The Absentee (15 page)

As they proceeded and walked through the grounds, from which Mrs.
Raffarty, though she had done her best, could not take that which nature
had given, she pointed out to my lord 'a happy moving termination,'
consisting of a Chinese bridge, with a fisherman leaning over the rails.
On a sudden, the fisherman was seen to tumble over the bridge into the
water.

The gentlemen ran to extricate the poor fellow, while they heard Mrs.
Raffarty bawling to his lordship, to beg he would never mind, and not
trouble himself.

When they arrived at the bridge, they saw the man hanging from part
of the bridge, and apparently struggling in the water; but when they
attempted to pull him up, they found it was only a stuffed figure which
had been pulled into the stream by a real fish, which had seized hold of
the bait.

Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman's fall, and by the laughter
it occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently to be happily
ridiculous during the remainder of the walk, nor till dinner was
announced, when she apologised for 'having changed the collation, at
first intended, into a dinner, which she hoped would be found no bad
substitute, and which she flattered herself might prevail on my lord and
the gentlemen to sleep, as there was no moon.'

The dinner had two great faults—profusion and pretension. There was,
in fact, ten times more on the table than was necessary; and the
entertainment was far above the circumstances of the person by whom it
was given; for instance, the dish of fish at the head of the table had
been brought across the island from Sligo, and had cost five guineas; as
the lady of the house failed not to make known. But, after all, things
were not of a piece; there was a disparity between the entertainment and
the attendants; there was no proportion or fitness of things—a painful
endeavour at what could not be attained, and a toiling in vain to
conceal and repair deficiencies and blunders. Had the mistress of the
house been quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst would say, but let things
alone, let things take their course, all would have passed off with
well-bred people; but she was incessantly apologising, and fussing,
and fretting inwardly and outwardly, and directing and calling to
her servants—striving to make a butler who was deaf, a boy who was
hare-brained, do the business of five accomplished footmen of PARTS and
FIGURE. The mistress of the house called for 'plates, clean plates!-hot
plates!'

'But none did come, when she did call for them.'

Mrs. Raffarty called 'Larry! Larry! My lord's plate, there!—James!
bread to Captain Bowles!—James! port wine to the major!—James! James
Kenny! James!'

'And panting James toiled after her in vain.'

At length one course was fairly got through, and after a torturing
half-hour, the second course appeared, and James Kenny was intent upon
one thing, and Larry upon another, so that the wine-sauce for the hare
was spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little
chance that the whole of this second course should ever be placed
altogether rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat, and
nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and set Larry after Kenny, and Kenny
after Larry; for what one did, the other undid; and at last the lady's
anger kindled, and she spoke:

'Kenny! James Kenny! set the sea-cale at this corner, and put down the
grass cross-corners; and match your macaroni yonder with THEM puddens,
set—Ogh! James! the pyramid in the middle, can't ye?'

The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then it was that the
mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and lifting up her
hands and eyes in despair, ejaculated, 'Oh, James! James!'

The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military engineers, and
stood trembling again on its base; but the lady's temper could not be so
easily restored to its equilibrium.

The comedy of errors, which this day's visit exhibited, amused all
the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled, sometimes
sighed.—Similar foibles and follies in persons of different rank,
fortune, and manner, appear to common observers so unlike, that they
laugh without scruples of conscience in one case, at what in another
ought to touch themselves most nearly. It was the same desire to appear
what they were not, the same vain ambition to vie with superior rank and
fortune, or fashion, which actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mrs. Raffarty;
and whilst this ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the sport of some
of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the reflection that what she
was to them, his mother was to persons in a higher rank of fashion.—He
sighed still more deeply, when he considered, that, in whatever station
or with whatever fortune, extravagance, that is the living beyond our
income, must lead to distress and meanness, and end in shame and ruin.
In the morning, as they were riding away from Tusculum and talking over
their visit, the officers laughed heartily, and rallying Lord Colambre
upon his seriousness, accused him of having fallen in love with Mrs.
Raffarty, or with the ELEGANT Miss Juliana. Our hero, who wished never
to be nice overmuch, or serious out of season, laughed with those that
laughed, and endeavoured to catch the spirit of the jest. But Sir James
Brooke, who now was well acquainted with his countenance, and who knew
something of the history of his family, understood his real feelings,
and, sympathising in them, endeavoured to give the conversation a new
turn.

'Look there, Bowles,' said he, as they were just riding into the town
of Bray; 'look at the barouche, standing at that green door, at the
farthest end of the town. Is not that Lady Dashfort's barouche?'

'It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year,' said Bowles; 'but
you don't think she'd give us the same two seasons? Besides, she is not
in Ireland, is she? I did not hear of her intending to come over again.'

'I beg your pardon,' said another officer; 'she will come again to so
good a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear she said, or swore,
that she will marry the young widow, Lady Isabel, to an Irish nobleman.'

'Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears, she'll do,'
replied Bowles. 'Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart
upon you for Lady Isabel, she has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she
has none, so there you're safe, my lord,' said the other officer; 'but
if Lady Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer.'

'But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should have heard of it,
for she makes noise enough wherever she goes; especially in Dublin,
where all she said and did was echoed and magnified, till one could hear
of nothing else. I don't think she has landed.'

'I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!' cried Sir James
Brooke; 'one worthless woman, especially one worthless Englishwoman of
rank, does incalculable mischief in a country like this, which looks up
to the sister country for fashion. For my own part, as a warm friend
to Ireland, I would rather see all the toads and serpents, and venomous
reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in his bag, come back to this
island, than these two DASHERS. Why, they would bite half the women
and girls in the kingdom with the rage for mischief, before half the
husbands and fathers could turn their heads about. And, once bit,
there's no cure in nature or art.'

'No horses to this barouche!' cried Captain Bowles.—'Pray, sir, whose
carriage is this?' said the captain to a servant who was standing beside
it.

'My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to,' answered the servant, in rather
a surly English tone; and turning to a boy who was lounging at the
door—'Pat, bid them bring out the horses, for my ladies is in a hurry
to get home.'

Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths of his
horse, and to satisfy his curiosity; and the whole party halted. Captain
Bowles beckoned to the landlord of the inn, who was standing at his
door.

'So, Lady Dashfort is here again?—This is her barouche, is not it?'

'Yes, sir, she is—it is.'

'And has she sold her fine horses?'

'Oh no, sir—this is not her carriage at all—she is not here. That is,
she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on a visit.
And this is not her own carriage at all;—that is to say, not that which
she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast barouche like, as
she keeps for the lady's maids.'

'For the lady's maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do
you hear that?'

'Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!' said the honest
landlord. 'And this minute, we've got a directory of five of them
abigails, sitting within in our house; as fine ladies, as great dashers,
too, every bit as their principals; and kicking up as much dust on the
road, every grain!—Think of them, now! The likes of them, that must
have four horses, and would not stir a foot with one less!—As the
gentleman's gentleman there was telling and boasting to me about now,
when the barouche was ordered for them, there at the lady's house, where
Lady Dashfort is on a visit—they said they would not get in till they'd
get four horses; and their ladies backed them; and so the four horses
was got; and they just drove out here, to see the points of view for
fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with their glasses, like
their ladies; and then out with their watches, and "Isn't it time to
lunch?" So there they have been lunching within on what they brought
with them; for nothing in our house could they touch, of course! They
brought themselves a PICKNICK lunch, with Madeira and Champagne to wash
it down. Why, gentlemen, what do you think, but a set of them, as they
were bragging to me, turned out of a boarding-house at Cheltenham, last
year, because they had not peach-pies to their lunch!—But here they
come! shawls, and veils, and all!—streamers flying! But mum is my
cue!—Captain, are these girths to your fancy now?' said the landlord,
aloud; then, as he stooped to alter a buckle, he said, in a voice
meant to be heard only by Captain Bowles, 'If there's a tongue, male
or female, in the three kingdoms, it's in that foremost woman, Mrs.
Petito.'

'Mrs. Petito!' repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught his ear; and,
approaching the barouche in which the five abigails were now seated, he
saw the identical Mrs. Petito, who, when he left London, had been in his
mother's service.

She recognised his lordship with very gracious intimacy; and, before
he had time to ask any questions, she answered all she conceived he
was going to ask, and with a volubility which justified the landlord's
eulogium of her tongue.

'Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back—the day after
you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss Nugent was charmingly, and
would have sent their loves to your lordship, I'm sure, if they'd any
notion I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very sorry to
part with them; but the fact was, my lord,' said Mrs. Petito, laying
a detaining hand upon Lord Colambre's whip, one end of which he
unwittingly trusted within her reach,—'I and my lady had a little
difference, which the best friends, you know, sometimes have; so my Lady
Clonbrony was so condescending to give me up to my Lady Dashfort—and
I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship had it in
contemplation to cross the seas. But, to oblige my lady, and as Colonel
Heathcock, with his regiment of militia, was coming for purtection in
the packet at the same time, and we to have the government-yacht, I
waived my objections to Ireland. And, indeed, though I was greatly
frighted at first, having heard all we've heard, you know, my lord, from
Lady Clonbrony, of there being no living in Ireland, and expecting to
see no trees nor accommodation, nor anything but bogs all along; yet
I declare, I was very agreeably surprised; for, as far as I've seen at
Dublin and in the vicinity, the accommodations, and everything of that
nature, now is vastly put-up-able with!'—'My lord,' said Sir James
Brooke, 'we shall be late.' Lord Colambre, shortly withdrawing his whip
from Mrs. Petito, turned his horse away. She, stretching over the back
of the barouche as he rode off, bawled to him—

'My lord, we're at Stephen's Green, when we're at Dublin.' But as he did
not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its highest pitch, adding—

'And where are you, my lord, to be found!—as I have a parcel of Miss
Nugent's for you.'

Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.

'Cleverly done, faith!' said the major. 'I did not hear her say when
Lady Dashfort is to be in town,' said Captain Bowles.

'What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your guineas to Lady
Dashfort, and to be jockied out of another horse by Lady Isabel?'

'Oh! confound it—no! I'll keep out of the way of that—I have had
enough,' said Captain Bowles; 'it is my Lord Colambre's turn now; you
hear that Lady Dashfort would be very PROUD to see him. His lordship is
in for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Petito, Lady Dashfort has
him for Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart or hand.'

'My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged,' said Lord
Colambre; 'and my hand shall go with my heart, or not at all.'

'Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt,' said Sir
James Brooke. 'I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if you
can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don't trust
to your heart's being engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it
would be Lady Dashfort's sport, and Lady Isabel's joy, to make you break
your engagement, and break your mistress's heart; the fairer, the more
amiable, the more beloved, the greater the triumph, the greater the
delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out of the question;
neither mother nor daughter would care if you were hanged, or, as Lady
Dashfort would herself have expressed it, if you were d-d.'