so, sir!’ cried the ensign, firing.
‘Miss Lynmere,’ replied Edgar, coolly, ‘will pardon me, that on this occasion, my memory has an interest to be better than hers. I believe it is time for us to take our places.’
He then whispered a brief excuse to Camilla, and hurried Indiana to the ballroom.
The ensign, who knew not that she had danced with him the last time, was obliged to submit; while Indiana, not conjecturing the motive that now impelled Edgar, was in a yet brighter blaze of beauty, from an exhilarating notion that there was a contest for the honour of her hand.
Camilla, once more disappointed of Edgar, had now no resource against Mr. Dubster, but the non-arrival of the gloves; for he had talked so publicly of waiting for them to dance with her, that everyone regarded her as engaged.
No new proposition being made for Eugenia, Miss Margland permitted her again to be led out by the handsome stranger.
When she was gone, Mr. Dubster, who kept constantly close to Camilla, said: ‘They tell me, ma’am, that ugly little body’s a great fortune.’
Camilla very innocently asked who he meant.
‘Why that little lame thing, that was here drinking tea with you. Tom Hicks says she’ll have a power of money.’
Camilla, whose sister was deservedly dear to her, looked much displeased; but Mr. Dubster, not perceiving it, continued: ‘He recommended it to me to dance with her myself, from the first, upon that account. But I says to him, says I, I had no notion that a person, who had such a hobble in their gait, would think of such a thing as going to dancing. But there I was out, for as to the women, asking your pardon, ma’am, there’s nothing will put ’em off from their pleasure. But, however, for my part, I had no thought of dancing at all, if it had not been for that young gentleman’s asking me; for I’m not over fond of such jiggets, as they’ve no great use in ’em; only I happened to be this way, upon a little matter of business, so I thought I might as well come and see the hop, as Tom Hicks could contrive to get me a ticket.’
This was the sort of discourse with which Camilla was regaled till the two dances were over; and then, begging her to sit still till he came back, he quitted her, to see what he could do about his gloves.
Edgar, when he returned with Indiana, addressed himself privately to Miss Margland, whom he advised to take the young ladies immediately home; as it would not be possible for him, a second time, to break through the rules of the assembly, and Indiana must, therefore, inevitably accept the young ensign, who already was following and claiming her, and whose condition was obviously improper for the society of ladies.
Miss Margland, extremely pleased with him, for thus protecting her pupil, instantly agreed; and, collecting her three young charges, hastened them downstairs; though the young ensign, inflamed with angry disappointment, uttered the most bitter lamentations at their sudden departure; and though Mr. Dubster, pursuing them to the coach door, called out to Camilla, in a tone of pique and vexation, ‘Why, what are you going for now, ma’am, when I have just got a new pair of gloves, that I have bought o’ purpose?’
A Family Breakfast
In their way home, Edgar apologized to Camilla for again foregoing the promised pleasure of dancing with her, by explaining the situation of the ensign.
Camilla, internally persuaded that any reason would suffice for such an arrangement, where Indiana was its object, scarce listened to an excuse which she considered as unnecessary.
Indiana was eager to view in the glass how her dress and ornaments had borne the shaking of the dance, and curiously impatient to look anew at a face and a figure of which no self-vanity, nor even the adulation of Miss Margland, had taught her a consciousness, such as she had acquired from the adventures of this night. She hastened, therefore, to her apartment as soon as she arrived at Cleves, and there indulged in an examination which forbade all surprise, and commanded equal justice for the admirers and the admired.
Miss Margland, anxious to make her own report to Sir Hugh, accompanied Camilla and Eugenia to his room, where he was still sitting up for them.
She expatiated upon the behaviour of young Mandlebert, in terms that filled the baronet with satisfaction. She exulted in the success of her own measures; and, sinking the circumstance of the intended impartiality of Edgar, enlarged upon his dancing, out of his turn, with Indiana, as at an event which manifested his serious designs beyond all possibility of mistake.
Sir Hugh, in the fullness of his content, promised that when the wedding day arrived, they should all have as fine new gowns as the bride herself.
The next morning, not considering that everyone else would require unusual repose, he got up before his customary hour, from an involuntary hope of accelerating his favourite project; but he had long the breakfast parlour to himself, and became so fatigued and discomfited by fasting and waiting, that when Indiana, who appeared last, but for whom he insisted upon staying, entered the room, he said: ‘My dear, I could really find a pleasure in giving you a little scold, if it were not for setting a bad example, which God forbid! And, indeed, it’s not so much your fault as the ball’s, to which I can never be a sincere friend, unless it be just to answer some particular purpose.’
Miss Margland defended her pupil, and called upon Mandlebert for assistance, which he readily gave. Sir Hugh then was not merely appeased but gratified, and declared, the next moment, with a marked smile at Indiana, that his breakfast he had not relished so well for a twelvemonth, owing to the advantage of not beginning till he had got an appetite.
Soon after, Lionel, galloping across the park, hastily dismounted, and scampered into the parlour.
The zealot for every species of sport, the candidate for every order of whim, was the lighthearted mirthful Lionel. A stranger to reflection, and incapable of care, laughter seemed not merely the bent of his humour, but the necessity of his existence: he pursued it at all seasons, he indulged it upon all occasions. With excellent natural parts, he trifled away all improvement; without any ill temper, he spared no one’s feelings. Yet, though not radically vicious, nor deliberately malevolent, the egotism which urged him to make his own amusement his first pursuit, sacrificed his best friends and first duties, if they stood in its way.
‘Come, my little girls, come!’ cried he, as he entered the room; ‘get your hats and cloaks as fast as possible; there is a public breakfast at Northwick, and you are all expected without delay.’
This sudden invitation occasioned a general commotion. Indiana gave an involuntary jump; Camilla and Eugenia looked delighted; and Miss Margland seemed ready to second the proposition; but Sir Hugh, with some surprise, exclaimed: ‘A public breakfast, my dear boy! why where’s the need of that, when we have got so good a private one?’
‘O, let us go! let us go, uncle!’ cried Indiana. ‘Miss Margland, do pray speak to my uncle to let us go!’
‘Indeed, sir,’ said Miss Margland, ‘it is time now, in all conscience, for the young ladies to see a little more of the world, and that it should be known who they are. I am sure they have been immured long enough, and I only wish you had been at the ball last night, sir, yourself!’
‘Me, Mrs. Margland! Lord help me! what should I do at such a thing as that, with all this gout in my hip?’
‘You would have seen, sir, the fine effects of keeping the young ladies out of society in this manner. Miss Camilla, if I had not prevented it, would have danced with I don’t know who; and as to Miss Eugenia, she was as near as possible to not dancing at all, owing to nobody’s knowing who she was.’
Sir Hugh had no time to reply to this attack, from the urgency of Indiana, and the impetuosity of Lionel, who, applying to Camilla, said: ‘Come, child, ask my uncle yourself, and then we shall go at once.’
Camilla readily made it her own request.
‘My dear,’ answered Sir Hugh, ‘I can’t be so unnatural to deny you a little pleasure, knowing you to be such a merry little whirligig; not but what you’d enjoy yourself just as much at home, if they’d let you alone. However, as Indiana’s head is so much turned upon it, for which I beg you won’t think the worse of her, Mr. Mandlebert, it being no more than the common fault of a young person no older than her; why, you must all go, I think, provided you are not satisfied already, which, by the breakfast you have made, I should think likely enough to be the case.’
They then eagerly arose, and the females hastened to make some change in their dress. Sir Hugh, calling Eugenia back, said: ‘As to you, my little classic, I make but small doubt you will be half ready to break your heart at missing your lesson, knowing hic, haec, hoc, to be dearer to you, and for good reasons enough, too, in the end, than all the hopping and skipping in the world; so if you had rather stay away, don’t mind all those dunces; for so I must needs call them, in comparison to you and Dr. Orkborne, though without the least meaning to undervalue them.’
Eugenia frankly acknowledged she had been much amused the preceding evening, and wished to be again of the party.
‘Why then, if that’s the case,’ said the baronet, the best way will be for Dr. Orkborne to be your squire; by which means you may have a little study as you go along, to the end that the less time may be thrown away in doing nothing.’
Eugenia, who perceived no objection to this idea, assented, and went quietly upstairs, to prepare for setting out. Sir Hugh, by no means connecting the laughter of Lionel, nor the smile of Edgar, with his proposal, gravely repeated it to Dr. Orkborne, adding: ‘And if you want a nice pair of gloves, doctor, not that I make the offer in any detriment to your own, but I had six new pair come home just before my gout, which, I can assure you, have never seen the light since, and are as much at your service as if I had bespoke them on purpose.’
The mirth of Lionel grew now so outrageous, that Dr. Orkborne, much offended, walked out of the room without making any answer.
‘There is something,’ cried Sir Hugh, after a pause, ‘in these men of learning, prodigious nice to deal with; however, not understanding them, in point of their maxims, it’s likely enough I may have done something wrong; for he could not have seemed much more affronted, if I had told him I had six new pair of gloves lying by me, which he should be never the better for.’
When they were all ready, Sir Hugh calling to Edgar, said: ‘Now as I don’t much choose to have my girls go to these sort of places often, which is a prudence that I dare say you approve as much as myself, I would wish to have the most made of them at once; and, therefore, as I’ve no doubt but they’ll strike up a dance, after having eat what they think proper, why I would advise you, Mr.
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