LI B RAR.Y OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS ..I w r ^ . 1 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN The person charging this material is responsible for its renewal or return to the library on or before the due date. The minimum fee for a lost item is $1 25.00, $300.00 for bound journals. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. Please note: self-stick notes may result in torn pages and lift some inks. Renew via the Telephone Center at 217-333-8400, 846-262-1510 (toll-free) or circlib@uiuc.edu. Renew online by choosing the My Account option at: http://www.llbrary.uluc.edu/catalog/ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/schooloffashionn01thic ^/^/y^^J^/>^^^^^^ THE SCHOOL OF FASHION, A NOVEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1829. a>A^aRq i ( } LONDON: Printed by J. L. Cox, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's-Inn Fields. .M-.... -f - PREFACE. After the numerous and excellent productions that, within the last few years, have appeared under the name of Novels, by means of which the manners and customs of society, in past and present times, have been forcibly and faithfully pourtrayed, it is with no small degree of diffidence that the fol- lowing pages are offered to public no- tice. Among the works alluded to, great has been the proportion of those VI PREFACE. styled Fashionable Novels. These are ge- nerally supposed to contain a description of that select portion of society which can boast the ill-defined, yet strangely- powerful attribute of fashion. Still it so happens that the features of this select band are the least generally known, and have .been, -for the most part, the least accurately described. A reason for this may no doubt be found in the principle q{ exclusiveness on which it has been formed. The Author, however, has had ^gJbundant opportunities of becoming ac- quainted with the peculiarities of this portion of English society, whether in town or country, at home or abroad ; and, moreover, has not been a wholly PREFACE. VIL uninterested observer of that similarity of character and difference of manners, uniformity of object and dissimilarity of means, pertaining to all ; and which, to one who pleases himself with the study of human nature, cannot fail to be' a constant, a striking, and a useful lesson. It can, however, be most positively as- serted, that all personal allusions have been scrupulously avoided. Opinions, not people — classes, not individuals — have been attempted to be describ- ed. In the power of pleasing, or af- fording even a few hours' amusement by the perusal of this attempt, the Author feels no confidence. A faithful portrait may be an ill-executed picture. VIU PREFACE. Though the leading features may be true to nature, the composition and colour- ing, depending rather upon genius than experience, must in all cases affect, for the whole work, the prospect of success. It is, therefore, more with an anxious hope of approbation than an expectation of it, that The School of Fashion is offered to the notice of those who are disposed to try the strength of anonymous efforts. 1sIg!(X) hiir. i'^- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. CHAPTER I. It was in the middle of the month of May, and about four years after the close of the late French wars, which had deprived half our unmarried damsels of the chance of husbands, and rendered the remaining half so detestably English, as to be unfit for wives to heroes or travelled gentlemen, that the names of Mrs. and Miss Lovaine were seen amongst " the fashionable departures for the Continent." VOL. I. B S THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Perhaps our readers may be inclined to think that as the names of these ladies appeared un- accompanied by that of any gentleman, there Mas no Mr. Lovaine, and, therefore, to prevent the continuance of such a mistake, we beg leave to inform them, that Mr. Lovaine and an adopted nephew were both in existence, and both in good health ; the former at his seat, Beechwood Park, a very good estate, half way between Bath and London ; and the latter amusing himself to the utmost of his power in the great Babylon : nor did this tem- porary separation of the family proceed from any positive quarrel or habitual bickering be- tween the husband and wife, but from the sim- ple circumstance of two people being very absurd in very diiferent ways, Mr. Lovaine was a worthy^ excellent country gentleman, and, as such, had been an M.P., THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 3 who always voted for the highest duty on im- ported corn, conscientiously believing it was the only means of affording cheap bread to the poor. He persecuted poachers with almost more than the utmost rigour of the law, be- cause he considered poaching, if not quite the most dangerous crime ever heard of in this country, yet, to say the least, as leading to those that were. He would not have a single Catholic emancipated for all the value he placed on his eternal salvation, because he knew for certain, that if such an innovation were ever admitted, the Pope would very soon become Archbishop of Canterbury, and a general conflagration of all Protestants would be the natural conse- quence. He believed Napoleon to have been a coward, and by far the wickedest man (Crom- well excepted) who had existed since the days of King Herod. He looked upon alteration as b2 4 THE SCHOOL OF FASHFOIN'. innovation, and innovation as a ramification of revolution. He hated what was new be- cause it was so, and spoke with a respect ap- proaching to reverence of the good old times, when our ancestors had nothing to fear from the dangers of mitigated small-pox, as the effect of vaccination ; of explosion from steam or gas-pipes; or from too great velocity in travelling, owing to the smoothness of Macadamized roads. Let it not, however, be supposed, that he was illiberal or prejudiced ; he seldom missed an opportunity of declaring that he had no prejudices, though he hated the French (and he certainly believed all fo- reigners to be French) ; and though not illi- beral, he much feared that no true modesty — no real good wives or mothers — were to be found any where but in England ; and he heartily thanked his Maker every night, not THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 5 SO much for his creation and preservation, as for the blessing of having been born an Englishman.- ^t „ :.5 : v ?.. " ^l"; ^f J 1- - "'» Mrs. Lovaine was of a good family; but, from accidental circumstances, her coming out (as the emancipation of a young lady from the disabilities of childhood is termed), was per- formed at Bath, instead of in London. She had charmed her patriotic husband no less by her beauty, than by her high gown and long petticoats ; her habitual dread of, and implicit hehef in, all the dreadful and dangerous con- spiracies hatclied by a Citizen North and others in Pig's-foot and Pye -crust Lane {vide. Ttxxc- kleborough Hall), all of which were duly re- tailed to her by Mr. Lovaine; and, though last, not least, by her unfeigned admiration of his patriotism, fashion, and fortune. But times change, though men and women never 6 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. do ; it was the fashion at one time to dread all that was not English ; it became the fashion to detest all that was so; and if Mrs. LoTaine always followed the same leader^ how was she inconsistent ? Mr. Lovaine, however, was ob- stinate, and never could be brought to see this in its proper light; and though they loved each other quite as much, if not more than many other happy couples, it certainly afforded matter of frequent discussion between them, whether there was more or less consistency in always following the times, or going in oppo- sition to them if they changed. Mrs. Lovaine would, we have no doubt, have sacrificed much of her own amusement to promote that of hex husband ; but not to give Elinor every advan- tage, which she considered necessary to her succes in the beau mondey was impossible. She would have foregone pleasure, but her duty to her child was imperative. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 7 \j £_ : The kindest and the happiest pair Will have occasion to forbear, And something, every day tney live, f^fffpnrrxl Xo pity, and perhaps forgive.T r- r< t Kb t?.f>tf>h Elinor was just at that awkward age wherx mothers say, they know not what to do witli their daughters — that is, when they are old enough to be rational companions; provided their former education has not narrowed, in- stead of enlarged their understanding. Miss Lovaine was sixteen years old, tall, and not inelegantly formed. She was possessed of a good capacity, a kind heart, and even, though not high spirits; her manners were pleasing, rather from the absence of all affectation, than from the presence of any particular charm; her complexion was fresh and fair ; her fea- tures tolerably good ; she was, to all who knew her, a pretty girl; but by strangers she was passed by unnoticed. Though she knew diat c9vijBi9qfni aew blirfa i^n 8 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. her parents did not always agree, she concluded that they were both right in different ways ; as Papa must know best about the nation, and Mamma about education and the fashions. She had managed to make them both unite in loving her; for she was dutiful, affectionate, and gentle. She wept with heartfelt sorrow when she bade adieu to her father, and her home; but she never for a moment doubted the wisdom of her mother's plan of finishing her education abroad. Their first point of interest was the field of Waterloo, to which they were escorted by some acquaintance, whom they met at Brus- sels. How differently does the sight of this spot operate upon different people. Had Mr. Lovaine been there, he would have had no feelings but those of exultation at the downfall of an usurper, ^nd at the bravery which had THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. » been exhibited by Englishmen; but Mrs. Lovaine, who was always deeply touched with the misfortunes of men of fashion, and who was, by some accident, generally most over- come when other people were present, shed tears to the memory of many a fallen hero, and for the loss of many a titled leg and arm. Elinor was interested in hearing details of the battle, but she was of a less sensitive nature than her mother; and as they had lost no friend or relation during the whole of the war, concluded; that she was not well, and was so wholly without tact as to ask if the sun op- pressed her. Mrs. Lovaine replied in the negative, and remarked directly in a tremu- lous voice to her neighbour, that Waterloo was indeed an affecting sight; by which she ingeniously prevented the danger of others being equally ignorant of the cause of h^r b5 10 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. agitation, as was the unsuspecting and artless Elinor. t jfirij. As Mrs. Lovaine had felt it to be her duty to go abroad for the benefit of her daughter's education, she wisely determined never to lose a moment in promoting that object; and by the time they had spent a day or two in Brussels, Miss Lovaine was furnished with masters for every accomplishment deemed necessary by her mother, to ensure her succes in the world. After three weeks had been spent in the cultivation of several very de- lightful talents, which nature had unluckily forgotten to bestow upon poor Elinor, they proceeded on their travels, by the Rhine into Switzerland, and from thence to Florence* Such an opportunity for the cultivation of the fine arts in general, as a sejour in Italy, and of music in particular, as being in the same THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 11 town with Manielli, was not to be neglected ; but it was in vain that Elinor heai*d and repeated over and over again th^ same air — she lent an attentive, but not a musical ear to her master's instructions. Anxiously did she wish to please her mother, and all her pastors and masters — ^but as she never could hum a tune, or even recognize one which she had been in the habit of hearing twice a day, it was not her fault that she could not detect the difference between singing in or otd of time and tune— her voice had power, but not to please — her tongue to read, but not to pronounce Ita- lian — and her ears to hear, but not to be dis- tressed at the eri'ors which she involuntarily committed. Mrs. Lovaine knew that all good judges approved of Manielli's manner, and that most people of fashion learned to sing; the idea, therefore, of natural incapacity ope- IS THE SCHOOL OF FASHIO:^'. rating against her daughter's improvement never crossed her mind. During their tour on the Rhine, Elinor had been recommended tai sketch ruins, old buildings, and mountains; d but she at last successfully pleaded as an ex- cuse for declining to libel the beauties of na». : ture, the shortness of the time she had learnt ia? draw, and gratified her mother by the promise ^ that she would take great pains at Florence. A whole week therefore, according to her pro- mise, she worked most dihgently, and had nearly succeeded in unlearning all she had previously learnt at Brussels, when Mrs. Lo- ;j vaine determined upon changing her master, :j> It so happened that the Misses Nimblefinger, with whose aunt Mrs. Lo vaine had formerly been acquainted at Bath, were also come . abroad to be topped up, and learn taste, and had produced some fine sketches of the human THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOS^* 13 figure. The said sketches were talked of at a very fashionable house, and much praised in her presence ; not a moment, therefore, was to be lost, and Elinor, with perfect docility, devoted her time to drawling men and women, too defiM'med for even Mr. Cheshire to make straight, instead of continuing to draw houses too infirm for any number of props to preserve from falling. Luckily for herself, Mrs. Lovaine, being no judge of the fine arts, was quite igno- rant of her daughter's failures; she was per- fectly satisfied that she had every advantage that could be derived from her being abroad, and was herself very much occupied in making fashionable new — and cutting dowdy old — friends (for both were to be found at Florence), in order to give Elinor the full advantage of the very best society, ^qu l>dq^03 t^J 14 THE SCHOOL OP FASHION. flB tHdvufinuU mid bdsifi^di noateq o/fj n3'>d bed ?b r» pysb i&fC 90ni8 rijBcl Jit :^4n^'f tin 7.! ^v\o^>A»w Jeom CHAPTER II. ^OniT fins* M**ff ^ 7^«H''t '**^p?T*«>fr» Fashion is like the sun, it first dazzles by its splendour and then blinds the object who gazes on it too intently. Such was the fate of Mrs. Lovaine, whose judgment was indeed most woefully blinded by that dangerous me- teor. Whilst promenading one day in the celebrated Florentine gallery, and directing Elinor to admire those beauties in the works of different artists, which were most noted in the journals of many previous foreign travel- lers, (but to which, in fact, both she and her daughter were equally insensible,) she was accosted by a gentleman to whose appearance she was no stranger. She almost instantly THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 15 recognized him as Lord Dunhaven, an Irish Earl of immense fortune, and who, in the days of her girlhood, had been the pei'son most recherche by all ranks at Bath. Since her marriage they had not met, nor had she for some years even heard of his Lordship. Per- ceiving that he was accompanied by a lady, whose beauty time was only beginning to mark with his iron hand, and whose tall fiorure and elegant dress could not fail to attract attention, she cast an inquiring look at his Lordship ; who, taking the hint, soon alluded to Lady Dunhaven in such a manner as left no doubt upon Mrs. Lovaine's mind, that the lady in question was his wife ; and consequently, with- out further hesitation, she requested to be pre- sented to the Countess. ;itiiup9 9"!'^ HI* To one less devoted to fashion than was Mrs. Lovaincj there was that in Lady Dun-- 16 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. haven's manner which might have excited sur- prise. Her countenance at first sight appeared confident, ahnost bold ; but when introduced to Mrs. Lovaine, her colour heightened, and there was an embarrassment in her address which ill accorded with the rest of her appear- ance. ■ " Has your Ladyship been long in this de- lightful city ?" inquired Mrs. Lovaine. V " Only a few days." ; " It is indeed a treat to the lovers of the fine arts, to "be thus surrounded by the finest productions in painting and sculp- ture." i^es?od^!fi . 5* What a charming woman is Lady Dun- haven !" said Mrs. Lovaine to her daughter, when they reached home. ., ., ..^ " I saw so little of her, Mamma, that I can hardly judge; but I did not think her mannei;? so very pleasing." , , ,_. ^ . " You are indeed almost too young to judge, my love." Elinor concluded she was, and the conver- sation dropped. The following morning Elinor was ordered to make herself scnart, that she might accom- pany her mother to the Countess Dunhaven's. They found her seated on a sofa — very expen- sively attired, and the whole room bore the marks of luxury and splendour. Her manner appeared far less constrained than it had done THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 19 on the preceding day, and she seemed much disposed to improve her acquaintance both with mother and daughter. Still, to Elinor's mind, there was something unsatisfactory in her way of answering the various questions with which Mrs. Lovaine assailed her. A pretty little child of about six years old was playing in the room, and, like all other pretty children, furnished a topic of conversation. " This sweet little girl is almost too young to derive much benefit from her travels," ob- served Mrs. Lovaine. " Your Ladyship's eldest, I presume.'*' ^^^^^^ ^*-^' " She is our only juvenile companion," was the reply, and in a tone that conveyed no wish to continue the subject. The various lions of the town were next discussed ; and Lady Dun- haven having arrived so recently at Florence, Mrs. Lovaine proposed escorting her in her 20 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. morning's walk to see what was best worth seeing. '^t To this proposal Lord and Lady Dunhaven instantly agreed, and at the close of the day Mrs. Lovaine again exclaimed, and with in- creased warmth, " What a charming woman is Lady Dunhaven." Elinor was not wanting in good sense or discernment; but from her placid and diffident disposition, she was so little in the habit' of diffenng with any one, and so persuaded that she was more likely to be mistaken than her mother, that though she did not agree with her in opinion, she did not contradict her. — Indeed, she scarcely knew why she did not like Lady Dunhaven — but she felt as many young people do, and as all must feel, who are not accustomed to analyse their own cha- racters and motives, as well as those of other THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 21 people, that distastes would arise unaccompa- nied by any distinct conception of the reasons for them. ^ i^^^-'^jj, k^ There had been a cold embarrassment in her premier abord which Elinor had deemed proud and repulsive ; for her whole appearance con- tradicted the idea of shyness being even the possible cause of her ungracious manner — and there was an inconsistency in the desire, which she afterwards evinced, upon their second and third meetings, to become extremely intimate ; — this created in. Elinor a distaste for her so- ciety, which she could not disguise from her- Mrs. Lovaine, on the contrar}^, was more and more delighted with her new friend ; — and indeed. Lady Dunhaven was far from wanting the power to make herself pleasant ; she was lively in conversation — admired Elinor— 22 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. thought that all things fashionable might be learnt better in Italy than in England : — in short, their friendship became daily more cemented, by the discovery of fresh points of agreement. " I wonder why Lady Dimhaven never goes out in an evening," remarked Elinor one night, as she returned from a little soiree with her mother. — " She has been here so short a time, my love, that it is hardly probable she should have made many acquaintance as yet ; and pos- sibly she might wish to recover the fatigues of her journey, before she encountered that of visiting." This simple observation of Elinor's, how- ever, suggested to Mrs. Lovaine, that it would not be at all an unpleasant office, for her to un- dertake the introduction of the wife of this very old friend into society. The next queiy THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOIC. ^ was, how to realize her kind intention. — Elinor was quite old enough for the continen- tal, though too young for the London world ; — they had a very good sized room — Elinor danc- ed very tolerably well — it would be an advan- tage to her to know dancing men ; and as she had come abroad solely for her daughter's ad- vantage, it was her duty never to neglect that object — ergo — she ought to give a ball. — She determined to do so, and cards were immedi- ately issued. For a whole week, Elinor's education suf- fered considerable interruption from the visits of mantua-makers — stay-makers — shoe-makers — ^flower-makers, &c. &c., all of whom were to do their very best for her advantage. Whilst Mrs. Lovaine was unceasing in her exertions for the good arrangement of the rooms — re- moving chairs, sofas, and tables — ordering 24 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. supper — answering notes — and doing all the innumerable things necessary to the future enjoyment of four or five hours. At length the day arrived. Mrs. Lovaine had been diligent in making both her house and her daughter look to the best advantage ; and Elinor, though neither conceited, or of a very excitable disposition, did feel all that hap- piness, which we believe is always felt by a very young girl the first time she puts on a ball gown, to appear as a grown person. Her dress was in good taste — her coiffure good — and she looked pleasing, fresh, and young: three grand points towards beauty. Mrs. Lo- vaine looked her over from head to foot, and as she was quite sure that her coiffure was the right one, she, for once, did not alter the ar- rangement of her curls a dozen times. — She always loved Elinor, but she never loved her THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 25 better than at this moment, for she never felt so confident that she would be admired ; and, in fact, there was an animation in her counte- nance, which was as unusual, as it was be- coming. Cynics would fain teach us never to hope — and prudent, well-intentioned advisers, would try to undermine this our main support in life, by hinting, that hope is but the parent of dis- appointment. We, however, think that hope and happiness are also very nearly allied : ami altliough the former may tell " a flattering tale,' it is one to which it is so agreeable to listen, that we much doubt whether, if a regular deb- tor and creditor account could be made out, the balance would not rather be found in fa- vpur of the number of hours spent in agi'eeable hope, than in those of painful disappointment. — We, therefore, advise all young people to yoL. I. C JB6 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. indulge in the dreams of hope as long as they can ; and should they awake to disappointment in this world, let them remember with pious hope, that " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." But such advice to Mrs. and Miss Lovaine, when the lamps were lighting, was quite need- less — the former lonofed to see her daughter admired — and what mother who loves her child does not wish that she should be appreciated by others? — She also felt herself of unusual im- portancC) and there was something of triumph in the feeling — she was the giver of an enter- tainment to which many wished to come ; and above all, she was to be the means of introduc- ing into society an unknown, rich, and hand- some Countess, who, she felt persuaded, had but to be known, to be admired and courted. Elinor's breast was filled with hope; but her THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 2T feelings were far less defined and less easy to be analysed. She anticipated pleasure, because she had seldom met with pain : her mother's manner towards her was peculiarly affection- ate. She had no cares to pre-occupy her — no plan to execute ; she was sure she should be amused, and her curiosity w^as awakened to know in what way. The compan}' began to assemble ; but ere the room was crowded, the Countess Dunha- ven was announced. Her height — lier fine, though harsh features, together with her splendid jewels and dress, gave her what is vulgarly called such a dashing appearance, that she could not fail to excite attention through- out the room. The Marquise de la Bruyere was sitting by Mrs. Lovaine when she entered. The Marquise was of a noble French family, and from her long residence at Florence and c2 28 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. from her cultivation of literary society, was much looked up to both by natives and fo- reigners, and her house became the great re- sort of talent and fashion. With many amia- ble qualities, which endeared her to her friends and acquaintance, there was in her a propensi- ty to imagine affronts, where none had been intended ; and a hastiness in shewing her dis- pleasure, that often hurried her into acts of injustice, which were not so easily forgiven by others, as they were acknowledged by herself. — Mrs. Lovaine, knowing that marked atten- tion was agreeable to Madame de la Bruyere, made a point of introducing Lady Dunhaven to her before she conferred that honour upon any other acquaintance. The Marquise was prevenajite — the Countess all smiles — Elinor was engaged for every dance — Mrs. Lovaine was all joy and triumph. As THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 29 soon as Madame de la Bruyere quitted the ball, Mrs. Lovaine promenaded tbe rooms arm-in-arm with Lady Dunhaven, and pre- sented the wife of her old friend to all from whom she had received civility during her sejour at Florence, and revenged many a little wrong by withholding that advantage from others. It was a night of bliss to Mrs. Lovaine : and so fully satisfied did she feel of her own fashion and consequence, that she determined upon erasing from her visiting-book, the following day, at least thirt}' acquaintance, who had nothing but good character to recommend them. Balls, however, like all other earthly plea- sures, must end ; and so, at a late hour, Mrs, Lovaine^s banquet-hall was deserted ; "its 30 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. lights were fled, its garlands dead, and all but she departed." To Elinor it had been a scene of innocent amusement: she had given pleasure by her simplicity and good-nature, and she had been pleased in return by the notice bestowed upon her. But gratified vanity or satisfied ambition had formed no part of her enjoyment ; she was amused ; but having been unable previously to form any idea from what source she wished to derive her amusement, it was not the success of a design that had delighted her ; and at the end, though she was fully sensible of the effect, she was unconscious of the precise cause. In- cessant dancing on her part, and equally in- cessant smiling, and being agreeable, on the part of her mother, soon reconciled both to the idea of repose, and soon were they " bound in THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 31 slumbei-'s chains," alike unconscious of past pleasure or coming woe. It was late the following morning when Mrs. Lovaine and her daughter, with pale faces and slight head-aches, came down to breakfast : both were fatigued, and unable to settle to any employment; Mrs. Lovaine therefore desired Elinor to accompany her to Lady Dunhaven's, for the purpose of inquiring how her ladyship felt, after the f^e of the preceding night. Lady Dunhaven was at home; had slept well — overwhelmed Mrs. Lovaine with compli- ments upon the success of her ball — the good looks of Elinor, &c. In short, never had she been so agreeable, and never did Mrs. Lovaine feel so sure of her friendship and regard. Upon her return home, she found her table covered with cards and notes ; she perused all she saw, and was leaving the room, when 32 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Elinor said, " Here is another letter, Mamma, til at has fallen on the floor." Mrs. Lovaine opened and read it with an eagerness which sui-prised her daughter; but her surprise was quickly succeeded by alarm when she perceived that her mother was as pale as ashes. The contents were as follow : " If yom' conduct, "last night, proceeded " from ignorance, this note will surprise you. " If, on the contrary, it arose from a disregard " to your own reputation, and still more to that " of your interesting and engaging daughter, '•' the writer hopes it may at least produce *' some feelings of shame. " The notorious and infamous Countess " Dunhaven, upon whose arm you were fondly " leaning, and by the introduction of whom " you insulted your friends and acquaintance, " is Lord Henry Fitz-Allan's divorced wife, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 33 " a woman whose depraved conduct, intriguing " spirit, and violent temper, rendered her so " obnoxious even to her own relations, that, " unpitied and unnoticed, she left Ireland with " her last dupe (and, strange to say, hus- '•' band!), to seek abroad an asylum from the " virtuous indignation which her character " universally excited at home. Your notice of '' her, not to say your apparent intimacy, has " been the general topic of conversation and " animadversion this morning." Confused and astounded, Mrs. Lovaine was undecided what step to take; she sometimes doubted the truth of this anonymous informa- tion, and felt disposed to treat it as the effect of jealousy on the part of some one who envied her friendship with the Countess. Again and again she perused the note, but at last thought c 5 34 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. it too circumstantial to be entirely false ; trasC- ing, however, that it was much exaggerated, and anxious to have it contradicted, she deter- mined upon writing to Lord Dunhaven as folio v/s : — *' Dear Lrord Dunhaven, " The embarrassing situation in which ** I find myself placed by the receipt of an *^ a,nonymous letter, must plead my excuse for ^' the step I am about to take, in waiting upon " a subject which delicacy tells me ought not "to be mentioned to you. Were it possible ** to avoid doing so I would, but duty to my " dear girl allows me no choice. " I have been informed that your amiable " wife, from circumstances connected with a " former marriage, was not received or visited *• in her own country, and that her principal THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 35 " object in travelling was to make fresh ac- " quaintance, where those circumstances were ** unknown. " *!; i " I can hardly persuade myself, had this " really been the case, that you, my dear Lord, *' would have taken advantage of our former " friendship, to promote an intimacy which *' must, under such circumstances, be equally " displeasing to my husband, and disadvan- " tageous to my daughter. Should my iii- " formant, however, be correct, I need hardly " say that I must feel it my duty (though " with great regret) to withdraw myself from *• the society of Lady Dunhaven. Should it *• turn out on the contrary, (as I sincerely *' trust it may,)^ that my information is erro- *' neous, and that it is merely one of thase un- '• founded caluuuiies which have their origin 36 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " in envy and malice, I trust you will not " communicate the contents of this letter to " Lady Dunhaven, for whom I feel the greatest '' regard and interest, not to add that I should, " indeed, in any case, be truly grieved unneces- ^' sarily to wound the pride of conscious virtue. " The responsibility and anxiety of a mother " will not, however, allow me entirely to dis- *' regard the intelligence I have received. - " Believe me, my dear Lord Dunhaven, " Yours very sincerely, " Louisa Lovaine." Scarcely had the agitation subsided, into which the receipt of this anonymous letter, and the writing and sending the above, liad thrown Mrs. Lovaine, when a servant entered and ffave her a note. Nervousness iiad made THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 3*7 her so strangely miscalculate time and distance, that she was persuaded it was the answer from Lord Dunhaven, and had not courage to open it immediately, or till she caught a glimpse of the hand-writing of Madame de la Bruyere, when, so great was her delight at the reprieve, that she unfolded it with an eagerness, which, under any other circumstances, would have denoted an expectation of intelligence of the most pleasing or important nature. It was as follows : " C'est en vain, Madame, que je m'epuise " en conjectures sur ce qui a pu vous porter a *' m'offrir Taffront que j'ai essuye hier au soir " chez vous. La difficulte que j'eprouve a " m'en assigner la cause, est augmentee par la " conviction de n'avoir point agi envers vous " de fa9on a m'attirer de votre part une inci- 3S THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " vilite, encore bien moins un affront aussi cho- " quant a la pudeur qu'a Phospitalite. " J'ai ni le droit ni le desir de me meler de " rinclination qui vous porte a outrager les " bienseances et a vous lier d'amitie avec une " femme qui ne s'est distinguee que par sa " mauvaise conduite. Mais permettez moi de " vous dire, Madame, qu'aux autres vous " n'avez pas le droit d'en imposer la con- " naissance. " Vous croyez, peut-etre, que la modestie et *' la bonne conduite ne sont connues qu'en " Angleterre, et que tout vous est permis envers " celles qui n'ont pas I'honneur d'etre de vos " compatriotes. Mais vous vous trorapez Ma- " dame ! et je m^empresse de vous faire savoir, " non seulement de ma part, mais de la part " de toute la societe rassemblee hier au soir " chez vous, que les personnes, quoiqu'An- THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOX. 39 " gloises, qui se sont rendues indignes de la " bonne societe chez elles, en seront egalement " rejetees chez nous. " Marouise de la Bruyere." What a situation for Mrs. Lovaine ! a few short hours before she had felt herself a sort of Queen ! she now knew that she was only mentioned to be blamed, and that slie was excluded from the house most recherche in Florence ! Whilst ruminating over these very unpleas- ing reflections, Elinor, who had for some time left the room, returned, and inquired with eager and tender solicitude what had so much disturbed her mother. No explanation, how- ever, was given. Mrs. Lovaine was anxious to receive Lord Dunhaven's reply before she im- parted her distresses to her child. Two hours 40 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. had elapsed since the letter had been sent, and each time the door had opened during that in^ terval, she fancied that either Lord Dunhaven himself or his answer would enter. At last arrived the wished-for, yet dreaded, letter ; not written by his Lordship, but by Lady Dun- haven. She had been present when her hus- band received Mrs. Lovaine's note, and, as was her usual custom, insisted upon reading it; and, in this instance also, (her countenance alternately white and crimson from anger,) she insisted upon replying to it herself. Lord Dunhaven offered some slight remonstrance to such a step, but he was too indolent to resist her strongly, and was too much accustomed to yield to her violence to oppose her wishes long ; the result was that poor Mrs. Lovaine was condemned to read the following epistle : — "If by the 'circumstances connected with THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 41 •' a former marriage/ Mrs. Lovaine alludes " to the legal divorce which six years ago re- " lieved Lady Dunhaven from the cruel op- " pression of Lord Henry Fitz-Allan, she is " rightly informed. LadyDunhaven had hoped, " by leaving a country where she was per- " secuted by unjust prejudices and despicable *' illiberality, to have escaped from the imper- f' tinence of those whose only pretended supe- " riority was having respected those prejudi- " ces, and whose only merit was in untried " virtue. " To what Mrs. Lovaine alludes when she " speaks of Lord Dunhaven ' taking an un- " fair advantage of their former friendship,' " they are both at a loss to understand, as " the acquaintance of Mrs. Lovaine was " forced upon Lady Dunhaven by herself. ." Conceiving it more than probable that the 4S THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " love of rank, and ignorance of her misfor- " tunes, might have caused this introduction, " Lady Dunhaven shrunk, at first, from the " unsolicited attentions of Mrs. Lovaine ; but " when she found them not only repeated " but increased, she accepted and returned " them, under the false idea, that she had at " last found a woman who was above being " the slave of opinion and the devotee of fa- " shion. " Lady Dunhaven feels obliged to Mrs. " Lovaine for having undeceived her on this " point, and begs to assure her, that future in- " tercourse will neither be sought nor desired." Thus were the worst fears of Mrs. Lovaine confirmed ! It was evident that the informa- tion contained in the anonymous letter was well-founded, and she had the additional mor- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 43 tification of feeling that there was indisputable truth in the insolent, or as she considered them, ungrateful taunts of Lady Dunhaven : worried and vexed by these consideration, she passed a sleepless night, revolving in her mind what steps to take. The following morning she informed Eli- nor of all that had passed, and of her resolu- tion to quit Florence in the course of the week. She wrote an apologetical letter to Madame de la Bruyere, shut her doors to all visitors, dismissed Elinor's masters, and occu- pied ^herself wholly in preparations for her departure. 44 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. CHAPTER III. Mrs. Lovaine and her daughter proceeded straight from ' Florence to Rome, where in a short time Ehnor was attended by a fresh set of masters ; and being those v/ho were the best recommended in Rome, her mother felt no annoyance at having prevented, by her sudden departure from Florence, all possible hope of improvement there. Having now comfortably established our roaming friends in the eternal city, we must request our readers to journey back to Eng- land, in search of the home-staying Mr. Lo- vaine and his nephew. Although Mr. Lovaine disapproved too THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 45 much of foreign travel to accompany the female part of his family, he was as uncom- fortable without his wife and daughter, and regretted their departure as sincerely, as if they had been obliged to go abroad, or he had been under the necessity of remaining at home ; his nephew, however, to whom (not- withstanding their frequent differences of opinion) he was much attached, joined him in less than a month at Beechwood Park. This nephew, Herbert Lovaine, was the only son of a younger brother of Mr. Lo- vaine's ; his father had married a most ami- able lady, of great rank, but small fortune : who died in giving birth to their first child. Her husband survived her only four or five yeai's, and the boy was left to the sole guar- dianship of his uncle : who, having no child but Elinor, and considering it of great im- 46 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. portance that property should descend to heirs male, declared him, in case of his having no son, the successor to his property. It is difficult to describe the character of Herbert Lovaine : — at nineteen he was a wild boy, of high animal spirits, of a generous and open disposition, with excellent natural abili- ties, but ignorant of all that books can tell or science teach ; he was naturally shrewd, but there was a want of cultivation in his mind, which prevented his either seeking, or being sought, by those who were capable of inspiring him with a more noble ambition than that of being foremost in the chase, or readiest with his gun. At twenty-one he left college, and entered into the dissipation and amusements of Lon- don, with a zest which was far from unna- tural in one who, by his liveliness and good- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 47 nature, had but to be known to please. He had never troubled his head about politics, for his principal instructor upon that subject had been his uncle; and though he had neither thought nor studied sufficiently to detect the fallacies of Mr. Lovaine's opinions, yet there was in them much to disgust, and nothing to attract, a person of his disposition. Thoujjh Herbert's faculties had lain dor- mant for a time, they required but one spark from the Promethean torch to be on fire, and it was in the year of his aunt's departure for the Continent, that that spark fell. He acci- dentally became acquainted, in the early part of the spring, with a gentleman of the name of Benson, by profession a lawyer, and about five years older than himself; his birth was re- spectable, not noble ; his time was devoted to the improvement of his mind : he was a radical 18 THE SCIIOOl> OF FASHION. reformer of all abuses, a student of political eco- nomy, a decrier of the aristocracy, the cham- pion of the oppressed, and the believer in the wrongs of every poor, and the crimes of every rich man ; there was an earnestness in his manner, when discussing his favourite topics, and a store of information, that at once de- lighted and surprised his ignorant friend. " Birds of a feather flock together," says the proverb; and it must not be supposed that Mr. Benson was a solitary being, either in his opinions or his habits; he was one of a set, who associated frequently, for the purpose of confirming one another in the belief of their own exclusive power of thinking right, or rea- soning well, and the unquestionable error of all who presumed to differ fj'om them. Tile persons most intimate witli Mr. Benson were Mr. Claypole, Mr. Ratsbane, and Mr. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 49 Prateall. Often and often did this select few con over the narrow-minded policy of the Tories and the insincerity of the Whigs. With un- ceasing and innocent perseverance did they speak, one after another, at every debating society, upon the particular necessity of de- capitating Charles the First, and the general expediency of regicide, — the advantages of all rebellions and revolutions, from that of Korah in the Desert, to that of France in the eighteenth centuiy — the undoubted superiori- ty of the republican overall other forms of go- vernment — the power of America — the insig- nificance of England — the monopoly of the higher, and the oppression of the lower orders in this country, consequent on the law of pri- mogeniture, &c. &c. From the beginning of Mr. Benson's ac- quaintance with Herbert, he perceived the sod VOL. I. D 50 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION; on which he had to work, and left no stone un- turned to sow the seeds of ambition, and to implant the desire of knowledge ; convinced that he would be amply repaid in the harvest of such a proselyte, for all his time and trouble. In time our hero (for such we must call him) was introduced to Mr. Benson^s companions. The love of novelty may be said to be an inhe- rent quality of youth ; and certainly the opini- ons which he heard advanced in that society, and advanced with a degree of positiveness that bade defiance to opposition, possessed that charm in a prominent degree. There was indeed much to delight a youth of young Lovaine's disposition, in the principles and language which he now heard for the first time — there was such a semblance of inde- pendence, justice, and patriotism, that his imagination was captivated, while his judg- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 51 ment was unassisted by -either learning or ex- perience. Though Mr. Benson and his companions had, so far as was consistent with the extreme libe- rality of their feelings, a decided dislike to every member of the aristocracy, yet Her- bert's near relationship to many of the titled scourges of the country, did not operate against him in this society — for they considered them- selves to be a set of men professedly ajbove pre- judice; and it was highly gratifying to the va- nity of one, who, it must be confessed, had taken no further trouble to improve himself, than that of teaching his tongue to repeat what he caught by ear, to find himself at once consi- dered " a rising young man." In time, however, his friends became alarm- ed lest his newly acquired notions, if quite un- supported by knowledge, should not do them, d2 ^2 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. or himself, justice in other societies; — there was also a lingering love of his former habits in Herbert, which alarmed them, and from which, as they wished to be of service to him, and to advance the cause of truth and freedom, they earnestly desired to wean him. " Upon what principle did you go to Al- mack's last night ?" inquired Benson one day, as he was walking arm in arm with his disciple. " Simply upon that of amusing mj^self," re- plied Herbert Lovaine, somewhat surprised at the solemnity of the tone and manner in which the question was addressed to him. " And what amusement did you derive ?" *^ntinued his companion. Herbert was a little puzzled what to say in answer : he felt that he was more likely to gain instruction than sympathy from Mr. Benson, and therefore did not chuse to select him as a THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 53 confidant on a subject, which Be suspected might be considered as a weakness, or, to say the least, as a foolish interruption to useful pursuits. After some hesitation, he rejoined : " Why surely man is a social being, and the pleasures of conversation are, 1 believe, universally ad- mitted." " Might I ask, what furnished the principal subject of discussion last night ?" Poor Herbert was again perplexed : he knew that Benson would think the merits of Lord Charles Harley's marriage with the rich Miss Somers a very contemptible topic ; and yet, unluckily, it had been the general one the pre- ceduig evening. The particular topic on which he had himself discoursed, he was siill less disposed to impart — he was therefore in- 5* THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. clined to shirk the question by merely say- ing: " Oh ! you know, my dear fellow, that at those sort of places nothing is talked of worth repeating." " Surely, then, it must be a loss of time to frequent them ! Is there any pleasure in the rapid movement of feet to the sound of music?" " Why, certainly, the pleasure of dancing depends principally on the charms of your partner," replied Herbert; recollecting at that moment how entirely his own pleasure in that exercise (or rather in that lounging walk, which now-a-days is usually the proxy for dancing) had been derived from that source. " There is an incorrectness in your mode of expressing yourself. Pleasure from the society of your partner could only be derived when THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 55 you were not dancing; and certainly till the education of women is formed upon a totally different system to the present, no man of your abilities can find much amusement, far less instruction, from their conversation. I have been informed, that the principal occupation of the people, for the support of whose conse- quence this country is drained to the very dregs, is exchanging flowers, holding fans, handing ices, and calling carriages. Now, as I do not suspect you of devoting your time to such employments, I should imagine it must be in compliance with some early prejudice that you are guilty of this moral prostitution." Herbert felt painfully guilty: he certainly had spent a considerable time amongst the link- boys and constables of King-street, St. James'sj in order to find a lady's carriage the preceding evening: and, moreover, he had not only 56 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. given but received a rose, which he now almost wished he had not taken the trouble to put in water. He again, therefore, tried rather to evade the subject than to justify his pursuits; and soon succeeded in pacifying his Mentor by turning the conversation to one upon which he thought he was more likely to please him*q " I suppose, Benson, you intend to go to the debating society to-morrow?" " Certainly," returned Benson, "as it is very much expected th^at you will make your first speech there. I have myself spoken too often already on that subject to render it necessary to repeat my opinions." iioiHaano^jft Lovaine did not deny his intention of ad- dressing the expectant society, nor did he the following evening disappoint them. The sub- ject was far fi'om modern ; but Herbert had been able to get it up with less difficulty and THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 5*7 research than many others might have occa* sioned him. hi -i^m^-^^l J'^ft 5)rii' ' h-r^"t7^ The question was, " Whether Queen Ehza- beth was or was not justified in beheading Mary Queen of Scots?" Whether departed spirits are permitted the knowledge of what passes in this sublunary world, has afforded matter of speculation to many a philosopher ; nor do we pretend to offer our opinion upon so abstruse a question; but should they pos- sess that power, we must own it gives us in- finite pleasure to think of the satisfaction with which the headless Mary must have heard the expression of the decided conviction of so many rising young men, that her execution was cruel and unnecessary. Herbert did not, like most young speakers, tell his auditors what they already knew — that he was unaccustomed to public speaking ; but d5 58 THE SCHOOL OF MSHION^* he apologised for occupying their time by intruding himself on their notice, with a mo- desty as unusual, we suspect, in his listeners, as it was sincere in himself He displayed all the good effects of a recent cram in his know- ledge of facts and dates ; nor was his language sufficiently free from eloquence not to alarm the society, lest one of their members might meditate the use of that dangerous and repre- hensible weapoiii He compared the character of the unfortunate Mary to a river, which, though gentle, puif'e, and brilliant in its source, is, when expanded to grandeur, tainted and contaEminated by the works of tnen ; and whose waters, when no longer serviceable, are so divided and dammed up, that it finally falls over a precipice, an insignificant and tributary stream to some more powerful son of Kep- tune* THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 39 As no reporters are admitted to these meetings, so disrespectfully called " Spouting Clubs," we cannot answer for having done justice to the beauty of Mr. Lovaine's me- taphor, and we are unable to give any further quotations from his speech ; but there is every reason to believe tliat he displayed sufficient ability and fluency to have done him credit in any assembly, at least when considered as an earnest of better things. Mr. Benson and his friends cheered him warmly, for they felt the necessity of giving encouragement to their protege; and as those gentlemen were great authorities in the society, he was sufficiently applauded to gratify his vanity and stimulate his industry. His auditors, however, were not so entirely satisfied with his oration as their applause indicated, though they were candid enough to 60 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOIf. make great allowances for the disadvantages of his birth and early habits; and they hoped that time and example would correct the failings consequent on those disadvantages. Prateall whispered to Claypole that it was a vicious style of speaking : the latter agreed in this opinion ; and they determined on re- questing Benson to point out to Lovaine the horrors of a metaphor, and the want of prin- ciple in appealing more to the feelings than to the reason of his listeners. Accordingly, the next day, after compli- menting Herbert on some parts of his speech, he animadverted most strongly upon the slight- est indulgence in the flowers of rhetoric, and assured him that nothing could be more aojainst the interest of whatever cause he espoused than attempting to persuade by elo- quence; for that as reaso7i was the only fort THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 61 worth attacking or overcoming, it was mere folly to use an engine which had only power to assail the imagination. Had Herbert been less awed by his friend, he mio:ht have hinted that he also could be a little figurative: and indeed we have been sometimes rather surprised at hearing this method of imparting our feelings, opi- nions, thoughts, and actions, so decried, inas- much as the only means we have of imparting our ideas to one another, is by their com- parison to external objects. To the mind of Lovaine, however, this plain fact did not occur at the moment: he was annoyed by the criticisms to which he was forced to listen ; he dreaded ridicule ; and he began to fear that what he had thought sub- lime while composing his speech, had per- haps moved that one unfortunate step further, 62 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. which so changes its nature, when he gave it utterance. His spirits were damped for the rest of the dav, and he very soon befjan to feel that tlie habits of society were so much at variance with those of study, that he must of necessity abandon his gayer pursuits, in order to gain respect as *' a rising young man." He wished there was no attraction to induce him to waste his time, and he began to doubt whether it was wise, or even becoming in a rational being, to be so attracted. The little he had now read just sufficed to shew him how much he had to learn. It was the result of accident, and not of stupidity, that had kept him in the darkness of ignorance, and when, for the first time, that darkness was dispelled, it was more than his head could stand, or his judgment direct — he was giddy with the new world that thus seemed to burst THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 63 upon him, and he knew not where or on what ta direct his attention. Even his own na- turally good capacity was at this moment a disadvantage to him, for it pointed out too many subjects of inquiry at once : his quick- ness of apprehension had soon enabled him to gain a smattering upon all the particular hobbies of his present friends, but his mind now soared above such surface-learning, and he determined upon taking some decided step towards his own improvement. This step could not be taken without a struggle ; but he had heard so much ridicule cast upon the indulgence of feeling of all sorts, and more particularly upon that sentiment under which he was, in fact, then labouring more than he cared to own — he had so often heard it discussed, whether women or negroes had the best claim to be considered second in 64 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. the chain of beings, that he began to feel ashamed of being guilty of such a weakness, as losing his time in pursuit of a person, who was even constituted so very inferior to himself; and, paradoxical as it may sound, he almost hated the object of his affection, because she interrupted his plans, and put him out of humour with himself. ^.,, How long this struggle might have con- tinued, had nothing occurred to decide him, we cannot pretend to say ; but he was assisted in his decision by the young lady herself. While Herbert's mind was undergoing this .alteration, it must not be supposed that his manner continued the same. A mixture of conceit at what he had acquired, and of mor- tified vanity at the discovery of his ignorance, cast a gloom on his spirits, and at times caused a sourness in his manner, which rendered him THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 65 far less agreeable than he had formerly been. He was SO afraid of thinking he was influenced by her, that he made a point of contradicting her upon every occasion. For a time he con- tinued to frequent the places in which he knew she would be found ; but he then either kept aloof from her, or affected a contempt for many subjects on which they had formerly agreed ; and, in short, made himself so nearly disagreeable to her, that she, being anxious to vindicate her own dignity, assumed a proud indifference to his society and attention, that much assisted our hero's plan of withdrawing himself from London. They parted company with, apparently if not really, very different feelings to those which the world had supposed to have previously existed between them. Herbert retired to his guardian's country house, for the double purpose of consoling him S6 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. for the absence of his wife and daughter, and of affording himself the opportunity of study- ing the works of those authors who were most recommended by Messrs. Benson and Co. The young lady whose pride he had thus wounded by uncalled-for rudeness, remained in London till the season was over, and then she also retired to the country, as we suppose all young ladies do, for the improvement of their minds, and the strengthening of their morals; indeed, we have often thought that this tem- porai7 retirement from the scenes of gaiety, is the best means of saving their heads and hearts from all the bad consequences which would be otherwise likely to accrue from the whirl of London dissipation, idleness^ and flattery. THE SCHOOL Or FASHION. 67 CHAPTER IV. Mr. Lovaine was most heartily rejoiced to see his nephew; first, because he loved him very sincerely ; and secondly, because he was beginning to be rather bored at spending so much time entirely alone. He had a few neighbours who occasionally came to him ; but yet he had lived so much out of the world, never going to London but on public or pri- vate business, that he had not the means of consoling himself by other society for the loss of that of Mrs. and Miss Lovaine. To be sure he had been able by his unremitting exertions to send one or two poachers, post-paid, to Botany Bay, and that had undoubtedly been 68 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. both an useful and an agreeable occupation;' but he wanted somebody in an evening to whom he could exclaim, whether they agreed with him or not, against the sin of promoting commercial intercourse with France, since no- thing but gold was taken to that country, and nothing but vices and follies imported into this; and before whom he could expatiate upon the danger of educating the poor, as it only taught them to be discontented with their happy lot; and express his abomination of those rascally radicals, who wished to overturn all the good old wise institutions of our fore- fathers. .UBOiq^f ^xu " My dear boy," said Mr.Lovaine, the even- ' ing after his arrival, « 1 am very glad to see you ' here again; and, to say the truth, I had hardly '' expected one of your age to have left London '' before the gaieties were all over— I fear you THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 69 will find it sadly dull without your aunt and cousin." ^^.r,^„^Pj_ f,^^+^c.rT^ ^. I -»,*,-« " Thank you, my dear uncle, there is no fear of my being bored when I can have the disposal of my time; though, of course, I re- gret, for both our sakes, that they should^ be., absent." . : " No, no, I dare sa}' you youngsters can always amuse yourselves well enough when you have the disposal of your time in London : but I don't know what such an idle fellow iis you will do with the common enemy till the shooting season begins." " I hope the reproach of idleness, Sir, is no longer deserved," repHed Herbert, with a little feeling of pique, as if his uncle ought to have known that he was • a rising young man ' who despised an idle fellow." Mr. Lovaine was, however, quite ignorant 70 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. of this important circumstance, and after ra- ther rallying his nephew upon the idea of his being otherwise than idle, the conversation dropped. " These are dreadful times, Herbert ! I suppose you don't interest yourself much in these matters ; but heaven only knows, if this confounded spirit of discontent and insubor- dination is not soon quenched, what will be- come of the country !" " To what do you allude. Sir ?" " Ah ! I thought you never would know or care anything about public matters; I verily believe, boy, you can scarcely tell whether we ai'e at peace or war at this moment.'* " I beg your pardon, my dear uncle, you do me injustice," he replied, writhing under those constant allusions to days of ignorance ; and the obtuseness of his uncle in not perceiv- THE 8CHC0L OF FASHION. 71 ing that he was a far better judge of affairs of state than himself. " Well ! never mind," rejoined Mr. Lovaine, " any thing is better than young men pretend- ing to give their opinion about matters of which they can know nothing. I have some- times wished you were a little more industrious, but then, perhaps, it would only have made you conceited — the less we know the better, I often think — and, at any rate, Herbert, we are very good friends, and shall, I hope, continue so. And now we will talk of some- thing more amusing to you than politics, which are more fit for old fogrums like your uncle." There was something so provokingly kind in the manner in which Mr. Lovaine said this, that though his nephew was mortified to the quick at having his powers and character so misapprehended, yet his kinder feelings forbad 72 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. his combating every word his guardian had uttered, and proving to him at once how far more capable he (Herbert) was of giving his opinion on government in general, than those who had the ill luck to be twenty or thirty years further back than himself in the march of intellect. He, therefore, actually submitted to the degradation of being supposed too young to understand a subject of which he considered himself master, sooner than overwhelm a per- son whom he had for so many years looked upon as a father. But it was not to be expected that this for- bearance should last for' ever. Herbert con- sidered it as much his duty to promote the cause of liberty and reform, as Mrs. Lovaine had thought it hers to go abroad for Elinor's advantage : when, therefore, Mr. Lovaine, in the course of a few days, repeated his horror of THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 73 the spirit of insubordination which pervaded the lower orders, Herbert remarked that it was natural, and the inevitable, indeed necessary, consequence of the oppression and vices of the higher orders, as they are called. " As they are called ! " exclaimed Mr. Lo- vaine ; " oppression ! vices ! What the devil do you mean, boy ?" " Simply, Sir, that as there is no effect with- out a cause, we are natually led to consider what is the cause of that effect to which you so much object, and there can be no doubt but that rebellion is the natural consequence " ^^ Why I suppose, Herbert, you don't pre- tend to say that there is any oppression in this country; nothing but a rascally mob, better fed than taught, would say that I they only want a pretence for making a row ! I wonder how you would quiet all this piece of work at TOL. I. E 74 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. , Manchester, as you know so exactly where all the mischief lies !" " As it is the cause, and not the effect, to which we must apply the remedy, I would alter the whole system of government. The present corrupt trade of borough-mongering ; the mo- nopoly of corn by the land-holders ; the undue influence of the church " Mr. Lovaine here interrupted this perfect system of reform by much such a laugh as one bestows on a child, when it is descanting on some topic of which we are confident it un- derstands nothing — from whose simplicity we derive amusement, and against whose harmless prattle we harbour no anger. " Well done, young one ! you are a fine fellow ! going to upset all the bulwarks of our glorious constitution at once ! Pretty work, in- deed ! No aristocracy, I suppose, at all, for fear THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 75 of their setting a bad example to their inferiors. You are a mighty fine reformer, truly ! No, no, Herbert, depend upon it there is nothing like Old England on the face of the earth : we are the finest and most moral people in the world, in spite of all those radical scoundrels !" Herbert unluckily felt it his duty here to suggest to his uncle the superiority of America; and this was a little more than Mr. Lovaine's temper could stand — it was a very tender point ; he looked upon the independence of America as an encouragement to every lawless propensity — to children to go to Gretna Green, or commit any other overt act of rebellion ; and he never considered any parent or guardian safe from insult, on the part of their children or wards, if they thought America a flourishing, prosperous country ; consequently he gave poor Herbert such a lecture upon his political views, E 2 76 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. as made him think it would be wiser, at least for the present, to waive any further discussion on the merits of his opinions; for, besides being really, and with mucli reason, attached to his uncle, he had not yet shaken off a certain fear with which authority naturally inspires childhood, and which often lasts far beyond the early part of our existence. He equally regretted and pitied his narrow- mindedness, and he was not a little galled, that a man who was born before liberality was known, should so presume upon what was, in fact, his greatest misfortune, {viz. having been born and bred too early in the eighteenth century,) as to treat him with contempt. As Herbert could not possibly derive plea- sure from the conversation of any one so ill- informed as his uncle, he consoled himself by ' getting up' as many subjects as if he was to THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 77 have undergone a college examination : this was very instructive to himself, but not very agreeable to Mr. Lovaine senior, who did not like solitude, and who did like the society of those who were more disposed to listen than to reply to him, or who, if they did answer, ac- quiesced in his opinions instead of contradict- ing him. On these points he was not hu- moured by Herbert, who thought it a weak- ness to follow the dictates of his feelings, and, therefore, though it cost him some- thing not to devote his time to the amuse- ment of his uncle, yet he resolutely deter- mined to read for a certain number of hours every day, and never to sacrifice that object — coitte qu'il coute; and whenever Mr. Lovaine would speak as if he was Sir Oracle, his nephew thought himself in duty bound to ivy and set him right. 78 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. It may easily be supposed that two people like Herbert and his uncle did not make a very pleasant tHed-tete, therefore in the course of time a few neighbours w^ere called in to their assistance and relief by Mr. Lovaine : he was in fact a very good-natured man in his own way, and as he thought it quite natural that his ward should like more company, he de- termined upon inviting a party to meet him. He always wished people to be amused, but he liked them to be amused in whatever w^ay he pleased. In his invitations he selected those whose houses he recollected Herbert to have the most frequented in days of yore. The party therefore consisted of Sir Gilbert Bay ley, the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Buckle, Lord and Lady Blaney Mount Shannon, and Mr. and Miss Dyer. In order to give our readei*s THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 79 the opportunity of judging how far these visitors were likely to contribute to the amuse- ment of our youthful philosopher, we beg leave to give them some small insight into the characters of each. Sir Gilbert was a baronet of considerable fortune and a good pack of fox-hounds ; his age between thirty and forty, his body active his mind vacant; his principal amusements consisted in driving a team (not to plough), hunting, shooting, and drinking as much as was agreeable to his company. He was very good-natured in lending his horses, and giving a cast by his drag; not married, though not absolutely leading the life of a bachelor, and, in short, he was universally reckoned by the set in which he lived, a devilish good fellow. He had often lent Herbert a horse and a gun, more than once had made him less sober than he 80 THE 3GH00L OF FASHION. would Otherwise have been, and there had been a moment in Lovaine's life when he hatl ad- mired, almost with envy, the establishment of carriages, horses, dogs, pheasants, and par- tridges of Sir Gilbert Bayley. This admiration, however, only existed when he was first emerg- ing from childhood, for living a little while in what is considered the best society in London, he soon discovered that the slang and ton of Sir Gilbert was altogether of a very maiivais genre, and by no means to be adopted. Sir Gilbert became therefore far more a subject of amuse- ment than imitation, and he could with diffi- culty refrain from laughing when he saw the perfect gravity, the sort of hond-Jide manner in which Sir Gilbert played at being coachman, v/henever he could find, or rather make, the opportunity. So thoroughly indeed did he delight in this masquerading, that he used to THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 81 accept the proffered shilling of a passenger with a feeling of triumph at having performed his part so well. We must, however, do his libe- rality the justice to add, that the real coach- man was never defrauded by the mistake. He was indeed well known, much liked, and even looked up to " down the road," for he had al- ways a pleasant word to say to all the landlords and landladies, chambermaids, and ostlers besides never failing, when driving his own team, to lift the elbow in kind recognition of some professional brother whip, provided they had "kept time," for to those who were "beyond time," he would hold out his watch as he pas- sed, with a wink and a nod, implying reproof for their tardiness. Such was Sir Gilbert, who had afforded much sport to our hero in different ways, for although his society was not, and could not E 5 82 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. be agreeable to any young man of more intel- lectual pursuits, yet as he was a good specimen of the genus " gentleman blackguard," he did not wish to cut him ; and as he had often ren- dered him many little services, he felt that he ought not to drop him : consequently they were upon very good terms, though by no means intimate. Mr. Lovaine was one of those who, never changing his own opinions, conceived every one else to be equally constant to theirs, and therefore, as he remembered that Herbert had been very fond of going to see Sir Gilbert some few years before, he thought he was quite sure of pleasing his nephew by inviting the Baronet over to Beechwood Park. The Rev. Mr. Buckle was the owner of a good living and small fortune, who resided about ten miles form Mr. Lovaine. He was THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 83 SO thoroughly orthodox in every respect what- soever, that every body wondered how soon he would be promoted. When, therefore, he ap- proached that age at which he felt he ought to be a Dean, he grew fat, to be in readiness for it : — the deanery, however, did not come, and he found himself and his family increased in size, but not in income. The latter circum- stance was by no means agreeable to Mrs. Buckle, who, though very fond of her children, was also very fond of a little finery ; and the retrenchments which it became necessary to make in their way of living were so far from pleasing to her, that she took no small pains to conceal from her friends and acquaintance the absolute necessity there was for her practising the most rigid economy. Of Miss Rosa Buckle there is but little to say, except that she was not pretty, though 84 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. her mother constantly nssured her that she was so — and that there v/as a decided ri- valship between her and Miss Laura Dyer. Miss Rosa always dressed her hair and cut her clothes after the pattern of the Ladies Danvers, daughters to the Earl of Daventry, —of whose parish her father was Rector — and Miss Laura always went to London, and had her hair coiffed, and her gowns made a la Fran^aise, Mr. Dyer w^as a retired clothier of immense wealth, who, being anxious to become a coun- try gentleman, bought every scrap of land that was to be sold in the county, and talked of vestries, turnpike and county meetings, as if he had never attended to any other business in his life. Lord Blaney Mount Shannon was a native of the sister kingdom, with high animal spi- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 85 rits, some wit (and what Irishman has not ?) passionately fond of children, for whose amuse- ment, and indeed for the amusement of any one, he had no objection to make himself more or less of a buffoon : he would sing absurd songs, tell absurd stories — or dress himself up— or do any thing else which his own whim, or that of any of the company, suggested; — con- sequently^ he was the idol of all children and adults — and Herbert, amongst others, had al- ways preserved a sort of grateful liking for one whom he had formerly worshipped. His wife thought and talked of nothing but her dear Blaney — her sweet little ones — and every de- tail of domestic arrangement. As Herbert was not conscious of how great a change he had himself undergone, he did not imagine that he should view the present party with very different feelings to those which he 86 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. entertained towards them a twelvemonth be- fore. He therefore assisted his uncle to receive the guests ; and though he inwardly groaned at such an interruption to his studies, he was not prepared for all the disgust with which their conversation afterwards inspired him. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 87 CHAPTER V. Dinner being announced, the dreadful cere- mony of handing and being handed, or perhaps not handed, into the dining-room, naturally began. What a number of unpleasant situa- tions does this little ceremony occasion ! an in- feriority of rank obliges the favoured lover to cede his place to some great heir-apparent, whilst the young lady, whom no other rea- son than the same deficiency of rank obliges him to take out, was perhaps dying to give herself a chance with the heir-apparent. Ma- ny a poor girl falls an unresisting victim to the greatest bore in the room, because the only person for whom she cares does not hasten to »© THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. her relief, lest it should be thought " particu- lar :" and many is the unfortunate lady, whose absence of rank making her equally eligible to the arm of at least half a dozen younger brothers, passes them alone, each cavalier doubting which ought to honour her, till she is half down stairs, when, hearing the quick approach of footsteps, she anxiously hopes that some one meditates rescuing her from her awkward situation, and yet feels it would be undignified to stop or look behind and learn her fate ! Herbert spared Mrs. Buckle all these un- pleasant doubts by handing her into dinner : and on his other side sat Miss Dyer. He could not say to them, " How happy could I be with either !" for he decidedly thought " how happy he should be with neither ! " Though, as they did " both plague him together," he THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 89 felt much inclined to threaten, that " to neither a word would he say !" " Delightfully well your uncle is looking," said Mrs. Buckle, after having talked over the weather, &c.; " We say, Mr. Herbert, that there is nothing like country air and early hours for preserving health and looks." " Very !" replied Herbert, not being aware of what she had said, but wishing to agree. " La ! Mr. Lovaine," said Miss Dyer, " I wonder how you can think so ! For my part, I find London as wholesome again — all the men look like farmers, and all the girls like dairy- maids, in the country." Now, as this observation was accompanied by something like a glance at the ruddy cheeks of Miss Rosa Buckle, it certainly was very ill- natured; but Herbert did not the least care whether it was so or not. Mrs. Buckle, how- 90 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. ever, felt piqued at the assumed superiority of Miss Dyer, in consequence of her yearly visit to the metropolis, and therefore said, in the most conciliating tone of voice, " I am quite glad, my dear Miss Laura, to hear you say that London did agree with you ; for I have really thought you were looking so poorly ever since your return from town^ that I was sadly afraid it had disagreed with you." Miss Dyer made no more pointed remarks upon the rich bloom of country misses. " I suppose, Mr. Lovaine, you found it a very gay season, this year, in London ? And there were reports..." she added, looking something which, like Lord Burleigh's nod, meant a great deal..." Now, don't be angry at an old friend's joking a little — but, if it takes place in the country, I hope you will send us a bit of cake ?" THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 91 " Really, Mrs. Buckle, I am as ignorant of any reports concerning me, as I am certain of their being groundless," replied Herbert, whose attention was at least fixed by this short speech, which had unluckily offended him in three different ways. First, she ought not to have supposed that he cared for London gaieties. Secondly, there was an impertinent allusion to a subject which had cost him no small annoy- ance. And, thirdly, the idea of a joke at all was contrary to his taste. He had often heard Benson and Co. lament in triumph their want of capacity to comprehend what was meant by a joke. They could no more see what it proved, than could the mathematician when he had finished Milton's Paradise Lost ! The tone in which Mrs. Buckle had been answered, had given her so little encourage- ment to continue her facetious remarks on his 92 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. prospects, that for a time he was relieved from her conversation. " I suppose you intend going to the ball given by those dear Lancers, at ?" said Miss Laura. "All the world will be there !" Herbert denied any intention of honouring the fete with his presence. " I am quite astonished," she continued, " that you have not gone into the army, it is such a noble profession." " I am, perhaps, not quite so much im- pressed with its utility in time of peace as you appear to be," replied Herbert, who looked upon a standing army as a standing grievance, endangering the liberties of the people — a frightful engine in the pay of government — a heavy tax upon the country, &c. 8cc. We will spare our readers the details of the amusement which young Lovaine derived, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 93 during the rest of the dinner, from the remarks of Mrs. Buckle and Miss Dyer : they may be imagined from what has already been related. In the course of time Lady Blaney Mount Shannon, being first in rank, watched for the eye of Mrs. Buckle, to make that little signal for a move, which probably creates in no two people precisely similar feelings. To the lady with a weak stomach, whose feet begin to '^well, and her nose to redden, from the heat of the dining-room, it is the greatest blessing. To the coquette, who hates an interruption to her flirtation, and anticipates no pleasure from the society of her own sex, it is a grievance. To the neighbour of a bore it is a relief; and in that light (to judge by the conversation which generally takes place after the departure of the ladies) it is viewed by the male part of the society. 94 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. We have often heard conjectures made by men, as to the probable subjects of discussion in the female conclave after dinner. Though as boys, under the age of thirteen and four- teen, are generally admitted into these petti- coat mysteries, under the false idea that they are too young to understand what they hear, we are surprised that they should not remem- ber, that there is no time when ladies' small- talk is so very small as then. All the ladies of course go first to the looking-glass, to see if their curls have been at all discomposed by heat, awkward servants, or any other such ca- lamity. They next remark upon the colour of each others' gowns, or ribbons, or hats, or scarfs; and then those never-failing topics of births, deaths, marriages, servants, nurseries' and governesses, naturally begin to occupy their attention. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 95 " Lady Blaney," said Mrs. Buckle, " can you recommend me a nursery-maid? I find we cannot manage without one, now baby begins to walk." " I do not at present know of one that I could recommend, for I think one should always be so very careful about recommending people when children are in question. You have a nurse, I think ?'* Mrs. Buckle replied in the affirmative. " Well now you must excuse me for giving you advice ; but to people who are obliged to mind expense, I think it might easily be ma- naged to make your own maid the superintend- ing person, and so have a maid under her ; by this means you keep one servant less." Lady Blaney was very proud of her arrange- ment of the home department ; and as she was ' My Lady,' she thought it a merit to be so. 96 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. and therefore proclaimed it. Mrs. Buckle, on the other hand, never could bear to be sup- posed *' poor " ; and, consequently, as her greatest object was to impress others with her own indifference to expense, Lady Blaney's advice was entirely thrown away : indeed, were the truth known, she had very little thoughts of increasing her establishment, and only wished to show to her friend that she had the power of so doing. Not liking, therefore, the manner in which her " show off'" had been taken, she quickly turned the subject by saying — " Do tell me. Lady Blaney, how do vou settle the matter now between your nurse and the governess ? Do the younger children dine with Miss Wilkinson yet ?" Mrs. Buckle was immediately informed of every particular respecting the children's eat. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 97 ing, drinking, and sleeping; how their cribs were placed ; when they exercised their bodies ; and how their minds were cultivated. " I suppose,*' said her Ladyship, in allusion to Mrs. Buckle's situation, " ' you expect' soon." " Hush," she replied, drawing her chair nearer to Lady Blaney, '* speak lower, if you please, when Rosa is in the room, she is so in- nocent, dear girl ! She actually now believes that all her little brothers and sisters are found under the cherry-tree ! It is so very delight- ful to have their minds such perfect white paper !" Here the ladies whispered, and the words " last year," " before the time," " nothing ready," " such distress," " baby linen," &c, &c. were indistinctly heard by the two young ladies, who were diligently occupied at a table VOL. I. F 98 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. in another part of the room — Miss Rosa in spoiling musUn after a pattern given her by Lady Emma Danvers, and Miss Laura in copying music that she had heard in London, into the smallest possible book. Though these two opening buds had no great affection for each other, yet, as the two married ladies had got into such close conference that they felt themselves unheeded, they took the opportunity of having a little friendly chat. *' So, Rosa, I see Mrs. Buckle is in the fa- mily way again ! What a number of you there will be to be sure !" " Hush ! Laura, pray speak lower, for Mamma thinks I don't know any thing about it. Our old nurse and Sally always tell me every thing, but Mamma would be so angry if she knew it. Do you know I heard her one day advise Lady Blaney never to let her girls have THE SCHOOI- OF FASHION. 99 the run of the library; so the first day Papa went out, I got into the study to see what the reason of this could be, and I'm sure I never read so much in my life as I did that after- noon ; but, la ! there was nothing that I could find but what every body knows." '• What books did you read ?" •' Oh ! I looked into such a quantity; and as Mamma is alwa\^s so afraid even of my bro- thers seeing * Reece's Medical Guide,' I took down a book all about physic, just to know why we may not see it." ".And did you make out?" inquired Laura. " No ! for just as I was opening Metaphy- sics, I heard a footstep ; but it seemed to be about some horrid disorder^ I saw the word 'matter' so often: I don't know where the complaint is." F 2 100 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " No more do I," said Laura, who had, how- ever, some indistinct notion that she had heard Metaphysics mentioned with Craniology in London, " but from what I heard in town, I believe it is only a disorder in the head." What a difference it makes in the friendships of youth when there is nothing to excite feel- ings of jealousy or rivalry ! Laura did not like Rosa at dinner, because they were in company, and she feared people would admire Rosa's red cheeks more than her fashionable air. Now that no one else was present, they were very fond of each other; and Miss Dyer being tv,o years older than Miss Buckle, the latter listened with great attention to what she had to say; and the former had no objection to opening her heart to an attentive and envying listener. Thus, after one had copied a few wrong notes, and the other stitched the small THE SCHOOL OF FASHION* 101 Stalk of a flower, Laura sighed loud, that Rosa might ask why. " It is ten days yet to the ball !" said Miss Dyer. " How noble in those dear OflScers to give us a ball, though they are all so poor that they say themselves they never can pay for it." " It is, indeed," exclaimed Rosa with en- thusiasm. " So considerate of them, to be thinking of the amusements of others in the midst of all their own hardships ! Night after night they take it by turns to mount guard ! I often think how shocking it is, that whilst we are sleeping comfortably in our beds, without waking all night, they never close their eyes, and are watching, even in time of peace, over the safety of their country, like guardian angels !" 102 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION"* This sentiment almost made Rosa's tears, fall, she thought it so beautiful ; and it had not struck her before, though she had also be- stowed a few thoughts upon the Regiment. " You don't know what it is to be unhappy yet," she continued. " Yes, indeed ! but I do," said Rosa, as she gave a little sigh; " only Mamma don't know it." " You will see him at the ball.** " Whom, Laura ?" inquired Miss Buckle, anxious to know which 'him* she meant, and equally curious about her friend's ' him,' as in- terested in her own. " Why, my Eustace to be sure." *' Do you know him to speak to, Laura ?'* " Know him ! I have danced twice with him." Poor Rosa felt quite crest-fallen, for she THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 103 (lid not know her Frederick, though she was quite as much devoted to him as was Miss Dyer to her Eustace. " He actually brought the invitation him- self to us," contined Laura, " for the Regi- mental ball, and he looked so handsome in his dear foraging cap, and the sash tied round his waist ! I am trying to learn the stitcli, that I may make one for him, if he continues to shew me as much attention as he has done lately." " Does he really talk to you, and make verses, and give you his hair, and look at the moon at the same hour that you do ?" eagerly demanded Rosa, anxious to discover how much more blessed was her friend than her- self. " No ! not yet ; but I am to dance the supper dances with him at the ball, and heaven 104 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. knows what the fascinating creature may per- suade me to accept there." Here Laura looked down and simpered at the thoughts of the proposal which she con- ceived it probable that she might receive from Cornet Somers. " Ah ! Laura ! how I envy you," said Rosa ; " I don't believe Frederick knows me, even by sight ; but I heard his voice when he was talk- ing to one of my cousins the other day. I have bought a book on purpose to keep a journal of all he says, if I could only get introduced to him ; but Mamma thinks I bought it to write out the History of England, and tliat sort of stuff. I cannot sleep for thinking of the ball, and there I shall see him in full regimentals." " How I pity you, poor child !" said Miss Dyer, feeling quite satisfied of her own supe- rior powers of attraction. " I wonder you can THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 105 live without something to comfort you all this time." " But I have one treasure which I look at every day," said Miss Buckle, " and I always wear it at my heart, and then I try to copy it, and I sleep with it under my pillow, because then I dream of Frederick." " What is it ?" exclaimed Miss Laura, the horrible idea having crossed her mind that Rosa possessed a picture of her lover, while she was without any such delightful consola- tion in the absence of her Cornet. " Stop a moment," whispered Miss Buckle, as she warily looked round to be sure that her mother and Lady Blaney were month-nursing, or suckling, or weaning with suiEcient earnest- ness to prevent their observing her, " I will shew you ;" and as the rich bloom spread all ovei' her face, head, neck, shoulders, and arms, f5 106 THE SCHOOL OF TASHlGlft, till she looked like a fresh blown piony, she drew from her bosom a visiting card ! '' Here it is, take care, it is his own hand-writing ! I stole it out of my uncle's hall the other day, and have never let it be away from me for a moment since ; it is as good as printing, I de- clare ; Lieutenant Frederick Radcliffe ! what a beautiful name ! Don't you pity me, Laura ?" Before, however. Miss Dyer could assure her of her sympathy, a move on the part of Mrs. Buckle and Lady Blaney caused the card to be popped back to its hiding-place, and all further epanchement to cease. The two elder ladies had finished their maternal communi- cations, and having nothing else to talk upon, the large work-basket of Lady Blaney, and the tiny box of Mrs. Buckle were opened, and in a few seconds the former was diligently sewing a boy^s shirt, and the latter counting THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 107 her beads over a necklace, by which means they each displayed their particular tastes — Miladi for economy, and Mrs. Buckle for finery. From the time of the ladies' retreat from the drawing-room, Herbert found himself assailed by the conversation of Sir Gilbert, who be- came his next neighbour. " How devilish well the old boy looks," — was his opening remark to young Lovaine, as he drew his chair a little further round, and by so doing obtained a better view of his host. " So Madam has taken Miss amongst the Parlez-vous ! By Jove, if she had been my wife, she should have trained the filly at home. She'll run none the better for all this hacking about." " Herbert replied, that he believed his aunt was fond of travelling; but that he, indeed, did think it a great loss of time to Elinor." 108 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " Loss of time ! d — time — who cares for time ! — that's not what I mean, but I thono-ht your cousin a pretty obhging girl, that had got no nonsense about her ; and now heaven knows what finery may be put into her head — ten to one if she wo'n't be too much afraid of the dirt to ride to covert with you any more." " As I have no particular pleasure in hunt- ing, the loss of her society upon those occa- sions will not be much annoyance to me." " Not hunt ! — but, to be sure, you may shoot till February, and I'll give you as pretty a day's sport as ever you had, if you've a mind to come to me." " You are very kind, Sir Gilbert, but I don't intend to shoot." " Not hunt or shoot ! and I know you never could handle the ribbons— whv, what THE SCHOOL OF PASHION. 109 the devil do you mean to do with yourself all through the winter ?" " My present plan is to read as much, and with as much advantage, as I possibly can." " Why, Herbert, you quite vex me ! 1 had always looked upon you as one of the most promising young sportsmen in our part of the world ! and now to give it all up for this con- founded reading ! Who ever eat, drank, or slept the better for reading, I wonder !" " I cannot, however, afford to lose my time," replied Lovaine. " Well, well ! take the advice of an old stager — old, at least, when compared with a younker like you; and remember that there is no such ' loss of time,' since you are so fond of the term, as, when there is ' a southerly breeze and a cloudy sky,' to be poring over your books, or quill-driving, like an attorney's 110 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. clerk, instead of profiting by a good scenting day." Herbert scarcely noticed this friendly ad- monition — his disgust at the thoughts, that a creature who pretended to the rights of a man, should be so lost to the sense of reason, knew no bounds — that one, who actually, by his corrupt influence, sent two corrupt mem- bers, to legislate in that sink of corruption, the House of Commons, should thus endeavour to prevent others from acquiring knowledge, which he could not, or would not, attain him- self, inspired him with horror, and he was far from encouraging any further conversation with Sir Gilbert Bayley. Herbert gained but little, however, by not entering into conversation himself, as, although he could close his own mouth, he could not shut his ears to the discourse of others. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Ill Mr. Dver talked aojainst the manufacturino: interest, when opposed to the landed interest ; inveighed against the trustees of one road — and the badness of some other, in which lat- ter grievance Lord Blaney most heartily join- ed, and swore by Saint Patrick^ that he would indict the owners of the neutral ground, if they did not make the road passable — for that the last time he had gone by it, he had found it quite impassable all the way. Mr. Buckle, and Mr. Lovaine, senior, des- canted upon the spirit of discontent which had lately shewn itself, notwithstanding the good- ness of the times. Lord Blaney occasionally called out, when Herbert forgot to pass the bottle, that he had never known before, that he was so fond of Lord Cork, but that he hoped he was bottling some good joke; and Sir Gilbert inquired of Mr. Dyer, how much 112 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. he gave for his cob, and of Lord Blaney, what he had done with the chestnut horse he used to drive in his bugg}' — then appealed to the me- mory of both upon the subject of his own off- wheeler — a brown mare called Peggy, that he had bought out of the heavy Gloucester, for tlie purpose of informing them that his present near-leader, called Madge, was her daughter. In listening involuntarily to these and si- milar topics of conversation, was Herbert em- ployed (if employed it could be called) till his uncle rang for coffee, when they rejoined the ladies, (who had all four, it must be owned, become rather sleepy) in the drawing-room, where he received fresh disgusts; and here, consequently, he formed many plans for the radical reform of society in general. Tea and coffee being ended, music, that THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 113 solace of silence, sleepiness, and tedium, was proposed by Mr. Lovaine — and " young ladies may we draw upon you for a song," was said by Lord Blaney. All the music that Miss Rosa and Miss Laura had brought with them, and all that Miss Lovaine had left behind her, was looked over and considered, and at last one duet was discovered that both knew; but then the never-failing difficulty arose, viz. that of both singing the same part — and that part the first. " Rosa, I believe you can take a second, as your voice is not so high as mine," said Miss Dyer, not liking to own her want of capability to take the second herself. *' No," said Rosa, " I can only sing the first, because that is the tune." Mrs. Buckle knew nothing of music, but ^he just whispered to Lady Blaney : " How 114 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. very odd it is, that Miss Dyer alv\'ays will be first : did you not hear her just now trying to persuade my poor little Rosa to be second to her?" " Herbert Lovaine had a charming voice when he was a boy — why don't he help them out of their difficulties ?" said Lady Blaney, not much interested about music, except when her lord and master sang some comic song which she knew well enough by heart, to un- derstand all the jokes it contained. The young ladies found it so difficult to ar- range which should take the first part in the duet, that that point was given up, and Miss Laura sang, with an indifferent accent and not much taste, " Portrait Charmant ;" and Miss Rosa got through " Auld lang syne ;" during which performance Mrs. Buckle nodded her head out of time, and said to Mr. Lovaine, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 115 " My little warbler is the songstress of nature — I was afraid of her losing her natural talent, if she was taught." The songstress of art, however, as well as of nature, soon exhausted, like a hand-organ, all the airs to which their barrels could be set, and then Mrs. Buckle, by asking Mr. Lovaine why his nephew did not sing, reminded him that he did so formerly, and that he might as well do so now ; — consequently, Herbert was requested from more quarters than one at the same moment, to favour them. He strenuously denied all power of complying with this re- quest, and that in such a manner, as would have led any stranger to suppose that (to use Sir Gilbert's expression) he had never turned a tune in his life. The continuance, however, of any such error, was entirely prevented, by Mr. Lovaine calling out : 116 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " Come Herbert ! v/hat's the use of your having had a singing-master if you cannot sing when you are asked ?" Nothing could be more unpleasant than this reproof from his uncle, for it not only savoured of authority, but it reminded himself, and in- formed some of the company, that he had formerly been so prodigal of his time and talents as to waste them upon the cultivation of an accomplishment which he now despised, and would fain disown; he therefore again coldly declined, saying he had given up music. Mr. Lovaine was a good deal displeased, and turning to Mrs. Buckle said, " I cannot conceive what the deuce has hap- pened to that boy,heisnot like the same person." " Ah ! Mr. Lovaine ! we old ones forget ' the little god !' but you know young people will be young people." THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. IIT The latter was undoubtedly a most incon- trovertible fact ; but as it had never befor-^ struck Mr. Lovaine that his adopted son had fallen in love, his attention was wholly fixed upon the first part of her reply. " Why, surely Mrs. Buckle, he would hardly have allowed any preference of the nature to which you allude to exist, without, I might almost say, my leave ; but certainly not with- out informing me of it," said Mr. Lovaine, senior, " one of whose many unpardonable faults in the eyes of Mr. Lovaine, junior, was, that he never could be clearly made to com- prehend, that Herbert was old enough and wise enough to be his own master." " Do you know,** he continued, " who is supposed to have wrought all this change in him ?" 118 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " No, my dear sir, you must excuse me ; if you do not know, I will not tell tales : indeed it is a very sad gossiping world in which we live." " Has he said any thing to you upon the subject, Mrs. Buckle ?" " Nothing, I assure you; indeed when I began to quiz him a little at dinner to-day, he quite denied the report." This was some relief to the mind of Mr. Lovaine; not that he objected to Herbert's falling in love, but that he objected to his doing so without his leave. He determined in his own mind to speak to him upon the subject the very first opportunity, and the conversation dropped. Lord Blaney, who was always ready to devote himself to the amuse- ment of others, had only to be asked once, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 119 and immediately sang, without accompani- ment, but with a degree of spirit nearly amounting to buffoonery, one of Mathews's most popular songs, " Four and twenty Alder- men all of a row." All his auditors laughed heartily, some be- cause " My Lord" sang ; others because they really understood the jokes, or were afraid of not appearing to do so; and Lady Blaney was amused because it was her dear Lord Blaney who sang. Herbert alone shewed no pleasure at his Lordship's performance; he retired gradually to a far corner in the room, turned over the leaves of a folio volume, and remained perfectly silent till the party broke up, and each retired to their apartment for the night. Most of them slept without the aid of any unpleasant reflections to assist 120 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " nature's soft nurse ;" but Herbert ruminated with disgust over all the opinions, manners, and conversation of all the visitors, before he could effect the desirable object of steeping his senses in dull foro^etfulness. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 121 CHAPTER VI. The following morning Herbert arose early, to endeavour to make up for the loss of time which the guests had occasioned him on the preceding evening. He declined accompany- ing Sir Gilbert and Lord Blaney to the stables, whither those two worthies repaired immediately after breakfast, to sit upon the corn-bin, and filHp oats at the horses ; each trying, his skill in taking successful aim at the ears or else- where, though neither uttered a word upon the subject, for even they would have been ashamed of owning to the amusement of so puerile a diversion, by making any comment on their success or failure. VOL. I. G 122 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Herbert found himself engaged in conversa- tion with Mr. Buckle ; and, unfortunately, also found himself under the necessity of prov- ing to him that the clergy were overpaid, and that the exaction of tithes was an unjust and grievous tax upon the industry of the poor. The Rev. Richard Buckle was ready to ex- pire at such heresy ; buc the more he talked the more he excited the contempt of his anta- gonist, till they parted at last in mutual dis- gust — the Reformer at the prejudices of the Parson, and the Parson at the innovating spirit of the Reformer. But we will not detain our readers by giving them a regular journal of all the intellectual contests which Herbert maintained with all the members of the party, as well as with his uncle; or by pointing out how invariably he admired his own sagacity and learning, and THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 123 pitied the ignorance of his opponents. Suffice it to say, that he shocked Lady Blaney beyond description, by broaching the Malthusian opinions upon our overstocked population ; for her Ladyship not only considered that no married woman fulfilled her vocation who had not more sweet pledges than she and her hus- band could possibly maintain, but also thought it a duty in a public point of view — as the pro- duction of a numerous family was the only way in which she could " do the state some service." He provoked Lord Blaney by not admiring Liston — despising a comic song — having a con- tempt for a harlequin farce — and last, though not least, by not seeing the fun of his Lord- ship's own jokes. He angered Mr. Dyer by defending the conduct of the "operatives.'* He affronted the Misses Laura and Rosa, by not saying any of those soft things to which G 2 124 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. they were entitled by their sex and age. He vexed Sir Gilbert by his degenerate habits of reading and talking of books, instead of sport- ing. He horror-struck both Mr. and Mrs. Buckle, by descanting on the necessity of reli- gious liberty, and expatiating on the iniquity of the Test and Corporation Acts, the Catholic Disabilities, &c. &c. ; and greatly annoyed his uncle by producing such feelings in the minds of his neighbours and guests. And was Herbert pleased with himself for having been so unpleasing to others, our readers will naturally inquire, and the question may be difficult to answer. But as we are always disposed to blame others rather than ourselves, he took care to attribute his present feelings towards those w^om he had once viewed with kindness and toleration, rather to a falling-ofF on their part, than to any increased THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 125 fastidiousness on his own. He rejoiced at their departure, and yet he was not happy. There was an absence of that self-com^acency which is tlie invariable concomitant on the exercise of benevolence, and which had formerly so often given him pleasure. He thought he had done his duty by the promulgation of enlightened and incontestable opinions ; but he did not derive the inward satisfaction usually produced by the performance of a duty. He felt depressed at finding so much ignorance and pretension in others, and forgot that untimely contradiction, and supercilious contempt, were not the best means of producing diffidence, or of imparting knowledge. When Mr. Lovaine and his nephew again found themselves tete-a-tete^ it was with no increased love or respect for each other. Mr. Lovaine was exceedingly surprised, and rather 126 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOX. angr}', that Herbert had not been amused when he had intended he should have been so — and Herbert was provoked at his uncle for hinting to him, more than once, that solely for his amusement he had invited people who could not possibly suit a man like him. Xor was the suggestion of Mrs. Buckle, as to the cause of the youth's alteration, without its effect on the temper of Mr. Lovaine ; who, goaded by continual contradictions, and con- stant annoyance at the change in Herbert's manners and habits, determined, one day, upon asking him an explanation of the reports which he imderstood were in circulation, respecting an attachment that he had formed to some vouno[ ladv, of whose name he was still ic;- norant. Herbert was much vexed at these interroga- tories, and not the less so from the tone in THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 127 which they were made— and rather moodily asked, to what his uncle alluded. " I have been informed," returned Mr. Lovaine, "that during the spring, in London, vou fixed your affections upon some foolish girl, who I suppose wants to be thought a blue stocking, and that all this sudden freak for improving yourself, as you call it, is in com- pliance with her wishes; but if she desired you, at the same time, to be always setting those right, who are old enough to be your father, I can tell both you and her, that she may rue the day when she first made a fool of you." There was in this reproof all that was most calculated to rouse the angry and rebellious spirit of Herbert. To suppose that he should lose his time in dangling after any girl, was some offence— but to suppose that be should 128 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. be capable of being led by a foolish girl, and that his love of learning and reform did not emanate from his own wisdom and patriotism, was quite unbearable, and he haughtily re- plied: — " Pardon me. Sir, but I am surprised that you should not know me better than to sup- pose I should allow myself to be under the rule and guidance of any woman, still less to be schooled by a foolish one ; but if an en- deavour to advance the cause of liberty and truth is displeasing to you, I am very sorry, inasmuch as it is the undoubted duty of every individual, to act as though he were a commu- nity; I should be wanting in my duty were I, by silence, to imply assent to those opinions from which I entirely dissent." " I by no means doubt the importance which you attach to your assent or dissent to THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 129 things of which you know nothing, but you have shirked replying to my question ; and I wish to know, whether or not I am to expect, that, without being previously consulted on the subject, I am to be informed, suddenly, that your election is made, or your marriage over, or your eldest son born, or that any other folly has happened." Herbert reddened with anger; but, luckily for him, he remembered that it did not become a philosopher to be too much in a passion : at least that was the reason he assigned to him- self, for not retorting more warmly; although those who knew him formerly, would have at- tributed such forbearance to his aifection for his uncle, and deference to his age. " Nothing," he replied, " could be less suited to my present views than matrimony, and I have, therefore, no wish or intention to g5 130 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION". marry ;" then availing himself of the silence which followed this declaration, he withdrew. Mr. Lovaine, who was too fully impressed with the idea that the change in Herbert had been wrought by a woman, to abandon that idea upon such a laconic explanation, mut- tered between his teeth, " I am glad, at least, that he don't want to marry the blue-stocking devil. I wonder what good ever came of edu- cating girls as if they were men — nothing now- a-days is thought of but education ! We shall soon have nobody to look after the domestic concerns — wdves won't take care of the house, or wait on their husbands — mothers won't take care of their children. No! no! he never shall have my consent to marry a learned lady." Thus broke up an interview in which each had displayed their foibles, and from which neither THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 131 had derived the slightest satisfaction, beyond that which Mr. Lovaine experienced at hearing that Herbert did not want to bring a pedantic niece down to Beechwood Park immediately. He still believed that some such person was the guilty cause of his nephew's alteration, but he rejoiced in the reprieve of not being obliged to take any positive step to avert such a cala- mity for a time. The evening was spent in gloomy silence ; — - both felt embarrassed by the recollection of what had passed in the morning, and each was afraid of compromising his dignity, by making the first advances to that sort of tacit recon- ciliation, which so often takes place between two people who have entered into an angry discussion, without the wish or intention of having a positive quarrel. Time, however, did that, which they found difficulty in doing 132 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. immediately for themselves, and to all appear- ance, they were on their usual friendly terms : but constant difference of opinion, openly avowed, and pertinaciously maintained, greatly diminished the mutual regret with which they had in former times looked forward to a sepa- ration ; and when Herbert returned to the counsels and instructions of Messrs. Benson and Co., Mr. Lovaine felt his loss rather as the absence of a living being, than that of an agreeable or useful companion. Soon after young Lovaine's arrival in Lon- don, he accidentally heard that the young lady whom his uncle so erroneously accused of having perverted his nephev*', but who was, in fact, the first and greatest sufferer by that perversion, had arrived in town nearly at the same moment as himself, and had departed with her family for the Continent the very THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 133 morning on which this intelligence reached his ear. We fear it is impossible to deny, that Her- bert was not quite so great a philosopher in practice as in theory, and his annoyance at the information was far greater than he would have liked to confess ; though he could not conceal from his own mind that he was an- noyed. " It is not," he said to himself, " that I intended to waste my time in following her about every where, but I should have been glad, if the opportunity had offered, to try the experiment of how far an intelligent woman has power to comprehend the enlarged views of enlightened men : but now that she is gone abroad, that is quite out of the question. I am sorry too not to see her, because, from her not understanding the motives of my conduct towards her, she perhaps does me injustice: 134 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION, and, little as I care for the opinion of any body, it is a pity, for her own sake, that she should be so bUnded by prejudice as to make her unjust." Had these thoughts been expressed aloud to some who pretend to know the world, they would probably have interpreted them into Herbert's feeling piqued and vexed, that one who interested him so much should liave jjone away with a bad impression of him, and that he had lost his opportunity of doing away with that impression. Certain it is that he was in very low spirits for some few days, and had it not been for the constant presence of his " Utilitarian " friends, who knows but that he might again have be- come a mere sentimentalist ! THE SCHOOL OP FASHION. 135 CHAPTER VII. Having resettled our hero in London, it is time we should return to Mrs. and Miss Lo- vaiiie, who, with the exception of six weeks spent at Naples, wintered at Rome. Mrs. Lovaine had acquired by fatal experi- ence a degree of prudence, that had nearly led her into the mistake of not visiting a Princess, over whose frailties death has now drawn the veil, bat at whose shrine it was the fashion for English ladies to forget those rules which they so strictly, perhaps almost severely, exercise towards a OTice erring sister at home; and to pay a homage due to some higher merit than i-ank, riches, or fashion. — Mrs. Lovaine lucki- 135 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. ]y discovered this in time not to commit so gross an error as to express to any one the least doubt as to herself and Elinor visiting the said Princess ; and when a prudish old Eng- lish acquaintance rather reproached her for so doing, she applied the old adage literally to herself, by answering, " Lorsqu'on est a Rome^ on fait ce qu on fait a Rome J* It had been Mrs. Lovaine's intention to have returned to England for the London spring — but Elinor was not seventeen till the end of June, and then London would be nearly over : — and after all, it was a pity to bring a girl out too soon. Perhaps, too, she had hardly reaped all the advantages that were to be ga- thered from her travels; and she was very sure that Mr. Lovaine would never consent to their going abroad again. Therefore, having duly considered all these weighty points, she signi- THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOX. 1^ fied to her husband her intention of remaining a short time longer on the Continent. To this Mr. Lovaine acceded the more readily, as it was accompanied by the ^surance, that if their leave of absence was then extended, it would prevent the necessity of another excur- sion abroad. When the time arrived of its being thought expedient to leave Rome on account of the "ma/-«na," Mrs. Lovaine determined on a tour in the north of Italy, (carefully, however, avoiding Florence,) and intended finishing her travels, and giving Elinor all the advantages of Parisian dress and "towrwwre," by a sejour at Paris ; but all her plans were altered by the unforeseen circumstance of Elinor being taken ill at Venice. Miss Lovaine was natumlly of rather a deli- cate frame; her growth had been rapid — and 138 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. the warm climate of Italy had caused for some time a degree of languor, which her over- anxious mother had construed into too great an indifference to improvement or admiration, — She had, therefore, taken all possible pains to overcome it, by constantly expressing a de- sire for greater progress than she . made with her masters, and by urging her more into so- ciety than was either necessary or agreeable to Elinor : — consequently when she was tired, and would have preferred resting, she dared not decline another partner, because she per- ceived that her mother was always best pleas- ed when she danced most; and she forced herself to rise in the morning, long ere she was rested from the fatigues of the preceding evening, lest she should appear backward in complying with her mother's wishes for the advancement of her education. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 139 Our readers must not, however, imagine that there was one particle of the essence of Mrs, Brownrigg in Mrs. Lovaine's composi- tion ; on the contrarj^ no mother could be more affectionate ; but she unfortunately mis- took her daughter's character, and thought it her duty to prevent her from doing herself injustice in the world, by too great an in- difference to the advantages that might be derived from its good opinion. This unlucky mistake respecting the disposi- tion of her child had nearly proved of serious, if noL of fatal consequences. The exertion of travelling, added to the fatigue and over- excitement which we have already mentioned, brought on such an attack of fever, as caused Mrs. Lovaine greater real unhappiness than she had perhaps ever before experienced in her life — though she was free from the additional 140 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. misery of thinking how accessary to the illness she had herself really been. Where " igno- rance is bhss," it is indeed great " folly to be ' wise." Mrs. Lovaine always meaned to do what was best for Elinor ; and the idea that she had not done what she had intended, never once crossed her mind. She watched over her daughter with an anxiety, which, if not more maternal, was certainly more agreeable to its object, than that with which she generally did watch her. The remedies which were applied were severe, but successful; and it was with heartfelt joy that Mrs. Lovaine was able to write to her husband, telling him that their beloved child was pronounced convalescent. It was some time before they could again venture to travel ; but when Miss Lovaine was sufficiently recovered to be able to move, it was THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 141 SO decidedly the opinion of Dr. Lucas (an En- glish physician, long established at Venice) that Spa would be of the greatest service towards completing the restoration of her health and strength, that Mr. Lovaine consented without a murmur to forego the pleasure of their socie- ty, for as much further time as could be deem- ed necessary to effect so desirable an object. It did certainly occur to him, that Tunbridge, or Bath, or Buxton, or Leamington, or Chel- tenham, or even Islington, w^ould be better for her than Spa ; but as it was the advice of an English physician, he did not impart this con- trary opinion to any one. So great, indeed, was his paternal love, that it was much be- lieved by his neighbours, that had he not re- ceived an improved account at the moment that he did so, he would have sufficiently over- 142 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. come his prejudices to set out for Venice im- mediately. By easy journies Mrs. and Miss Lovaine arrived, via the Tyrol, at Munich ; from thence they proceeded to Frankfort, where they again halted a short time for Elinor to repose ; at Coblentz they were to cross the Rhine, and arrived there towards the close of the da}-. Elinor, being now nearly recovered, (saving a slight diminution of beauty, from the loss of colour,) accompanied her mother to the Fort of Ehrenbreitstein, that she might see the sun shedding its last refulgent rays on the junction of the Moselle with the Rhine : it was a beau- teous sight, and one to which Elinor was not insensible: for though she was destitute of either taste or talent to appreciate or execute works of art, she was of too pious, too contemplative THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 143 a disposition, to be insensible to those of na- ture ; and while she could behold, with the cold indifference of tasteless ignorance, the clief-d^ (Rwcre of man, tears of pleasure and gra- titude would often start into her eyes, when she viewed the works of that Being, in " whose hand are all the corners of the earth," and in whom " is the strength of the hills." They arrived at Spa in due time, without one romantic adventure; and if we have ab- stained from describing every fine view between Venice and Spa, it has been solety from the impression that, to do justice to those beauties, which we would fain describe, requires the pen of more ready and more able writers than our- selves ; and that the wonders of art and nature run less risk of beinoj under-valued, bv leaving them to the imagination of some, and the (per- haps imperfect) recollection of others, than by 144 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. assuring our readers, over and over again, that the view from every height was panoramic — that every vale was sequestered — that every town was picturesque — that every lake was serene — every mountain towering — every water-fall rushing, with unheard-of violence, down never-ending precipices — every field ver- dant — every stream purling — and that every peasant was carolling a national song. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 145 CHAPTER VIII. Those who have heard much of the beauties of Spa, and whose expectations, therefore, have been much raised, cannot fail to be disap- pointed on their first arrival. Its real beauties are to be found in the environs; or, as our friend, Lord Blaney, would say, " Spa is de- lightful when you are out of it." But what natmvilly much enhances the charms of its sur- rounding scenery, and gives, even to the village itself, an ideal beauty, is, that no place affords pleasanter means for the enjoyment of society, or gives greater facilities for carrying on a little innocent flirtation. At the time of Mrs. Lovaine*s arrival, the VOL. I. H 1^6 TttE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Spa season had commenced, and when they had estabhshed themselves in their hotel, and were beginning to wish for society, they fortu- nately met with one or two families whom they had known elsewhere on the Continent ; be- sides the Count Povolowski, a Polish noble- man, who had been very popular in Rome during the preceding winter, and whose ad- miration of Elinor had been sufficient to create feelings of jealousy on the part of some of the " elega/Ues,'^ a circumstance which much en- hanced the value of his attentions in the eyes of Mrs. Lovaine, and had induced her to en- courage them) more than would have been deemed prudent by that true John Bull, Mr. Lovaine. Wheii Elinor was well enough to dance, and her mother had ascertfiined it was the right thing to do, they made their appearance Ttee^ SCHOOL e^ l^ASHldN. NT alt one of the weekiy balls held at the Redoute. They had not Icwig be^ft in the room before Elinor's attention was attracted by the beauty of a youBg lady*, wiw sat so nearly opposit-e to her that she could, without rudeness, observe her countenance and manner. She was talking and listening with eagerness to a middle-aged man, who was sitting by her side^ but whose appearance and manner forebade the idea that there existed between them any greater topic of interest than that of an argument, on no very grave or important subject?, or the recital of some amusing anecdote. Her complexion was blooming with youth and health ; her hair brown, but not of quite so dark a hue as her eye-brows and eye-liashes, which aftbrded a shade, and gave a character to her countenance, that could not pass un- observed ; her features were rather small, and h2 148 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. not perfectly regular, but there was an anima- tion and a joyousness in their expression, tempered with softness and modesty, that pro- duced in the tout-ensemble^ an indescribable charm. Her figure was round and beautifully formed ; her stature was in neither way remark- able; and when she moved, it was with an air of dignity and grace, combined with perfect ease and activity, that gave a just idea of her refinement and cheerfulness. When she quitted the gentleman with whom she was conversing upon Elinor's entrance, it was to dance with the Count Povolowski. There was nothing in her dancing that shewed how diligently she had worked with the danc- ing-master. No hattements performed under the folds of an ample garniture, and known only to exist by the trembling of the agitated gown. No jumping to shew her activity, or THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 149 Strange attitudes to display her grace ; it was not a feat that took your admiration by storm, but of which you rather felt the superiority by the comparison with other performers in the same exercise. The dance over, she returned to the chape^ roimge of a lady who, from her age and slight resemblance to the young lady in question, ap- peared to be her mother. Never had Elinor been more captivated by the air of any young person, and her first question to the Count Povolowski, after accepting his hand for the next dance, was, the name of the girl with whom she had been so fascinated. " Mais comment ! vous ne connoissez pas son nom, etcependant elle est Anglaise /" replied the Count, who thought it very extraordinary she should not know a compatriote. " Mais c*est i50 THS SCHOOL OF FASHION. Mademoiselle de Clifford ; elk est pttillante d'e9^ prit d, belle comme un ange ! elie est rempHe de talens aiLssi a ce quHon dit'^ But, notwithstanding his great admiration of his late partner, as the Count had not forgotten his penchaTit for Miss Lovaine, he took care to say as inany flattering riens as possible to her, lest she should be jealous of his praise of Miss De Clifford, a feeling which, to do Elinor justice, she was as incapable of entertaining towards any one, as she was unconscious of ever exciting in others. The ball was not more than half over, when a young man of about twenty-five years of age desired a common acquaintance to introduce him to Mrs. Lovaine. The introduction was instantly forwarded by the mother to the daughter, and " Elinor, my dear, Eord Golds- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 151 borough/* with the pi'oper accompaniment of bow and curtsey, were performed without loss of time. Lord Goldsborough was the eldest son and heir-apparent to the Earl of Reading. He had been, from the moment of his birth, impressed by his parents with a sense of his own import- ance. He was sent to Eton for two reasons that are usually given for the preference of that col- lege above all other seminaries of learning ; first, because the youth's father had been there before him ; and secondly, because, if he learnt nothing else, he would at least there learn to be " a gentleman." For precisely the same rea- sons he finished his education at Christ Church, Oxford. That many men who are thus educated are what is called " very gentlemanlike," we are most willing to allow ; but, that it is the na- 152 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOK. tural consequence of being an Etonian, or a Christ-Church man, we are far less willing to admit ; for when we consider how large a pro- portion of the students, at either place, do in no respect answer to the title of a gentleman, we are a little inclined to doubt their infalli- bility in causing so good an effect. Lord Goldsborough travelled on the Conti- nent for a whole year after leaving college, and was considered by his family and himself, on his return home, as polished a young noble- man as could be found in the rising generation of the English aristocracy. Although he had uniformly made less progress in knowledge than his younger brothers, and was (as truth compels us to own) exceedingly backward in his book-learning, yet Lady Reading had al- ways been so fully impressed with the idea that " Goldsborough was not to live by his wits," THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 153 tbat his ignorance (had she discovered it) would have been no more a source of annoyance to her than to her daughters, who, when pitying the lot of " poor Bob and Charles," because they were obliged to do something, never failed to comment upon the superior good fortune of Goldsborough who did nothing. Perhaps, amongst the numerous fallacies that Herbert Lovaine discovered in popular opi- nions, there is none that has struck us as more glaring, or less defensible, than the idea that a man who is born to be a legislator for his country, and who is also, by the inheritance of riches, the inheritor of some power, requires less cultivation and instruction than one whose duties lie in the more limited sphere of what is called " a profession." The whole classifi- cation of society is founded on expediency, and those who willingly pay dearly to be well h5 IM THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOIC. governed, hare a right to expect i» return the best endeavours of their goveraors to perform their part of the compact. Indeed, we have always been surprised that those who are deaf to the calls of duty, should also be so blind to their own interest as not to perceive, that in- asmuch as knowledge gives command, they stand a fair chance of losing that superiority (to which they perhaps vainly think they have an inherent right) by ignorance, and negli- gence of the talent committed to their care. " To whom much is given, of him much wnll be required," is a truth which cannot be too early, or too strongly impressed, on the mind of every Lord Goldsborough, lest he should flatter himself, that to whom much is given, to him more must necessarily be added, and from him less be necessarily expected. But we must return to the JRedoute. Lord THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 155 Goldsborough naturally asked Miss Lovaine to dance : but as he was engaged for the qua- drille which was just beginning, he hoped to have the honour of being her partner for the next. Elinor had, however, unluckily ac- cepted a second engagement with the Count Povolowski, and therefore was under the neces- sity of declining. Lord Goldsborousfh exer- cised his dancing powers with Miss De Cliiford, who chanced to be disengaged. " My dear Elinor," whispered Mrs. Lovaine when Lord Goldsborough left them, I thought you* had already danced with Monsieur Povo- lowski this evening." " Yes, Mamma, but only once; and you know at Rome I often danced three times with him." " I think once a night is quite sufficient," returned Mrs. Lovaine. 156 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Poor Elinor was a little perplexed to make out the reason of her mother being displeased at her having accepted the Count for the se- cond time, now she was at Spa, when she had never raised the slightest objection, at Rome, to his being her cavalier two, or even three times, in the course of the evening. The following morninoj it was settled that Elinor, chaperoned by the lady who had, on the preceding evening, presented Lord Golds- borough to her mother, should belong to a riding party; and accordingly at two o'clock Lady Melrose called for Miss Lovaine, and they forthwith joined, at the place of rendez- vous, a troop of equestrians, who still, how- ever, waited for the arrival of some other absentee. Elinor at last discovered, at a little distance, a lady and three gentlemen on horse- back, hastening towards them ; and in a few THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 157 seconds she found they were joined by Lord Goldsborough, Miss De Clifford, the gentle- man to whom Elinor had observed her talking when she first entered the ball-room, and a tall young man, w^ho too much resembled Miss De Clifford, to leave any doubt as to its being a brother, to whose protection she was com- mitted. " INIy dear Miss De Clifford, we had almost given you up," said Lady Melrose, who was the female commander-in-chief for the day, " but nobody seemed inclined to sally forth without you, so I was obliged, you see, to be civil also." " I beg you ten thousand pardons," replied Miss De Clifford, " for though I am not quite so credulous, as to suppose that my arrival was of consequence to any but such a kind chaperon as yourself, dear Lady Melrose, yet I am 158 TWE SCHOOL OF FASHION'. shocked, indeed, at having kept you so long ;" and, as she finished this sentence, she gave her brother a glance, to see if she might say more. ** Well, Emily, I suppose you want me to tell the truth, so I had better confess at once that I am the guilty person. I was bent upon ridinor with vou all to-dav, and could not a^et a horse at the hour I ordered it, and that was the cause of our being so late." " Don't you think it would be more to the pui'pose if we v;ere to gallop for the first two miles, to make up for lost time, than stand here trying to cure what we can only endure ?" said Mr. Mordaunt, for such was the name of the middle-aged gentleman who accompanied Emily De Clifford ; and though, aufatid^ a very good-natured, kind-hearted man, was some- times apt to be a little test}', and whose pecu- liar countenance and manner often gave an THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 159 appearance of sourness, which was far from be- longing tx) his disposition. He would rail at things, in general, with the bitterness of a cynic or misanthropist, but was, in reality, less addicted than most people to be severe on in- dividuals. He never indulged in the propaga- tion of gossip ; and if he did sometimes com- ment on the failings of others, there was generally that sort of good-nature in his ill- nature, that, though he amused by his censure, he never gave an unjust, and very seldom an unfavourable, impression of its object. Mr." Mordaunt was verj^ fond of Emily De Clifford, with whom he had been acquainted for some time, because, in addition to many other charms, she added that of shewing great plea- sure in his society. She was not a coquette, and never cared for, or tried to inspire, feel- ings which she could not return. She had a 160 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. good opinion of Mr. Mordaunt's character, and she was entertained by his cleverness; he had not, therefore, the mortification of seeing every dandy preferred to himself, merely be- cause he was a young coxcomb who might be in love with her. The riding party had not proceeded far, when Lady Melrose informed Elinor that Mr. Wil- liam De CUfFord was anxious to make her ac- quaintance ; and soon after, when the narrow- ness of the road obliged the equestrians to go only two and two abreast (a circumstance, by- the-bye, which occurs so often in the neigh- bourhood of Spa, that, at a little distance, one might suppose Noah and his family were again processing into the ark,) Elinor and her new acquaintance found themselves riding cheek-by- jowl. " Did you enjoy the ball last night ?" in- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 161 quired Mr. De Clifford, " my sister told me you were there." Miss Lovaine had been so much delighted with Miss De Clifford's appearance, that she felt pleased at the idea of not having passed unobserved by her in return. " Miss De Clifford is then your sister ? I asked who she was the moment I came into the room : but how did she know my name ?" " I understood by inquiring of one, who said much more concerning you than your name." " Whom do you mean ?" replied Elinor slightly blushing at finding she had been a topic of conversation. " Count Povolowski." The recollection of Mrs. Lovaine's observa- tion upon the Count's attentions flashed across her mind upon hearing this, and she blushed again. Mr. De Clifford perceived her em- 162 TKE SCHOOL OF FASHION. ta'mssment, and, instantly remembering- the slightness of their acquaintance, he felt he had no right to touch upon any subject which might, by possibility, be of a delicate nature : therefore turning the conversation immediately, he said, " My sister is so anxious to know you, that I hope you will have no objection to my inti'oducing her to you in the course of our ride." Elinor acquiesced with the pleasure she really felt, and when they quitted the narrow pass, so favourable to tite-d-t^tes^ the ceremony of introduction was perfoiTned ; and never had Elinor been better pleased than during the two miles she rode in company with Mr. and Miss De Oiffoiti, At the end of that time. Lord Goldsborough joined them, and the convei^ation took a dif- ferent,^ but we doubt if a more agreeable turn. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 163 Lord Goidsborough hoped the young ladies did not find the sun too hot : and though the horses constantly stopped, without consulting the convenience of theii' riders, to get rid of the flies, he hoped the insects were not trou- blesome ; and he trusted that Lady Harriet De Clifford and Mrs. Lovaine were not tired -with the exertions of the preceding evening ; and he hoped — and supposed — and trusted — many other very uninteresting little facts; and felt pleased v/ith himself, when he reached his home, at the thoughts of how well-bred and agreeable he had been. In a short time an opportunity occurred for making Mrs. Lm*aine and Lady Harriet ac- quainted ; and Elinor accompanied her mother to the De Clifiord's hotel, for the purpose of making a morniner visit. 164 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Lady Harriet De Clifford was about five- and-forty years of age ; her manners and coun- tenance were soft and winning, though not without the languor usually attendant on ill health, for she had, for many years, been more or less of an invalid. She was accustomed to bodily suffering, but the devoted attentions of her husband and children afforded her such mental happiness, that though she was often far from sanguine as to her recovery, she com- plained but little. She had had a very large family, five of whom were alive, and the rest had died young. When Mrs. Lovaine and her daughter were announced, Lady Harriet was alone, and she rose to receive them with a manner that could not fail to please by its affability and absence of all pretension to patronize. In a short time THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 165 Mrs. Lovaine inquired if Miss De ClifFord was at home? as Elinor had been in hopes of finding her. " She is in the next room, I believe, with the children ; and will, I am sure, be most happy to see Miss Lovaine, if she will either take the trouble of calling her, or paying her a visit in her owii little hole." The latter proposition was joyfully accepted, and Elinor knocked at the door of the room, which was only separated from that she had left by a landing-place, with those mixed feel- ings -of pleasure and annoj'ance, which are always consequent upon the doubt of being able to impart as much pleasure as you are certain of receiving. In other words, whether your visit may be perfectly acceptable, or con- sidered rather intrusive. The slow and incorrect pei-formance on the 166 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOK. piano-forte, of '^ Ah ! vous dirai-je, Mamaii," prevented Emily from hearing the prudent little knock of her new acquaintance, and Elinor was obliged to make her entry un- announced. Miss De Clifford was seated by the side of a child eight or nine years old, with a pencil in her hand, and apparently in the act of giving her a lesson in music. In the corner of the room was a little boy, of about six years of age, sitting on a footstool, learning v/ith the utmost diligence how to spell all the hard words he was sure not to encounter, or want, till he had come to man's estate ! " I fear I shall interrupt you," said Miss Lovaine. '' Oh ! by no means, I assure you. Neither Mary or I mind a little repose from our deep studies: do we, my darling?" she said, pat- THE SCKOOX OF FASHION. 167 ting her little sister's cheek, and giving her a kiss. Miss De Clifford was not, however, inter- rupted for any great length of time, as Elinor was soon summoned to accompany her mother, to pay other and less agreeable visits. She had, however, during her visit to Emily, been both charmed and amused; for though she never originated fun herself, she had great en- joyment of it in others ; and Miss De Ciiiford had such a fund of humour, and such a flow of spirits, that she seldom failed to entertain, as well-as captivate, all who knew her. 168 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. CHAPTER IX. The following day another riding party was proposed by Lady Melrose, and joyfully ac- cepted by Elinor. The addition to their former party consisted of Count Povolowski and Mr. Gordon, the only son of Lord and Lady Melrose. The day was sultry, and they se- lected a ride which, though woody, was un- fortunately not shady, inasmuch as the wood was principally underwood, and there was scarcely a tree that reached so high as the equestrians' heads ; a circumstance which drew forth from Mr. Mordaunt (who had a par- ticular antipathy to personal discomfort) such observations as, " This, I believe, Miss De THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 169 Clifford, is considered happiness, is it not? Just trees enough to remind us how pleasant it would be to have two yards of shade, instead of being baked to death by the sun ! But it is all for pleasure, so of course nothing signi- fies !" Emily could hardly help smiling at the tone of bitter enthusiasm with which he said this : she tried to console him by saying, she believed they would be less exposed to the heat when they took the right-hand path, " Yes," he replied, " that is the nearest way home, I believe ; and when we reach Spa, I make no doubt our expedition will receive the usual stamp of all parties of pleasure." " What do you mean ?" " The grateful exclamation of each of its members — ' Thank God, it's over!'" Emily, however, well knew Mr. Mordaunt's VOL. I. I J 70 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. ways, and soon succeeded in softening his anger at this trifling inconvenience. Mr. WilKam De Chfford had joined Elinor when they first set out ; and both appearing to be well amused, Count Povolowski thought it would be all the pleasanter, for all parties, if he joined them. The conversation did not, however, appear to flourish better in conse- quence of the addition of another talker. Mr. De Clifford had no doubt of the feelings en- tertained by the Count towards Miss Lovaine ; and the recollection of her blushes, when he told her of the strain in which he had spoken of her to his sister, made him suspect the pos- sibility of Count Povolowski's penchant being so far returned, as to make the society of a third person rather a gine than an agrement ; he therefore became gradually more silent, and soon took advantage of the first nar- tHE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 171 row lane, to drop behind and join Lady Mel- rose. The tite-a-tete was, however, soon inter- rupted by Lord Goldsborough, who, after his usual inquiries respecting the health of Elinor, and the degree of benefit which she derived from the Spa waters, addressed her in French, that the Count might have the benefit also of hearing all he had to say. The Count, how- ever, was much better pleased not to have him at all: for though, as we before mentioned, he had often excited jealousy in others, he was far from being free himself from unpleasant sensations of the same kind, and he was apt to fancy rivalry when no competition was in- tended. Lord Goldsborough had been abroad before, it is true, but he was rather infirm in his French ; therefore, finding the Count un- wiUing to profit by his good breeding, he i2 1T2 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION". began to feel awkward, though he was con- fident he never appeared so. Elinor talked a little in French, and a little in English ; conscious that they were all un- usually dull, and that something did not go right, though she did not perceive the reason w^hy something went wrong. Lord Goldsbo- rough, however, soon satisfied himself that Miss Lovaine was not quite well, and that the presence of the Count obliged him to talk French, and that therefore it would be more agreeable to join Miss De Clifford; and thus were Elinor and the Count again left, hon gre inalgre^ to amuse each other. Elinor had known her companion longer than any other person there, and had been so much accustomed to hear Mrs. Lovaine des- cant upon his powers of conversation, that though she was entirely free from such feelings THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 173 towards him as Mr. De Clifford was disposed to impute to her, she never objected to his society. Upon her return home, Elinor was naturally questioned by her mother concerning her ride : a circumstance by no means disliked or dread- ed by Elinor, who was always open as the day, when she was asked to be so ; but who, from timidity of character, would never have had courage to talk of herself, or mention who had talked to her, unasked. The route having been described, and the company named, Mrs. Lovaine inquired, " And who rode with you, my love ?" " Oh, Mamma ! different people ; sometimes we all rode together, and sometimes in threes and twos. Mr. De Clifford and Lord Goldsbo- rough, and our old ally Count Povolowski were the oftenest my riding partners." "Lord Goldsborough is a very superior 174- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. young man ! I dare say you found him veiy agreeable ?" '^ Elinor hesitated for a moment, wondering that she had not found out his charms. " He seems very good-natured, Mamma," was therefore her equivocal reply. « And how do you like Mr. De Clifford ?" continued Mrs. Lovaine. " Oh ! so very much," Elinor said, with unwonted warmth : " I am sure he is such a good person— he seems so fond of his family; and he is going into the church, by his own choice." Mrs. Lovaine, like all good mothers, natu- rally thought much of her daughter's matri- monial prospects; and though she felt con- fident that, by giving her every advantage that Europe coidd furnish, she must secure her ultimately making a good match ; yet, of THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 175 course, the sooner so desirable an end was accomplished the better. Lord Goldsborough appeared to her to be unexceptionable as a son- in-law ; for although she scarcely knew him, yet experience has shewn the unbounded power of rank and fashion over the discernment of Mrs. Lovaine. William De Cliiford could only lay claim to half the advantages of Lord Goldsborough — he was a second brother, — without rank ; and she had just Jearnt from Eli- nor, that he intended to be a clergyman. Now though she had a great respect for the cloth, yet to have spent so much time, and labour, and money, upon her daughter, to have her buried in the country — a parson's wife, scarcely suited her views better, than for her to become the wife of an accomplished, but poorish Polish officer, who, though extremely popular on the Continent, would be nobody in England : — 176 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. consequently, Mrs. Lovaine determined in her own mind, to take all possible care that Elinor should not waste too much of her time and ta» lents upon those she did not wish her to take for better for worse ; though, as she would have been equally sorry for Elinor unnecessa- rily to affront any young man of fashion, she determined to let things take their own course for a little while, and only to interfere when it was absolutely necessary. It is the custom at Spa, to meet in the even- ing at each other's houses, for the nominal pur- pose of drinking tea, — for the real one of enjoy- ing society ; and the Lovaines were to go to a soiree of this description at Lady Melrose's, a few evenings after all these wise reflections and resolutions had been made by Mrs. Lovaine. The De Cliffords and many other people were there, and music was proposed. Emily THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. ITT De Clifford was asked to sing with Mr. Gor- don ; they had often sang together before, and there was therefore no difficulty in selecting a duet. Lady Harriet had always impressed her daughter with the necessity of never making a fuss, inasmuch as no amateur performance could ever compensate for the trouble of intreating, and begging, and praying. Emily, therefore, complied upon this, as upon all other occa- sions, when she saw that her compliance was desired or expected. Her voice possessed great richness, power, and flexibility, and she had had both taste and talent to profit by the good instruction she had received. Mr. Gordon also sang with feeling, for he sang with Emily, and though till lately he had never much cultivated his vocal powers, he had such a good voice, and such a correct ear, i5 1T8 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. that the performance of this duet gave uni- versal pleasure. " Does your daughter sing ?" inquired Lady Melrose of Mrs. Lovaine as soon as it was over. " Yes ; and I assure you, though I know I ought not to say so, she has a sweet voice, and Manielli took such pains with her !'* Whilst this dialogue was passing at one end of the room, Emily De Clifford was press- ing poor Elinor to sing at the other; but though Elinor did not know how much, or • why, or in what way she failed, she still was conscious tl.at her performance in that line was not sufficiently successful to please any body, and therefore modestly declined. But Lady Melrose having requested to hear her, she was left no further choice; for Mrs. Lo- vaine desired her to comply. She was naturally THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 179 shy, and the feehng that all eyes were turned upon her, did not tend to diminish her em- barrassment, at finding herself obliged to prove to her auditors how right she had been in de- clining to favour them with a song. We have before mentioned Elinor's defi- ciency of musical talent, and it is needless to add, that fear did not assist it. When she had finished, every one wished to say something flattering, and yet, in common honesty, no- body could praise what they did not admire. A moment's silence ensued after the last chord had been struck, and then Lady Melrose had recourse to the usual subterfuges on such oc- casions, by saying, " What a pretty thing that is, Miss Lovaine! whose music is it?" And another person asked v/hether she had learnt of , at Rome, and advised her to have Signor Seappa, when she went to Eng- 180 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. land : a third remarked, that she had a high voice; and a fourth, that she had good low notes : in short, most of the company contrived to notice her performance, without committing themselves to say that which was not true. Emily De Clifford was too much accustomed to being praised herself, not to know full well the value of those remarks ; she therefore did not bestow them upon Elinor, whose gentle unaffected manners and pretty countenance had won her heart, but she asked her whether she would sometimes come to her in the morn- ing, that they might practise together ; for she thought that by making her attempt easier songs, or by singing with her, she would be enabled to appear to greater advantage. In- deed, so entirely was Emily above all wish for petty triumphs, that she would often sacri- fice herself by taking parts, or doing things in THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 181 which she knew she did not excel, sooner than suffer others to miss an opportunity of doing themselves justice. Elinor thankfully accepted the oifer, and immediately after. Lord Goldsborough was an- nounced. His Lordship was extremely proud of his musical talents, and, as Mr. Mordaunt once said, " was always obliging and ready to sing whenever he was asked, and sometimes before he was asked." He proposed singing a duet with Emily, who excused herself as Lady Harriet was tired, and she was instantly going home. He then suggested the same honour to Miss Lovaine: but she declined, not knowing any of those he mentioned. Mrs. Lovaine assured Elinor in vain that she knew them all ; but she was more easily silenced than usual, by Lord Goldsborough offering with the greatest politeness to wait upon them, whenever it was 182 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. convenient to the ladies, for the purpose of trying a little music. Mrs. Lovaine assured his Lordship with one of her sweetest smiles, that he had only to name the hour and day when he would be kind enough to call, and that Elinor should be ready for him. Elinor was standing by her mother when she thus promised her daughter should be at the beck and call of Lord Goldsborough; and, little as sh e was in the habit of questioning the pro- priety of any thing that Mrs. Lovaine said or did, her instinctive dignity revolted at the tone and manner in which Lord Goldsborough had been given to understand that they were both his most obedient humble servants. She dared not shew her disapproval; but, not liking to make herself a party to any such engagement, she withdrew a few steps in silence, leaving her THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. I S3 mother and Lord Goldsborough in doubt as to whether she was even listening to what passed. Her glowing cheeks, however, left no such doubc on the mind of William De Clifford, who both observed and appreciated her quiet but dignified manner. Mrs. Lovaine was delighted at the prospect of the heir-apparent 's intended visits, and secretly flattered herself that the time would not be far distant when she might see her daughter splendidly settled, and have the ad- ditional satisfaction of thus proving to Mr. Lovaine the advantages of travelKng. Poor Lord Goldsborough ! Little did he think to what hopes and plans his proposed practice of duets had given rise: and how many miles from Spa would he have travelled that very night had he known them ! For to his Lordship's conviction that he was, what 184 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. is vulgarly called, " a great catch," he very modestly joined the fear that he might be caught. So doubtful, indeed, did he feel of his own discernment in such matters, that he was known in more instances than one, to have earnestly requested two or three of his intimate friends to warn him of his danger, the moment they perceived any one making, as he called it, " a set at him ;" and in more in- stances than one, it is supposed that his trea- cherous friends availed themselves of this re- quest, as a means to rid themselves of his presence, when they either had, or imagined they had, cause to dread him as a rival. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 185 CHAPTER X. We mentioned in our last chapter that Mr. Gordon sang with feeling, because he sang with Emily ; by which we meant to give our readers a suspicion, that the sentiments she had awakened in him were more than those of com- mon friendship, for such was the case, though it was some time (even after it had been re- marked by two or three of her friends) ere Emily ceased to deny their existence. His attentions now, however, became too marked for the most sceptical to doubt their source; and Lady Harriet began to think it was time to speak seriously to her daughter upon the subject. 186 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Lady Harriet was, like Mrs. Lovaine, anxi- ous that her daughter should marry ; but, un- like Mrs. Lovaine, she was not blinded by rank and fortune, and was far from persuading her- self, or attempting to persuade Emily, that every man possessed of those advantages must, of necessity, also enjoy every moral and intel- lectual quality. But the state of her health often made her apprehensive that her life might not be spared for many years longer ; and she felt that if Emily was but established happily, she could die in peace and comfort, so far as concerned her fate, and that of the two younger children : for she was sure that the disadvantages arising from the loss of a mother would be comparatively small, were Emily in a situation to be of service and protection to them. Lady Harriet also thought that Emily was too much disposed to indulge hfer imagina- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 187 tion in creating a heau ideal, by the standard of which she measured the various admirers that her youth, beauty, and charms naturally gave her; and by this means would, perhaps, lose opportunities, never to be regained, of laying up a store of future happiness. Often and often would she argue with her daughter upon the expedience of moderating her ideas of the quantum of affection, without which it was against her principles ever to marry. Lady Harriet's own marriage had been ra- ther one of convenience than of inclination ; but from the fortunate circumstance of Mr. De Clifford and herself being extremely well suited to each other, their mutual attachment had much increased after their union. Lady Har- riet, like many others, was, perhaps, a little too prone to found general principles upon parti- cular instances; and she could not persuade 188 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. herself that feelings, which had cost her no effort to entertain, were not so entirely matters of course, as to be certain of being equally felt by all others placed under similar circum- stances; consequently, she repeatedly assured her daughter, that her ideas were too high- flown, and that, although she would rather die than see her married to a person that she did not like, she was quite confident that any man, for whom she felt no positive dislike, and of whose character she had a good opinion, was more likely to make her happy, than one for whom she fancied a romantic passion. And then all the instances of the failures of love marriages, the happiness of her own, and that of two other of her intimate friends, were ad- duced to prove the truth of her assertion. t There was nothing which Emily more secretly dreaded than the advances of a man, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 189 unexceptionable in every respect, but who had not the power of inspiring her with any warmer feehng than that of esteem or friend- ship — and such a man was Mr. Gordon. He was about thirty years of age ; by no means handsome, though not absolutely plain ; he had a good deal of talent for music, and was not with- out taste for the fine arts in general ; his tem- per was good, and he was generally considered a very respectable man : he was, however, far from being agreeable in conversation, though he was possessed of a tolerable degree of in- formation on many subjects. Emily was, as we have before mentioned, all life and spirits : but Mr. Gordon never under- stood or saw the fun of a joke; he was so in- tolerably " matter of fact" upon all occasions, that often, when Mr. Mordaunt amused every one else by some sally of affected bitterness 190 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. upon la pluie et le beau temps^ Mr. Gordon would as gravely begin to argue the point with him, as though it were possible Mr. Mordaunt could for one moment have been in earnest. Emily also perceived that Mr. Gordon, at times, betrayed a degree of family pride, and a want of liberality on all subjects, that by no means rendered him more pleasing to her. Yet these feelings never appeared in a glaring manner; they were sufficiently obvious to leave a general impression of their existence on the mind of Miss De Clifford, though they were too trifling to produce a similar effect on that of Lady Harriet, when repeated to her ; but how often may a look, a word uttered, or a word withheld, stamp an impression on the minds of those present, which cannot be con- veyed by description or by repetition. Mr. Gordon had, by Emily's own confession, THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 191 scarcely left her side during one long ride; a circumstance which, not unnaturally, gave rise to one of the many amicable arguments to which we have alluded, between mother and daughter. " Why, dearest, should you wish to avoid Mr. Gordon's society ?" said Lady Harriet, in answer to Emily's lamenting his having spent so much time with her. " Because, Mamma, every body remarks it, and I hate to be talked about. Besides, as you all say he has a preference for me, it would be very wrong if I were to let him suppose it was reciprocal." " And why should it not be reciprocal, my love?" " That is impossible, you know. Mamma." " I know that you are a very foolish girl ; and I believe that you liked Mr. Gordon very 198 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION* much, till you saw that he wished you to like him more." " But surely, dear Mamma, you will not deny that it is very possible to like a man as an acquaintance, or even as a friend, without wishing to marry him." " Ah ! my dear child, I fear you will live to repent this romantic fastidiousness. Now, tell me honestly, what is there in Mr. Gordon to which you object?" " I do not feel that I care for him — I like to be with my old friend, Mr. Mordaunt, and many other people, much better." " I do not deny that Mr. Mordaunt is very agreeable : perhaps more so, in society, than Mr. Gordon; but it is not always those who are most brilliant in company that shine best at home." " That is very true. Mamma ; and you know THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 193 that my beau ideal^ with which you so often quarrel, consists in possessing superior abilities, but not in devoting both them and himself to mere clever detail of amusing gossip." " Do you, then, object to Mr. Gordon's appearance ? for though he is not handsome, I have often heard you sav, that vou thought he looked like a gentleman." " Yes, Mamma, I do thinTc so ; and I do not wish to marry a beauty man. I do not think Mr. Gordon's looks are at all against him, but 1 have heard, and indeed have sometimes fancied that I could perceive myself, that he w^as a little disposed to be stingy ; and though I respect economy, yet a particle of meanness, or even a want of generosity, is what I could not endure in one whom I wished to love and respect." " My dear, you can have had but very few VOL. I. K 194 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOI^, Opportunities of judging yourself upon tlii* point ; and I am much inclined to believe it is only said, because he is not so shamefully extravagant as most other young men are. I am sure he enters into all your pursuits : he is fond of music ; and he takes great delight in your drawings, though he does not draw him- self.'^ " So he does, Mamma — but — but — " " But what, my dear?" " Why, to be honest, I feel it would be very wrong to profess to like a person in whom I have so little real interest, that were I never to see him again, I am sure it would not cost me five minutes' regret." " Dear Emily, you know I would rather die than urge you to do any thing you did not like ; nor do I wish you to marry merely for establishment: for instance, I would hardly THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 195 consent to your throwing yourself away upon such a person as Lord Goldsborough, whom I am sure you could not like, and who is in- capable of appreciating you. But surely, my love, it is not wise to set your mind against a person, merely because he does not entirely fulfil ideas of perfection, which are not to be found in real life." " Indeed, Mamma, I do not think my wishes so very extravagant; and even if they cannot be realized, I shall be very contented at home, with all of you. Why should I exchange certain, for uncertain happiness ? I think Mr. Gordon very dull, and he seems to have no wish to distinguish himself." " I assure you, my dear, the more ambitious a man is the less he cares for his wife : and after all, if your husband has good sense, that K 2 196 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. is quite enough for tlie common purposes of life, without his being first minister." '• He is not only much older than I am, but he is so grave : I know not whether he ever understands a joke, but I am sure I never saw him smile at one in my life." '•' Why, ten years is generally, and very properly, considered the right difference be- tween a man and a woman ; and as you are twenty-one, far from being too old, he is, in fact, too young for you by a whole year. But, Emily, listen to me, and think well, my dear child, of what I say : here is a man, against whose character, temper, appearance, and family, you have nothing to allege — you like his mother — his fortune is already good, and will be very great at his father's death. He is evidently warmly attached to you ; most THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 197 of your pursuits are already his, and the rest would soon become so. I grant he is neither a poet nor a statesman, but where do you find such qualities as his united in such characters? Perfection is not to be found in man or woman ; and the phoenix is not a more vara avis than a man who possesses the junction of such superior talents as you require, with every mild domestic virtue. The only moral defect you have mentioned, is one of vdiich you cannot be certain ; and at present, I own, I am rather disposed to give him credit for his courage in resisting the temptations of extra- vagance, than to blame him for his prudence : and yet you would reject the offer of such a man (should it be made), only because you do not think yourself sufficiently devoted to him ! Depend upon it, if you have no dislike to him 198 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. when you accept him, you will find the love come very speedily afterwards." Emily looked grave, and thought it never would. " I will not press the subject upon you further, my love, because I wish you always to consult your own feelings entirely on these subjects ; but I thought it right to point out to you all the advantages which would arise from such a marriage.'* Emily kissed her mother affectionately, and retired to bed — but with a heavier heart than she had done for some time. She thought over all that had passed between her and her mother, till she began to question herself, why she did not feel disposed to see the various me- rits of Mr. Gordon as plainly as did Lady Harriet. She taxed herself with the fastidious- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 199 ness of which she had been accused^biit as she felt sure that she could make up her niind to become the wife of half a dozen of her acquaintance, provided Mr. Gordon was tiot one, she acquitted herself of that failing. She then accused herself of such a natural want of sensibility, as rendered her incapable of those feelings, without which she did not wish to marry : — but the recollection of how tenderly she loved every member of her family, at once forbad the idea of any deficiency in her powers of affection. Perhaps the comparison between Mr. Gor- don and another individual of her acquain- tance, was not to the advantage of the former. But, said Emily to herself, why should I com- pare a man who is nothing to me, or I to him, with one in whose society I cannot pass an hour, without being in danger of his making 200 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. too plain a declaration to be misimderiood; and, though alone, she reddened at the humi- liating idea, tliat she had allowed her thoughts, even for an instant, to rest, though not to dwell, upon the image of one, who, she was sure, would neither ask or desire such a distinction ; and could Mr. Gordon but have proposed to her before she had had time to recollect herself, she would perhaps have been almost induced to accept him, in order to convince herself, that she was incapable of caring for one who was indifferent towards her. Again, upon reflection, her heart and prin- ciples recoiled at the idea of professing an affec- tion which she did not feel, and of irrevocably binding herself to a man, who found less fa- vour in her eyes than did six others whom she silently enumerated. Whether, if five out of those six, had, like Mr. Gordon, been com- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 201 pared with the sixth, the decision would still have been in their favour, we cannot pretend to say. Still the often repeated assurances of her mother, that though she had married Mr. De Clifford with even something like reluctance, she would not have exchanged her lot for that of any other human being, so perfectly un- clouded had been her married life (saving the loss of children), pressed upon her mind. She doubted whether her feelings might not under- go the same cliange as had done those of Lady Harriet in former days ; and the anxious de- sire she felt to please her mother, v/as another inducement, not to throw away such an oppor- tunity of fulfilling her wishes, by settling In life. Thus was poor Emily torn by conflicting feelings : she v/ished to do what was right, and k5 202 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. the more she dweU upon the subject, the more perplexed and unhappy did she feel ; till fall- ing on her knees, she implored, with tears in her eyes, that her judgment might be assisted, and earnestly prayed, never to be placed in any situation where she would be tempted be- yond what she could bear: then rising with those feelings of composure which must ever spring from the confidence, that what is asked of a merciful and omnipotent Being will not be asked in vain, she retired to rest, and resolving that she would take no unnecessary thought for the morrow, she sank into a deeper sleep than, we suspect, fell that night to the lot of the unhappy object of her reflections. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 203 CHAPTER XL t3uR readers may remember, that when we quitted Herbert Lovaine, he had been for a moment in danger of relapsing into a mere sen- timentalist ; but a friend in need is a friend indeed, and his thoughts were speedily turned by Mr. Benson to the consideration of those subjects, which he had learnt the preceding spring to consider as alone worthy of his at- tention. He studied Mr. Jeremy Bentham's book of fallacies^ till every government, institution, and opinion, appeared in his eyes grounded on fallacy, constructed by fallacy, and sup- ported by fallacy: — in short, all was fal- 204 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. lacious, save and except his own unerring judgment. He again addressed his former auditors at the debating society; and though, from some strange and unaccountable reason, at the end of the first hour and a half of his speech, those equivocal signs of yawning and snoring, of coughing and sneezing, were exhibited by a large proportion of the company, he yet gave such universal satisfaction, from the improve- ment in his style, that those who considered him at his debut as " a rising^ vouns^ man," might now be fairly supposed to pronounce him "risen." He entirely abstained from all society but that which was likely to improve his mind— or, as his uncle would say, to flatter his vanity ; for, unaccountable as it may seem, yet certain it is, that he never felt himself of so much im- THE SCHOOL or FASHION. 205 portance, as in certain coteries held by the wife of a clever and opulent merchant, to whom he had been made known by Messrs. Benson and Prateall, and at whose house all true patriots were in the habit of meeting. Whether Mrs. Lawlie (for such was the lady's name) viewed our hero as one who had been rescued miraculously from the evil conse- quences usually attendant upon the misfortune of noble birth, but who still required the foster- ing hand of care, lest he should relapse into the idle habits of the aristocracy, and therefore was induced to bestow so much attention on young Lovaine; or whether the knowledge of his being heir presumptive to the title of his ma- ternal grandfather, together with the circum- stance of his being a young man of fashion, was, after all, the secret cause of Mrs. Lawlie's particular devotion to him, we cannot pretend 206 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. to determine ; but certain it was, that although Mrs. Lawlie pitied and despised those by whom she was not considered as the only wo- man really above the prejudices and weaknesses of her sex, and thought proportionably well of those whose powers of discernment saved them from such error ; yet never did she think- so highly of the tributaries who did homage to her talents, as when they appeared in the per- sons of any members of that much-detested and privileged class to which Herbert belonged. In short, whether Mrs. Lawlie was a vulgar, vain, pedantic woman, who constantly aspired to be admitted into what Mrs. Buckle called " the igher circles," or that, in fact, she was a petticoat patriot and philosopher, it is not for us at present to decide. Till the introduction of Mr. Lovaine, Mr. Benson had been the Magnus Apollo of Mrs. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 20*7 Lawlie ; and when he first perceived how highly his protege was appreciated, he looked upon it as a further proof of his own influence in that quarter, and felt proud of his sagacity, in havinof discovered and brouojht forward a person, who was worthy of being noticed by his own friends and admirers. But Mr. Benson, like many others, felt greater pleasure in the success of his friend, when he was considered either as part and par- cel of himself, or as one who shone but by a bor- rowed light from him, than when he appeared as a rival meteor, whose superior brilliancy cast an eclipsing shadow over his own brightness. When Mrs. Lawlie first ceased to pay Mr. Benson exclusive attention, he inwardly ac- cused her of relapsing into frivolous pursuits, and himself of having too highly raised his ex- 208 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. pectations of her steadiness, considering the natural weakness of her sex. It was in returning one day from Mrs. Law- lie's house, (v/here much able discussion had taken place respecting the state of the coun- try,) that Herbert remarked to his friend, how much he was struck with the superiority of her understanding and acquirements; when, rather to his astonishment, Mr. Benson coldly replied, " She has disappointed me, I own ; at least, if disappointment can be said to exist where expectations were rather formed against, than upon, one's own judgment." " I thought," rejoined Herbert, " that it was you who had told me, that in Mrs. Lawlie I should find a striking contrast to the females of the aristocracy, (or, as I remember, you were pleased to say, of the class to which I be- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 209 longed,) and I must say, I was quite disposed to assent to your opinion respecting her." " It was less my opinion than that of friends, with whom, upon most subjects, I am inclined to agree. Claypole and Ratsbane think so very highly of her capacity, as to have much altered their opinions upon the degree of existing dif- ference between the intellectual powers of the tv/o sexes ; and Claypole had even some thoughts of publishing a treatise upon female education which he has written, and in wliich he has endeavoured to prove that, by a total alteration of the present system, women might, in time, become useful members of the com- munity, instead of being mere contributors to that overwhelming calamity — an overstocked population." " I am rather inclined to agree with him," replied Herbert, " for you know I have always 210 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. been disposed to think that, with such exam- ples as are to be found in different ages, of celebrated women, this apparent inferiority must be more the effect of innumerable and remote causes, dependent on external circum- stances, than of natural incapacity. What say you, for instance, to Queen Elizabeth ?" *' That one should receive with great doubt all accounts of those, whose praise it was the interest of cotemporary writers to sound." ** That criticism will not apply to Madame de Stael. You do not, surely, deny her literary powers ?" " I have never read above one or two of her publications, but I imagine there is no doubt of her having been very much assisted. In- deed, I am very sceptical as to there being much of her own wTiting in any of the works called her's." THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 211 Herbert was beginning to think his friend was not quite candid upon the subject of female talent, and would perhaps have argued the point further, had they not accidentally met Sir Gilbert Bayley, who, disregarding the presence of a third person, instantly stopped and accosted Herbert. " How are you, Lovaine ?" This v.as quite as much as Lovaine wished to hear from Sir Gilbert, but it was not to be expected that he would let him off so easily ; and, indeed, he had scarcely time to reply to that question, to which an answer is so seldom required or expected, before the Baronet returned to the charge, by saying, " You have lost a devilish good season this year by coming to town : by Jove ! such scentinor doojs ! There's old Tom Ryder, my huntsman, says himself he don't re- 212 TrIE SCHOOL OF FASHION. member such a winter for the last fifteen years; and you know old Tom is a bit of a growler generally." Herbert was not a little annoyed at the in- timacy and familiarity of the tone in which Sir Gilbert addressed him, thousfh in the auorust presence of Mr. Benson ; but the laconic reply of " Indeed !" coldly uttered, to this glowing description of a mild winter, was no damper to the volubility of Sir Gilbert. " I suppose," continued he, " you soon got tired of that d — d nonsense about books. No, no, Herbert, not quite such a gull as to believe you left Beechv.ood that you might not lose your time. Some fairer reason than that brought you here. Hey ! Herbert ! Is she pretty ? Well made ? Hey ! ' To these questions Herbert made no reply ; THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 213 but, in order to prevent bis continuing in tbe same strain, be inquired wbetber Sir Gilbert was only just come to town. " Only last ^londay, for a call of tbe House : notbing less to my taste, you know, tban poli- tics. I only wisb one migbt be allowed to vote b}' proxy in tbe House of Commons ; or tbat any one could remember bow my fatber used to vote upon all tbese questions. Tbe old gen- tleman bad a turn tbat way, and I may just as well follow bis steps." Had Lovaine been Ute-a-tete witb Sir Gil- bert during tbis colloquy, be would only bave felt a sligbt increase of tbe contempt wbicb be usually excited : but be was considerably an- noyed at finding that, ere be bad time to prove to Mr. Benson bow entirely his opinions were at variance witb those expressed by Sir Gil- 214 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. bert, and how completely he could crush such an ignoramus, his arm was deserted ; and when he turned his eyes in quest of his companion, he found that Mr. Benson was already at some distance from him, going down the street ; and feeling certain he had been quitted from a fit of disgust, he was doubly annoyed at finding all attempt to rejoin him was put entirely out of the question by Sir Gilbert gently adher- ing to his button-hole,* as soon as his atten- tion appeared to wander. * We cannot help thinking that could any other means but that of the sacrifice of his button have been suggested by the witty and ingenious authoress of that spirituel little work, called " The Royal Intellectual Bazaar," for the rid- dance of a determined button-holder, it would have been most gladly purchased by the suffering Herbert ; and we may perhaps hope that ere long the same pen may offer some more useful hints for bettering the condition of those who spend their life in social intercourse. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 215 " Who the deuce is that queer-looking fel- low who has just left your side ?" inquired Sir Gilbert. " A friend of mine ; his name is Benson, he is a lawyer by profession, and one of the cleverest men of his day." " Oh ! brother, or cousin, I suppose, to ' the books,' as I think you call ^ her !' He ! he! he! Well ! never mind, always glad to see you at dinner, whenever you can come, only let mc know in the morning. Good day, Herbert I" What a much happier person was Herbert Lovaine when he affected less to despise the opinions of others, and was really less anxious upon the subject. That a change in his pur- suits had indeed been highly desirable, no- body could deny ; but no further alteration had been wanting. Unfortunately, however, when he changed his habits of idleness for 216 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. those of industry, he deemed it necessary to assume precisely the character which he had imaixined to himself was best suited' to an aspirant to patriotism and philosophy; and then became most painfully sensitive to the misapprehension in others of the part he was performing, and which, as in the present in- stance, he very often experienced, both from his former friends and new acquaintances; and he retired to his lodgings with the no very pleasant reflection, that he was voted the friend of a fribble by Mr. Benson, and the idle suitor of some fair damsel, by Sir Gilbert Bayley. That " nature never did people half the ill turns they did for themselves" was a favourite maxim of Mr. Mordaunt's, and this was cer- tainly verified in Herbert, for no one suffered more than he did from the bad effects of pre- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 21T tention, and of seeming to be what he was not. He had scarcely, however, time to ruminate upon the contretemps of the afternoon in his own room, before he perceived a letter lying upon the table from his uncle, announcing his in- tended arrival in the metropolis. It was with mixed feelings of pleasure and regret that he received this intelligence. In spite of their numerous tiffs and dis- putes, his affection for his uncle caused him to rejoice at the immediate prospect of seeing him. Then he felt a sort of pride in the idea that he should have an opportunity of proving how little congenial to his tastes and pursuits were the amusements and dissipations, which he knew his uncle believed to be his chief in- ducement for residing in London. Perhaps also the thought that, assisted by his friends, VOL. I. L 218 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. he should be able to crush many an old pre^ judice, and bring his uncle into a better way of viewing men and things, also crossed his mind. On the other hand, the recollection of the contempt with which various theories for the good of mankind in general, and of Eng- land in particular, had been treated by him, and the unqualified manner in which he had sometimes suggested that Herbert was a foolish boy, too young to form, and much more to express, an opinion, also intruded itself; and he shrunk from the idea that one of those authoritative sallies, with which he was some- times favoured, might be delivered in presence of those, whose contempt would be equally ex- cited towards him for bearing and towards his uncle for bestowing it. He determined, however, to lose no more time unnecessarily, as the probable presence of THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 219^- his uncle the next evening must be a very great interruption. He sat himself down therefore to read several pamphlets recom- mended by Mrs. Lawlie, and did not retire to his bed till a late hour. Mr. Lovaine had not nam.ed the precise day or hour on which he was to arrive ; but from some passages in his letters, Herbert had ima- gined that he would, at soonest, be in town on the evening after he had received the in- telligence of his intended visit. He was, there- fore, somewhat surprised at being roused from his sleep on the following morning by the exclamation of " Herbert, my dear boy ! how are you ? why the deuce are you not up and dressed ?" from the mouth of Mr. Lovaine, who was standing by his bed-side. He instantly arose to welcome his uncle, and in a short time they were comfortably seated L 2 220 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. at the breakfast table ; nor was this, their first interview, clouded with any further disagree- ment than an entire difference of opinion as to the cause of Herbert being found in bed at eleven o'clock; it being totally impossible to make Mr. Lovaine believe that it was in consequence of reading, and not of dancing, till a late hour the preceding evening. THE SCHOOL OP FASHION. 221 CHAPTER XII. That Mr. Lovaine's object, in visiting London, was the arrangement of some business which required his presence, was perfectly true ; but as he also wished to see as much of his nephew as the natural affection which he en- tertained for him prompted, and to watch how he spent his time, as much as his curiosity and anxiety for his welfare suggested, he established himself at an hotel within a few doors of Her- bert's residence, and made a point of dropping in at all hours, to see how matters went on there. Having generally found him at home and alone, he was almost surprised, one morning, 222 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. at seeing a gentleman with him, who was ap- parently Herbert's senior, and who was by no means dressed in the dandy style in which, according to Mr. Lovaine's opinion, a friend of Herbert's was likely to be attired. Neither his appearance or his manner were very pre- possessing in his eyes ; for, next to a coxcomb, he most deprecated a sloven ; and there was an evident disregard to neatness in the stranger's toilette, and an absence of that respect which he always considered due to him from his juniors (whom he ever regarded as his in- feriors), which instantly created something very like a decided prejudice against Mr. Benson, for it was no less a personage whom Herbert presented to his uncle. Nor was this unfavourable impression (we dare not say ' prejudice,' because neither Mr. Benson, or any of his friends, ever did enter- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 223 tain one in their lives) quite unreciprocal ; for •the just mind of the utilitarian revolted at the unwarrantable arrogance of an ignorant aris- tocrat, and could scarcely refrain from setting him right upon every subject on which they touched. " Do you go to Russell Square this even- ing ?" inquired Mr. Benson, as he rose to leave the room — " Professor , who is just arrived from Edinburgh, will be there." " I dine there," replied Herbert, " and so does he, I believe." *Mr. Benson made no reply, but slightly bowing to Mr. Lovaine, senior, left the room ; not, however, without a certain expression of displeasure, which, though he was too much of a philosopher ever to be ruffled, did sometimes disfigure his countenance when he was not pleased. 224 THE SCHOOL OF FAS-HION. " So that is the Mr. Benson, Herbert, whom I have heard you mention very often as your friend ! I expected to see such another dandy as yourself: but, hang it! he looks more like a dirty attorney than a gentleman !'* " He is a man of very superior talents and acquirements, I can assure you, sir, whatever may be his appearance." " A confoundedly conceited one, I am sure. In my younger days, it was the custom for young men to be a little less free in giving their opinions, and to listen more to those of older and wiser heads than their own." " Benson is accounted old in wisdom and learning, if not in years, sir, by those who know him well." " D — d theorist, I dare say ! If he had stayed five minutes more in the room, I should have given him a bit of my mind, for pre- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 225 suming to contradict a practical man like my- self, who am old enough to be his father !" Herbert silently thanked his stars for having so narrowly escaped such a dreadful exposure of his uncle's self-importance, in the presence of a friend whom he so greatly respected. Notwithstanding, however, this avowed dis- approval of Mr. Benson's manners, Mr. Lo- vaine had had sufficient discrimination to perceive that he was a man of more than common quickness ; and though, perhaps, that discovery did not always carry with it a desire, on his part, for further acquaintance, yet, in the present instance, the hope of being able to correct a youth of talent, and to teach the friend of his adopted son how unerringly right were all his opinions, induced a curiosity, al- most amounting to a wish, to see more of him ; and ere he quitted his nephew, he told him, L 5 226 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. that as he and Mr. Benson were such sworn allies, he was quite welcome to ask him to dinner, some day, at ^ — Hotel ; a per- mission for which Herbert naturally returned his thanks ; but by which, for various reasons, he had no intention to profit. Young Lpvaine was, as he informed Mr. Benson in the morning, engaged to dine in Russell Square ; and accordingly, at the ap- pointed hour, he found himself at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Lawlie, and in company with a select party^ composed of metaphysicians and political economists from the north of the Tweed ; a few almost-desponding well-wishers to their country, proud of the title of Radical Reformers; a youthful barrister; a sceptical surgeon ; and the authoress of the abridgments of several scientific treatises, for the use of children from nine to thirteen years of age; or THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 227 irather, for the chance of those from sixteen to twenty-one being able to understand and profit by the same. With such a party, it may easily be suppos- ed that conversation was not wanting to the learned, or instruction to the more ignorant. They talked of the late manly and spirited endeavours of the operatives of several impor- tant manufacturing districts, to assert and en- force their right to an increase of wages, in consequence of the monopoly sanctioned by the state of the corn laws, for the advantage of an aristocracy which was obviously useless; the horrors of an over-stocked population, the natural result of the improvident ignorance of the lower orders in marrying ; the humane sacrifice of the Chinese, in doing violence to their natural sympathies, by observing the practice of infanticide, and thus sparing to their 228 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. children the inconveniences and sufferings at- tendant upon want and a world of misery ; the vicious tendency of almost all public and private charities, which, by affording only partial relief, increase the general dis^ tress, and can, at best, be considered but as the fruits of ill-directed benevolence; and of the certainty which now existed, that the universal diffusion of knowledge would se- cure mankind against acting from passion, and not from reason. •. The advantages of absenteeism were very ably supported by Mr. M*Bean. The dangers of cultivating the imagination by the study of poetry and the fine arts, were warmly insisted upon by both Mrs. Lawlie and Mrs. Lovechild, lest they should be considered unworthy companions of reasonable and en- lightened men ; as was also the necessity of the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 229 early initiation of youth into every branch of science, by the latter lady.^fflr*^ mrjt^y^ }n^t*it^'^ A young collegian started the doubt, as to whether the chairs and tables were really chairs and tables ; and the young barrister quoted, or misquoted, a celebrated author, to prove that we did not ourselves exist. The truth or fallacy of craniolog}' was next discussed. Mr. Fergusson reasoned most acute- ly upon the subject, and adduced as many un- answerable arguments in its favour, as did the gentleman of the faculty before alluded to against it. The metaphysician contended, that the tangible organs were but the material signs of that which was immaterial, and not the soul itself; but his more sceptical opponent first denied the existence of a spiritual and incor- porate essence, and then proved most logicallyj in the first place, that that, of which any thing 230 THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOK. is a sign, must exist — that that which has no existence, can have no sign ; ergo^ that when nothing exists, there can be no sign — and most anatomically, in the second place, that grant- ing the hypothesis of the soul's existence, it was physically impossible for it to cause such effects upon the brain, as had been asserted by the craniologist. Oh ! 'twas the real " feast of reason, and the flow of soul ;" and although the majority of the company had far too decided a prefe- rence for talking, to listening, ever to have discovered the truth of a remark once made by Mr. Mordaunt, to a gentleman whose powers of conversation were apt to run away with his judgment, viz. that he wished he would re- member, that it had pleased God to give him two ears, but only one mouth, that he might hear twice as much as bespoke: yet it Was THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 231 considered by all, but one, to have been a very agreeable and instructive repast — and that one was Mr. Lawlie, who, though possessed of suf- ficient ability to be a tolerably good man of business in his own line, yet by no means shared in the intellectual pleasures of his wife. He seldom cared who surrounded his festive board, so long as Mrs. Lawlie vvas pleased; and, whilst silently calculating the number of days that must elapse before one ship could depart, or another have performed her qua- rantine, he neither heeded nor understood the learned disquisitions that took place at his table. Herbert had been accustomed to popularity all the days of his life ; his absence of preten- sion, and his open, obliging, and unaffected manners, had, as we before mentioned, secur- ed to him, upon his debut in the world, a 232 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. good reception wherever he went; and when he first became a victim to that demon Vanity, the offspring of Ignorance, and that the pride of intellect beguiled him into words and deeds which rendered his society unpleasing, where formerly it had pleased, his own really good abilities, and the hopes of gaining a pro- selyte, had secured him a sufficient degree of notice in another set of acquaintances, to compensate for the change. It was not, therefore, from the novelty, but from the excess of admiration, that his vanity was un- usually flattered, and his spirits unusually high during this dinner. Glances were di- rected towards him, when allusions were made to certain rare individuals, who were to be found rising superior to the prejudices and disadvantages of education. Mrs. Rachel Lovechild envied the ad van- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 233 tages which his sister, if he had one, must derive from being brought up with a young man, who had the wisdom to despise the fri- volous pursuits of unenlightened youth. Mrs. Lawlie doubted not (in an under tone of voice) the truth of craniology, when she saw " such an evidence of its truth in that forehead/' Mr. Fergusson, more than once, thought it " a vera remarkable fact that sae young a man should shew sae much learning and research in all his observations.'* Mr. M*Bean, " though in gude truth nae great flatterer, could nae help remarking that it gave him pleasure to meet with a young mon of so much promise ; and he nae dooted that in entreating Mr. and Mrs. Lawlie to meet him the following week at dinner in his ane hoose, he was just inviting them to meet 234 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. one wha would do credit in time to the highest honours that could be conferred upon him by his country." Nor was Mrs. Lawlie slow in givinor her acceptance to the North Briton's polite invi- tation, for herself and her husband, so soon as Herbert had declared himself to be diseni^affed CD O on the following Wednesday. It was not long after dinner was concluded, and the company re-assembled in the drawing- room, when Mr. Benson made his appearance, and was immediately introduced by Mrs. Law- lie to some of the company with whom he was previously unacquainted, and was quickly en- gaged, or seemingly engaged, in conversation with them. Still ever and anon his eyes, if not his attention, wandered to the sofa on which were Herbert and Mrs. Lawlie seated, and eagerly talking to each other. THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 235 Mrs. Lawlie was about thirty years of age ; rather small in person ; of a clea^ dark com- plexion ; piercing black eyes, and sharp fea- tures. Her countenance was rather distin- guished by the variety and intelligence of its expression than by any softer feelings: and though there was generally an affectation of placidity and of philosophical indifference in her manner, that but ill accorded with the passions too often betrayed in her looks; yet •he sometimes astonished by her shew of learn- ing, and sometimes captivated by her powers of flattery. Whether Mr. Benson was a victim to these attractions, or to the simple mortifiqation of thinking that the pupil was esteemed greater than the master, we do not pretend to de- termine ; but certain it v.as, that in pro- portion to the length of time that Herbert 236 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. remained in conversation with Mrs. Lawlie, his brow knit closer — his eye looked keener — and his whole countenance more austere than usual. At last, perceiving that Mrs. Rachel Love- child had drawn her chair towards the sofa in order to speak to Herbert, he approached Mrs. Lawlie, and in a tone of pique congra- tulated her upon her unusually high spirits, and the apparent conquest she had made of the young Aristocrat. ** He is a most intellectual young man ; and I assure you, my dear Mr. Benson, that Mr. M'Bean thought most highly of his abilities. We all give you great credit for having res- cued him from the frivolous pursuits, in which he owns himself to have been engaged till he knew you." Had Mr. Benson been in that most dange- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 237 rous of all fictitious buildings, the " Palais de la Verite," there is no knowing but what he might have answered this tirade in praise of his own handy-work by a hearty wish that his protege was still driving tandems, hunting foxes, shooting birds, dancing jigs, or gone to the devil, sooner than be where he was, and had been all the evening; but luckily his con- sistency and truth were put to no such trial, and he only replied with an almost superci- lious curl of the lip, " he is not wanting in capacity ; but will never be a first»rate man ; he has certainly very fair abilities — nothing more." Mrs. Lawlie shortly perceived, by these and similar phrases, that the praises of Herbert were by no means music to the ears of Mr. Benson, and as truth compels us to own, was 23S THE SCHOOL OF FASHIOK. more disposed to argue the point " en coquette qu'en philosophe'' No wonder, therefore, that she soon succeeded in smoothing the ruffled brow of her soi-disant imperturbable friend; and when she reproached him for having lately neglected her education, and told him she should be ready to receive him at twelve o'clock the following day, if he would come and read to, and discuss with her certain books that they had begun together a short time before, he was convinced in his own mind that she was decidedly superior to the rest of her sex— and would not, perhaps, have been quite so ready to deny the truth of Mr. Clay- pole's intended essay, as he had been on a former occasion to Herbert, 'Tis thus that woman, like music, hath power and charms " to soothe the savage THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 239 breast, to soften rocks, and smooth the knotted oak." Herbert and Mr. Benson left the house together, both equally satisfied with them- selves and its inmates. 240 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. CHAPTER XIII. " What became of you yesterday evening, Herbert?" inquired Mr. Lovaine the follow- ing morning. " I sent to your lodgings for you, as I was quite alone from the time I saw you in th-e morning, but they knew nothing about you there." " I dined in Russell Square, and did not return till very late." " RusseU Square ! Whom on earth do you know in Russell Square ?" " Nobody, Sir, with whose name you are acquainted." " What, something mysterious ! Oh, oh ! Master Herbert — the murder is out, of why THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 241 you appear to lead this sober quiet life ! I always thought there was something under the rose ! May I be allowed to learn the name, with which I am not at present ac- quainted ?" It was generally a severe trial to Herbert's temper when his uncle began to jeer him ; for although he often did so with the utmost good-nature, yet there was at the same time something rather humiliating to his self-love, both in the manner and the matter of such jests — consequently the more jocular was Mr. Lovaine, the more grave was his nephew. ^ " You are quite mistaken in your suppo- sition, I can assure you. Sir ; but there is no use in the mere knowledge of a name to which one can associate no idea*" " Come, come, boy ! why cannot you give me a plain answer to a plain question ; if you VOL. I. M 242 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. are asliamed of your friends, say so ; if not, say \vho tliey are." >/ { ,.. *^ If the sound of a name is any satisfaction to you, Sir, you are perfectly welcome to know, that I dined yesterday at ]\Ir. and Mrs. Law- lie's." ^.^V AJ /,,. '*' And who the deuce are they ?" " Mr. Lawlie is, I believe, in the mercan- tile line ; and Mrs, Lawlie is one of the most enlightened women of the age." " Humph ! I've no great fancy for what is called an enlightened woman ! My grand- mother, and her contemporaries, were worth a thousand enlightened women of the present day. No novels and accomplishments in those times to prevent their being good wives and mothers ! I wish to heaven the war had lasted through my life, at least, to shut out all com- munication with the Continent ; or that there THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 248 could be some law to prevent people going abroad ; for half the mischief proceeds from foreign countries ! England would then be something like a nation again, and the good old times would return, when young men shewed respect to their elders, and women a proper obedience to man." " Our ideas upon education in general, and upon female education in particular, do not, I believe agree,'* was, after a short silence, Her- bert's reply to Mr. Lovaine's often repeated lament over the degeneracy of the times; a lament, which the mention of an enlightened woman seldom failed to produce. " No ! because, as I told you a few months ago at Beechwood, you have been made a fool of by some pedantic girl. Miss Lawson, or Lawtop, I suppose — is not that the name of your Russell Square friends ?" M2 244 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " Lawlie is the name which I mentioned, at your request, just now Sir !" " Well then, Miss Lawlie" (continued Mr. Lovaine, the equanimity of whose temper w^as now somewhat disturbed by this discussion) " is, I suppose, the young lady for whose sake you disdain your former pursuits, and renounce the world — though pretty well clothed too in its pomps and vanities." *' Really this attack is as unprovoked and as unmerited, Sir, as was the last you made upon the same subject — nor have my feelings and wishes undergone any change since I in- formed you at Beech wood Park, how little congenial was matrimony to my pursuits and views in life.'' '• Very grand indeed ! I like to hear a uoy of your age talk of his tastes, and feelings, and pursuits, and views in life ! Oh Lord ! THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 24-5 what shall we come to next ? But though I should certainly refuse my consent to your marrying her, or any other blue-stocking devil, they may perhaps entrap you into a disagreeable scrape, which would be creditable to neither party." " I should hope. Sir, I am not likely to dis- grace myself in any way ; nor do I know whom you designate by the appellation of blue- stocking devil." " No ! because you don't like to have the little vixen called by her true name." " What vixen, Sir ?" - " Why the chit you are in love with, to be sure ! Your school-mistress." " And who may that be. Sir ?" " Hang it, Herbert ! don't provoke me any further by these impertinent equivocations. I suppose you don't pretend to deny that you are 246 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. in love ivith the girl, even if you don't mean to marry her !" " What girl, Sir ?" " Come boy ! I will not be trifled with any longer," replied Mr. Lovaine, with increased anger ; " do you, or do you not, pretend to deny your attachment to Miss Lawlie ?'* " I am wholly at a loss to understand you, Sir." " In other words, Herbert, you do not choose to own the truth ? Can you give me any proof that I am wrong in my surmise ?" " Certainly, if my word is a sufficient pledge for the truth of what I may assert." " No ! that alone is insufficient in the pre- sent case," rejoined Mr. Lovaine, who, pro- voked at the tone of independence assumed by his nephew, had lost both his temper and his judgment, as indeed he usually did, whenever THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 247 he conceived that the extent and weight of his authority was in danger of being disputed. " I have a right to demand of you to be more explicit upon such a subject." " Perhaps then, when I inform you that there is no such person as Miss Lawlie, and that Mr. and Mrs. Lawlie have no unmarried female relation belonging to them, to my know- ledge, you will be better satisfied." Angry and unreasonable as was Mr. Lovaine, he was dumb-founded at so complete a refuta- tion of his suspicions, for in spite of his decla- ration that his nephew's word was insufficient testimony in the present case, he could not, and diS not doubt the strict veracity of his state- ment as to the non-existence of the imaginary culprit, Miss Lawlie. For some few minutes both parties were silent. Herbert felt his triumph, and was satis- 248 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. iied. Mr. Lovaine, conscious of defeat, was equally unwilling to own himself wrong, or to commit himself further. The conference soon broke up, and they parted mutually dissatis- fied, the one at the narrow-minded prejudices ofjadis, and the other at the aspiring, rebel- lious spirit of aujourcChui, Mr. Lovaine was, how^ever, as we have before mentioned, a kind-hearted man, notwithstand- ing the irritability of his temper, and his perti- nacious adherence to his own opinions; and as it occurred to him, after the lapse of a few hours, that he had been more precipitate than just in accusing Herbert of an actual and active flirta- tion, or intended marriage, with an ideal being, who neither did or ever had existed, he deter- mined to be as cordial with him, or even more so than usual, when next they met : nor was he, we suspect, as anxious to postpone the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 249 next meeting as might have been supposed by a by-stander to the morning's interview. Cer- tain it is, that he was no sooner equipped for the ahernoon^s pro77ienad€, than he sallied forth exactly in that direction in which it was most likely for him to meet his nephew. He had not proceeded far before he met a gentleman whom he instantly recognized to be Mr. Benson. After the usual salutations, Mr Lovaine inquired if he had seen Herbert coming that way. " No !" replied Mr. Benson, " I have not seen him since we walked home together last night from Russell Square." The mention of that quarter of the metro- polis instantly reminded him of the unfortunate dispute respecting the imaginary being, and Mdshing to make Herbert some amends for what had passed, it occurred to him to invite M 5 2o0 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Mr. Benson to dinner for the following day. For tlrat he was engaged — the day after was therefore fixed ; and immediately on his return home a note was despatched by Mr. Lovaine to Herbert, to desire he would also dine with him, to meet his particular friend. Nothing could be more disagreeable to Her- bert, by way of being agi'eeable, than the in- telligence contained in this note. He had never intended profiting by the permission given by his uncle to feed Mr. Benson, for certain reasons before mentioned, and these reasons had naturally acquired strength from the conversation of the morning. To prevent this meeting was now no longer possible ; he dared not leave them alone, lest his guardian should too decidedly undertake the education of his friend; and yet he dread- ed the idea of being himself shewn up, ifi by THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 2^J his presence, he averted the evil consequences of a tete-a-tete. Then again, he suspected that this dinner was a sort of olive-branch, which it was difficult for him to decline ; in short, dreading the responsibility of excusing himself unnecessarily, he determined to accept, or, as Mr. Lovaine would have said, to obey the sum- mons. The day arrived, and, like most other days for whose arrival we are not anxious, unusu- ally quick. Herbert tortured himself during the two intervening days with his ow^n imagi- nation, quite as much as if he had not asserted over and over again, that man was to be go- verned by his reason, not by his fancy ; and by the time he had set out for his uncle's hotel, he had pictured to himself a dozen scenes, as likely to occur, each more unpleasant than the other — and when he reached the hotel, he 252 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION". almost expected to find Mr. Lovaine and his guest either in liigh dispute, or already not on speaking terms. His alarms were, however, as unnecessary and romantic, as were those of the young lady at Northanger Abbey, when she opened the cabinet ; and perhaps the bathos of her disco- very was scarcely greater than his, when, on being ushered into the drawing-room, he found the supposed antagonists quietly, and with the utmost urbanity, discussincr ^yith Lord X and the Hon. Mr. D the state — not of the nation, but of the weather ! In- deed, it must be confessed that, with one or two trifling exceptions, the resemblance be- tween this meeting and the mouse-producing mountain was strikino^. If our readers are less well acquainted with Mr. Benson than ourselves, they may perhaps THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 253 be surprised at the forbearance he exercised ; but then we must remind them, that though he most thoroughly despised the aristocracy in theory, he was far too liberal a man not to make exceptions in favour of some indivi- duals, who had the discrimination both to per- ceive his own merits, and to treat him accord- ingly. Amongst this select number he was inclined to place his present host — not cer- tainly from the nature of any opinions that he had elicited at their only previous interview, but from the circumstance of his having thus speedily invited him (Mr. Benson) to make farther and more intimate acquaintance through the medium of the dinner-table. It could not be said that Mr. Benson for- swore his own principles upon this, or upon any other similar occasion ; but he did not con- sider himself called upon at every instant to 254 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. broach those subjects, on which it was more than probable a decided difference of opinion would exist. In other words, Mr. Benson could, when he chose, conduct himself with tact and discretion; and he generally did ohoose so to conduct himself in company with one of the unenlightened few, who in any de- gree flattered his vanity. It is singular that Herbert, who alone anti- cipated evil from the meeting of people so in- congruous in their habits, manners, and prin- ciples, should alone be the person to endanger the harmony which subsisted between them ; — but so it was : — he was, in fact, a warmer, if we may not say a more sincere advocate of Mr. Benson's creed, than was Mr. Benson himself. There was a bitterness of feeling towards that which he disapproved in the lat- ter, which borrowed, at times, the appearance THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 255 of enthusiasm — an appearance with which, un- knowingly, Herbert had at first been capti- vated; he was, however, in truth, no en- thusiast. Had Mr. Benson been rich, he would have been ostentatious — had he been noble, he would have been arrogant — had he been a king, he would have been a despot : but fate had allotted him none of those parts to play in the theatre of life. He was ambitious, ra- ther because he hated inferiority, than because he wished to extend his sphere of benevolence ; and he decried the power he courted, because he did not possess it. The bane of his existence was the consci- ousness of poverty and low birth. In vain did he seek the antidote — for alas ! he could not acquire a fortune in a minute, and still less was it possible for him to alter his parentage. He 256 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. did, however, certainly possess abilities so de- cidedly above par, that had they been well and steadily applied to his profession, he would pro- bably have secured to himself distinction full as great, and far more honourable, than those arising from such adventitious circumstances as wealth and birth ; but envy rankled in his bosom, and rendered useless the power with which nature had endowed him to rise above his fellows. Discontented, he sought the society of mal- contents, and in a short time, by his superior intelligence and dictatorial manner, he ac- quired, in a small set, a degree of influence and authority which was gratifying to him, but yet insufficient to satisfy his vanity; and al- though he at once hated and despised, or, to speak more correctly, envied all those whom he felt to be his superiors, either in point of THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 25T talent or situation, he was seldom happier than when they seemed willing to forget the diffe- rence by cultivating his acquaintance. Pleased and won by flattery, keenly sensitive to every imaginary slight, he pretended to despise the applause of the world, and to be above the feel- ings common to our nature. Desiring power, he preached equality, and while continually suffering from a morbid sensibility, he affected a philosophical indifference, amounting to sto- icism. His real character often betrayed him into situations inconsistent with the principles or professions of that which he assumed; and he was not unfrequently under the necessity of sacrificing his sincerity, not to say his truth, to maintain an appearance of consistency. But we must return to the dinner-table, where, as our readers will remember, Herbert had endangered the peace and harmony of the 258 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. company, by maintaining with even more than usual warmth, an argument with Lord K upon the rights of man ; confident that it would be pleasing to Mr. Benson to hear him ably support the opinions he had learned from him and his friends ; and trusting that, as his uncle was ensraged in conversation with Mr. D , there would be but little risk of his hearing or reprimanding him as an ignorant boy. When ever he had, or fancied he had the advantage of his opponent, or whenever he felt that he re- quired assistance, he looked round to Mr. Benson either for applause or support; but by some extraordinary accident, his attention seemed so much engaged at those moments, that Herbert's endeavours to attract his notice were all in vain. At first he thought this silence pro- ceeded from his not having listened to the dis- cussion, or observed that it was wished he should THE SCHOOL OF FASHION/ 259 join therein; but when, upon his being address- ed more than once by name, and appealed to upon some particular point, on which Herbert had often heard him hold forth by the hour, he still shewed the same indisposition to commit himself, he could no longer consider it acciden- tal, though he was puzzled beyond measure to account for the cause of this apparent indif- ference to a subject, on which he was ge- nerally addicted to display his eloquence and ingenuity. In due time the company departed, and Herbert and his uncle were left to do what most other people, we believe, do by their departed guests, viz, talk them over, that is to say, canvas tlieir various merits and demerits : a practice which, though very agreeable to the party that remains, is often far less so to the obj ects of discussion . ;M 260 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Many a time have we seen a modest retiring man prolong his visit, though conscious that his company is no longer desired, because he has not the courage to furnish the society he quits with "himself," as the next subject of conversation; till, after waiting for a favour- able opportunity to slip away unobserved, or hoping, equally in vain, that some one would accompany him, and, by sharing, diminish his portion of criticism, he is finally forced, by the announcement of the ladies' carriage — the in- quiries of the children of, " Why Mamma don't come, as they will all be too late" — the question of, how soon dinner may be ordered — the yawns of the company — or the entrance (if in the evening) of a tray full of hand-candle- sticks — to take his leave, under the full con- viction, that, if he does not make haste to close the door, his own ears will be assailed by the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 261 pious, grateful, but grating exclamations of, " Thank God ! he is gone at last." No such exclamation, howev^er, proceeded from the mouth of Mr. Lovaine, as the three gentlemen retired. Some few remarks passed upon the looks of poor Lord K , to whom, in spite of hard hunting, and still harder drink- ing, the gout was no unfrequent visitor. Much pity was bestowed upon Mr. D — , who was to be drao^ged abroad bv his wife and family. And then came Mr. Benson on the tapis. '• Sharp fellow, that friend of your's, Her- bert !" " Sharp fellow!" was not just the epithet that Herbert was accustomed to hear bestowed on this said friend; and he replied, as if not much flattered by the compliment, " He is very much looked up to, Sir, by all tliose who can appreciate him." 262 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. " There, now ! you go too far, I should think. The first time I saw him, I thought he was full of that d — d nonsense that you are so fond of talking sometimes ; but I dare say that little set-down I gave him at your lodging did him good. I should have no objection to see you take a leaf or two out of his book* now and then, Master Herbert,*' That was the unkindest cut of all; for as Herbert had been diligently cutting leaves out of his, and of no other person's book, ever since their first acquaintance, he certainly neither deserved such a reproof, or needed such advice. " Our opinions generally agree particularly well, my dear uncle, upon all subjects." " Well, well ! I am glad to hear it," con- tinued Mr. Lovaine ; " I dare say he will be of great use to you ; and it is always an advan- THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 263 tage to a young man to have a friend a little older and wiser than himself," and so saying, he bade him good night, with a degree of good- humour, that shewed he had never listened to Herbert's arguments with Lord K . Our hero returned leisurely home, ponder- ing over the events of the preceding and many other days. The idea that Mr. Benson should have pleased his uncle, perplexed him : the in- attention and indifference displayed by the former, during dinner, to those topics on which he had always thought him most enthu- siastic, and various other trifling circumstances which had occurred at Mrs. Lawlie's, and which were at the time unheeded, now pressed upon his memory ; and, for the first time, a doubt arose in his mind, whether there was, or was not, some little inconsistency in the character, or at least in the conduct, of Mr. Benson. 264 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. m CHAPTER XIV. We must now quit that emporium of idle- ness and industry — worthlessness and merit — profligacy and morality — learning and igno- rance — poverty and riches — dirt, smoke, noise, grandeur, gloom and gaiety — London ! and remove ourselves to that health-acquiring — gossip-dealing — love-begetting — water-drink- ing place. Spa ! in order that we may not leave our readers for too lons^ a time in iofno- ranee of the deeds^ or misdeeds, of the female part of the Lovaine family. When we last took our leave of Mrs. Lo- vaine, she had just arranged with Lord Golds- borough that he should assist Elinor with his THE. SCHOOL OF FASHION. 265 musical talents in occasional, or, as she hoped, in frequent morning practices. His Lordship was not backward in keeping his engagement; but scarcely were the morn- ing salutations finished— the piano-forte opened — the duet selected — Mrs. Lovaine's musical face put on, and Elinor's cheeks well flushed, when the door opened, and Count Povolowski was announced. Nothing could be more untimely than such a visit in the eyes of Mrs. Lovaine, or a more seasonable respite in those of her daughter. Elinor was, as we before mentioned, far from returning the visible penchaiit that the said Count entertained for her; but as she had no reason to dislike him, as his conversation was lively and agreeable, and above all, as her mother had been in the habit of receiving him with marked civility, she was always glad to VOL. I. N 366 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. see him; moreover, as she saw no reason why Mrs. Lovaine should like him better at Kome %han at Spa, she had no fear of incurring her displeasure by meeting him with the open, good-natured manner so natural to her. She was extremely nervous at the thoughts of sing- ing with Lord Goldsborough, and the pleasure she derived from the interruption he caused, would have almost inclined her to shew un- usual satisfaction at his visit; but Elinor was of too placid a disposition to be very demon- strative, and it would have been difficult for Count Povolowski to have flattered himself that she had evinced towards him any particular mark of regard. She instantly quitted the piano-forte, not exactly comprehending the significant frowns and winks directed to her by Mrs. Lovaine, to shew that she wished her to remain by the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION, 26T in$trumeRt — and — Lord Goldsborough ; who, having bowed with the utmost good-breeding tp the Count, had resumed his former po- sition, t^r Jr Mrs. Lovaine received the Count standing ; hoping that by appearing to look unsettled, or 9S if she was waiting for something, or in other wordsi as if she wanted him gone, he would have the tact to retire ; but she had yet to learn, that there is nothing more destructive to good breeding than love, and that in spite of a man seeing himself de trop with the guar- dian of his mistress^ he is very apt to prefer not deserting his post, and leaving the field open to a real or imaginary rival. At last, turning to his Lordship, and ad- dressing him in French, by way of assisting the intruder to some idea of why his company was not particularly desired at that moment, n8 268 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. Mrs. Lovaine said, " I cannot consent to be deprived of the treat I had proposed to myself, my dear Lord Goldsborough, in hearing that delightful duet of Rossini's ' Ah perdona: " Lord Goldsborough bowed. ' « It is not Rossini's, Mamma ! it is Mo- zart's," replied Elinor : " I never tried it but once, and indeed I cannot sing it at all." « Comment !" exclaimed the Count, " vous faites de la musique quelquefois a cette heure ci ! Ah ! c'est bien mal a vous. Mademoiselle, de m'avoir si souvent refuse le plaisir de vous entendre chanter ! Moi ! qui aime la mu- sique a la folic !" Elinor assured him that this was the first time she had ever thought of attempting a duet, except with her master. Mrs. Lovaine now felt that his departure was hopeless! She was asked by Lord Goldsborough if she THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 269 was acquainted with Weber's last new air: and upon her replying in the negative, he sat himself down to the piano-forte, and volun- teered its performance. Mrs. Lovaine never had heard so pretty a song — so delightfully sung. Elinor thanked him; although she had derived no pleasure (beyond that of a temporary reprieve) from his Lordship's efforts; and the Count, whose ears being more acute, had actually endured pain, remained silent. " Now then, Elinor, if Lord Goldsborough is not tired already, let us have the duet." There was no further excuse for delay. The -symphony was played very ill, by Elinor's trembling hands — both throats were cleared — when the door again opened, and Mr. William De Clifford and his sister were announced. Mrs. Lovaine was by no means an ill- 270 THE SCHOOL OP FASHION. tempered woman ; but there are few who could view, with perfect composure, their little artifices thus knocked on the head by such very untoward circumstances ; and, as she rose to receive her guests, her colour heightened, &nd her manner was, for the moment, cold and ^nbarrassed. But Elinor, leaving Lord Golds- boroii^i without further ceremony or apology, jumped up from her seat, to receive Miss De Clifford, with all the alacrity that the pleasure of her society, and the joy of being let off her practice, could inspire. v^ii.feJ *<> Emily De Clifford was too quick-sighted not to perceive, that there was less than usual suavity in Mrs. Lovaine's manner ; and, guess- ing that their entrance might have been an interruption, she said, half-laughingly, " 1 suspect I have come uninvited to a con- cert, this morning ; but I hope our entrance THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 1^1 is not the signal for its close. Come, Miss Lovaine, I am sure you and Lord Golds- borough were going to perform something together." ih'-rn^rn^-b-i'VToJi^-f vi?v Mrs. Lovaine instantly assured Emily of the truth of her surmises ; but Elinor gave her friend such an imploring look, that Emily, who knew that music was not her fort, did not repeat the request. Lord Goldsborough happened, at that moment, to be informing G>unt Povolowski, in very indifferent French^ of the various merits of an English horse wi«h. which he wished to part, and did not, there- fore, hear this little discussion : but finding the hour later than he had expected, and that the Count was not indisposed to accompany him, for the purpose of viewing the steed in ques- tion, be took his hat, and, with assurances to Mrs. and Miss Lovaine that he should be most 272 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. happy to wait upon them, whenever they were pleased to command him, quitted the room, to the manifest annoyance of the mother, and the almost visible relief of the daughter. When Lord Goldsborough was actually de- parted, and that therefore nothing more could be made of him, the usual politeness of Mrs. Lovaine re-appeared, and she smiled, and talked with Miss De Clifford and her brother ' as much as ever. The young ladies never met without rising in each other's estimation, and their acquaintance was now rapidly ripening into intimacy and friendship. Emily reminded Elinor of her promise to come and visit her in her own little studio, some morning; and a riding expedition was proposed and settled by William De Clifford, ere they quitted Mrs. Lovaine's hotel. When Elinor and her mother were left together, the contre-temp& of the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 2%S J ;o .looHDS Sim '>'^ morning again presented themselves to the mind of the latter ; and though she deemed it more prudent not to impart all her feelings upon the subject of Lord Goldsborough, she could not resist oiFering a few observations on the events of the day. . y. I must say, Elinor, that I never saw a more forward, intrusive man, than that Polish Count — he is always coming when he is sure to be most in the way." *' I always thought, Mamma^ |hat he was a great favourite of yours !" ' ^ " Oh ! no, my love ! never that! I tolerated him when he was less troublesome — but really now he tries my patience too high j^^^ ^^^ ^^^ *' Why, Mamma ? He is surely very plea- sant — at least, every body thought him so at Rome." " Because no pleasanter person was there, I N 5 274 THE SCHOOL CfF FASHIOK. suppose. He really seems to think himself very agreeable ; for he never allovi^s any one here to come near you but himself — I quite pity you for such an infliction !" " Indeed, Mamma, I think you are mis- taken, for I am sure he talks to a great many other people besides me ; and, moreover, he is so very good-natured, that I cannot think him an infliction !" y .» ,, " I entirely disapprove of his attentions to you, Elinor, aadi. I, do ,^ot wish jou to en- courage him." Elinor still denied his preference for her, and still more any wish, on her part, to give him encouragement. ^^^.i^^ " My dear child," said Mrs. Lovaine, softened by these assurances, " great as must be my anxiety at all times for your welfare, it is certainly at this moment doubled, from the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 275 responsibility which the absence of your Papa imposes on me. It is, of course, my duty to do nothing of which he would disapprove ; and I am confident that any connexion with a foreigner, or indeed with any one with whom he was not acquainted, would be highly dis- pleasing to him." '7 *^''^' Never did Elinor feel less inclined to inter- rupt or oppose the fulfilment of her mother's duty. The idea of her connecting herself with any one had never yet entered her head : for although, if she thought at all, she probably thought, like most other young ladies, that she should marry at one time or other, the " when," or the " whom," had certainly not crossed her mind. The very idea of matrimony made her smile as she replied : ** Indeed, dear Mamma, I am not very likely to form any connexion, for a long, long 276 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. while yet, and when I do, you and Papa will choose for me, I dare say, better than I could ever do for myself." Mrs. Lovaine embraced her, and heartily, though secretly, hoped that Elinor's obedience would some day, perhaps ere long, be put suc- cessfully to the test. On the following day the proposed riding party took place. The object of the expedition was a .small town on the confines of the Prus- sian dominions. Its distance from Spa, and the fineness of the weather, determined them to dine there, and to return in the evening. Elinor was not unmindful of her mother's wishes respecting the Count. She had wondered niuch to herself how she was to discourage his attentions, because she was at a loss to remem- ber how she ever had encouraged them ; but the fear of displeasing her mother sharpened THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 277 her powers of perception, and she discovered various little opportunities, in the course of the day, of foiling his undisguised desire to be al- ways at her side. More than once she took advantage of a narrow road to join Lady Mel- rose, or some other lady, when she would otherwise have been left Ute-a-Ute with him ; and she carefully avoided talking more to him than to any other gentleman who chanced to be riding with her at the same time. After dinner the party strolled out on foot till the horses were again in readiness, to dis- cover (if any) the surrounding beauties of the village. As they quitted the inn, Elinor per- ceived the Count's intention of offering her his arm; but she continued a conversation in which she was engaged with Emily De Clifford, as the company paired off, hoping that he would be under the necessity of taking some other lady, 278 THE SCHOOL OF FASHiON. or that some other gentleman would present himself as her escort. In the latter hope she was not disappointed; though her avoidance of Count Povolowski had been conducted with such an appearance of accident, and was so totally free from any breach of civility or good- nature, that it not only escaped the notice of others, but must have appeared doubtful, even to his own mind, whether or not it was inten- tional ; yet there was one upon whom it was not lost. William De Clifford had suspected that the Count was not quite indifferent to Elinor, and was not an unobservant witness of her manner towards him. He never could fix upon any deed or word on her part that justi- fied his suspicion ; but neither had he remarked any thing to contradict it The Count was evidently an agreeable man. He remembered Elinor*s blushes, when on the first day of their THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 279 acquaintance lie alluded to Povolowski's eulo- giura of her. He was sure she was too amiable to trifle with any body's feelings, and that she would not therefore mislead him for the selfish gratification of her own vanity ; and yet his so- ciety never seemed unwelcome to her: in short, he was determined to think Elinor all that was amiable — was rather jealous of the Count, and on the whole was much puzzled. Had he known her better, he would have solved the difficulty by recollecting that she was too young, as yet, in the ways of the world, to do otherwise than act either according to her own feelings at the moment, or according to her mother's orders. She appeared amused because she was so; the amusement was forbidden, and her natural delicacy, as well as the amiability of her cha^ racter, suggested the best means of obedi- ence. 280 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. -..'^' Emmy has no right to take possession of Miss Lovaine in company, as well as in pri-.. vate," said Mr. William de Clifford, drawing towards Elinor, and offering her his arm. They were instantly followed by Lord Goldsborough and Miss De Clifford; and the, unfortunate Count was doomed to that sorry -J place in the rear, so often allotted to unfa- voured suitors, married men, and elderly bachelors ; where, with no other proof that they belong to the gay couples who precede them, than the weight of a shawl or cloak upon their arms, they saunter unamused and unheeded to see some sight, which is, probably, in itself very little worth seeing. Nor, perhaps, was the only Lion recom- mended to them by the dirty " gargon" of the inn, an exception to that class of sights. '^Mais, Mofisieur ! ilfaut voir la campagne de THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 281 Monsieur ; elle est charmante, romanesque, ^^c." induced them to direct their steps towards the said campagtie. The possessor of " Mon Bijou^^ (for such, in the fondness of his heart, was the appellation he had bestowed upon his property,) received them with the utmost urbanit}^ Proud of the wealth acquired by his industry, he was prouder still of the taste he had displayed in its dis- posal. In front of the house a square pond, of just such dimensions as are generally thought ab- solutely necessary for the preservation and comfort of ducks, served to float a miniature of Cleopatra's barge, and to surround an oil- cloth Grecian temple, richl}' ornamented with designs from the Roman history. Lest, how- ever, the votaries of the goddess in whose honour the temple was erected should prefer reaching the island by land, a Chinese bridge 282 THE 8CHrx>L OF FASZIION. 6f at least six feet in length, and from the bar lustrades of which ro«e two rich pagodas, was providefl. Nor was the luxurious display of his taste less visible in the half acre of parterre which formed the hack-ground to his mansion. Small serpentine walks leading to rustic bridges built over dry land — straight narrow paths leading to obelisks far broader than themselves — sta- tues — ' pyramids — swings — gazebos — merry- go-rounds, &:c. &:c. &c. all c^mtributed to charm the eye, and diversify the amusements and pursuits of their owner. '* One might almost fancy oneVself in Eng- land,** observed Mr. Mordaunt to Emily De Clifford; " I have seen nothing to equal the l)eauty of this romantic spot since tlie last time I passed along the City Road." Emily smiled, and said she rejoiced to find that Cockney taste was not confined to THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 283 Cockney-land ; but Lord Goldsborough, wlio, though not very " literate," was very " literal,*' immediately proceeded to give his opinion upon the various defects of taste which his superior refinement suggested to him, as ex- hibited by the proprietor of the gardens. He tliought there was great ignorance in having a Chinese bridge to communicate witli a Grecian temple, because, as there were probably no Chinese in the time of the Greeks, or as, at any rate, the Greeks could never have heard of their existence, they could not possibly have copied their style of architecture. Emily could scarcely refrain from smiling at this display of his Lordsliip's taste and learn- ing, as she glanced her eye towards her bro- ther, who happened to be standing within hearing, and upon whom also the remark was not lost. Upon Elinor's countenance the brother and 284 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. sister sought in vain for the expression of a similar feeling to their own. So far from ap- pearing to have participated in their o^^^l quick perception of the ridicule and pomp of Lord Goldsborough's speech and manner, she looked intently upon a pebble, which she gently, but industriously, moved backwards and forwards with her foot, as if unconscious of what was passing : she w^as, however, at that moment thinking whether it was not possible that her mother might be mistaken in considering Lord Goldsborough so much above par in point of intellect, as %vell as in more solid considera- tions. But, long before she had time to come to any conclusion upon this subject, her medi- tations were disturbed by their departure from the \dlla ; and she quickly forgot, in the agree- able conversation of William De Clifford, the very existence of Lord Goldsborough. Never had she spent a happier day: most of the THE SCHOOL OF FASHION^ 285 party had been in good-humour; the ride had been pretty, the weather pleasant, and she re- tui-ned home in unwonted spirits to her anx- ious parent, whose mind had been busily em- ployed all day in settling the probable order in which the equestrians were riding. The satisfactory answers of Elinor respect- ing her conduct towards the Count, and the proofs she gave of its success, delighted Mrs. Lovaine, who could not help exclaiming, " So, my dear, you really avoided having him by your side all day !" . .ii:,c,iO.: .:,,;. " Yes, Mamma," replied EHnor, " I did just what I thought you wished me to do, and all without being in the least uncivil.'" " Well, my love, and I dare say you found Lord Goldsborough very agreeable," continued she, no longer able to conceal her impa^ tience. c, ." I saw no difference in Lord Goldsborough, 286 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. my dear Mamma, Was there any reason why I should do so ?" " Certainly, because you had, I conclude, some opportunity of conversing with him to- day, as Count Povolowski chose at last to jdlow other people to speak to you as well as himself. Did not Lord Goldsborough ride with you the greater part of the day?" " Oh dear no !" replied Elinor, who saw no reason why his Lordship should be expected to have bestowed so much of his precious time and conversation upon her. He rode very little with me; indeed, I don't know with whom he was riding the greater part of the day." " And pray, my dear, where were you, that you were so unconscious of the rest of the party ?'* " I was not unconscious of the movements THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. 28T of those who rode before me ; but we vfete :a numerous cavalcade to-day, and Lord Golds- borough was, I believe, amongst those who were behind our party." ■■■ '* And of whom consisted what you call your party?" '''•« Oh ! the De Cliffords, Mr. Mordaunt, Mr. Gordon, and one or two more ; and Lady Melrose who was our chaperon. We have had such a charming expedition ! I wish. Mamma, you could ride ; I am sure you would have en- joyed it to-day. Every body said it was plea- sant, and both Mr. De Clifford and myself agreed we never had spent so delightful a day." Mrs. Lovaine said but little in reply to this glowing description of her daughter's pleasure; her own had just been spoilt by perceiving a total indisposition on the part of Elinor, if not of Lord Goldsborough also, to forward her 288 THE SCHOOL OF FASHION. plan for their mutual happiness^ by remaining perfectly indifferent to each other ; and she was the more vexed and disappointed, as it was evident that Elinor's obedience with respect to the Count had not advanced the wished-for flirtation with Lord Goldsborough, and had made way for the dreaded one with William De Clifford. How to act was very difficult ; it never would do for Elinor to have no admirers, and yet if she was made to cut the two she had, and the one she had not continued blind to his in- terests, such would inevitably be her condi- tion. END OF VOL. I. LOXDOX : J. L. Cc\, Printer, Great Queen Street- mL V