Tales and Novels Volume III Part 17

The baronet vibrated for some time between the fear of being taken in by one of Mrs. Stanhope's nieces, and the hope of triumphing over Clarence Hervey. At last, what he called love prevailed over prudence, and he was resolved, cost him what it would, to have Belinda Portman. He had not the least doubt of being accepted, if he made a proposal of marriage; consequently, the moment that he came to this determination, he could not help a.s.suming _d'avance_ the tone of a favoured lover.

"Damme," cried Sir Philip, one night, at Lady Delacour's concert, "I think that Mr. Hervey has taken out a patent for talking to Miss Portman; but damme if I give up this place, now I have got it," cried the baronet, seating himself beside Belinda.

Mr. Hervey did not contest his seat, and Sir Philip kept his post during the remainder of the concert; but, though he had the field entirely to himself, he could not think of any thing more interesting, more amusing, to whisper in Belinda's ear, than, "Don't you think the candles want snuffing famously?"

CHAPTER XII.

THE MACAW.

The baronet determined the next day upon the grand attack. He waited upon Miss Portman with the certainty of being favourably received; but he was, nevertheless, somewhat embarra.s.sed to know how to begin the conversation, when he found himself alone with the lady.

He twirled and twisted a short stick that he held in his hand, and put it into and out of his boot twenty times, and at last he began with--"Lady Delacour's not gone to Harrowgate yet?"

"No: her ladys.h.i.+p has not yet felt herself well enough to undertake the journey."

"That was a cursed unlucky overturn! She may thank Clarence Hervey for that: it's like him,--he thinks he's a better judge of horses, and wine, and every thing else, than any body in the world. Damme, now if I don't believe he thinks n.o.body else but himself has eyes enough to see that a fine woman's a fine woman; but I'd have him to know, that Miss Belinda Portman has been Sir Philip Baddely's toast these two months."

As this intelligence did not seem to make the expected impression upon Miss Belinda Portman, Sir Philip had recourse again to his little stick, with which he went through the sword exercise. After a silence of some minutes, and after walking to the window, and back again, as if to look for sense, he exclaimed, "How is Mrs. Stanhope now, pray, Miss Portman?

and your sister, Mrs. Tollemache? she was the finest woman, I thought, the first winter she came out, that ever I saw, damme. Have you ever been told that you're like her?"

"Never, sir."

"Oh, d.a.m.n it then, but you are; only ten times handsomer."

"Ten times handsomer than the finest woman you ever saw, Sir Philip?"

said Belinda, smiling.

"Than the finest woman I had ever seen _then_," said Sir Philip; "for, damme, I did not know what it was to be in love _then_" (here the baronet heaved an audible sigh): "I always laughed at love, and all that, _then_, and marriage particularly. I'll trouble you for Mrs.

Stanhope's direction, Miss Portman; I believe, to do the thing in style, I ought to write to her before I speak to you."

Belinda looked at him with astonishment; and laying down the pencil with which she had just begun to write a direction to Mrs. Stanhope, she said, "Perhaps, Sir Philip, to _do the thing in style_, I ought to pretend at this instant not to understand you; but such false delicacy might mislead you: permit me, therefore, to say, that if I have any concern in the letter which you, are going to write to my aunt Stanhope----"

"Well guessed!" interrupted Sir Philip: "to be sure you have, and you're a charming girl--d.a.m.n me if you aren't--for meeting my ideas in this way, which will save a cursed deal of trouble," added the polite lover, seating himself on the sofa, beside Belinda.

"To prevent your giving yourself any further trouble then, sir, on my account," said Miss Portman----

"Nay, damme, don't catch at that unlucky word, trouble, nor look so cursed angry; though it becomes you, too, uncommonly, and I like pride in a handsome woman, if it was only for variety's sake, for it's not what one meets with often, now-a-days. As to trouble, all I meant was, the trouble of writing to Mrs. Stanhope, which of course I thank you for saving me; for to be sure, I'd rather (and you can't blame me for that) have my answer from your own charming lips, if it was only for the pleasure of seeing you blush in this heavenly sort of style."

"To put an end to this heavenly sort of style, sir," said Belinda, withdrawing her hand, which the baronet took as if he was confident of its being his willing prize, "I must explicitly a.s.sure you, that it is not in my power to encourage your addresses. I am fully sensible," added Miss Portman, "of the honour Sir Philip Baddely has done me, and I hope he will not be offended by the frankness of my answer."

"You can't be in earnest, Miss Portman!" exclaimed the astonished baronet.

"Perfectly in earnest, Sir Philip."

"Confusion seize me," cried he, starting up, "if this isn't the most extraordinary thing I ever heard! Will you do me the honour, madam, to let me know your particular objections to Sir Philip Baddely?"

"My objections," said Belinda, "cannot be obviated, and therefore it would be useless to state them."

"Nay, pray, ma'am, do me the favour--I only ask for information sake--is it to Sir Philip Baddely's fortune, 15,000l. a year, you object, or to his family, or to his person?--Oh, curse it!" said he, changing his tone, "you're only quizzing me to see how I should look--d.a.m.n me, you did it too well, you little coquet!"

Belinda again a.s.sured him that she was entirely in earnest, and that she was incapable of the sort of coquetry which he ascribed to her.

"Oh, damme, ma'am, then I've no more to say--a coquet is a thing I understand as well as another, and if we had been only talking in the air, it would have been another thing; but when I come at once to a proposal in form, and a woman seriously tells me she has objections that cannot be obviated, damme, what must I, or what must the world conclude, but that she's very unaccountable, or that she's engaged--which last I presume to be the case, and it would have been a satisfaction to me to have known it sooner--at any rate, it is a satisfaction to me to know it now."

"I am sorry to deprive you of so much satisfaction," said Miss Portman, "by a.s.suring you, that I am not engaged to any one."

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Lord Delacour, who came to inquire of Miss Portman how his lady did. The baronet, after twisting his little black stick into all manner of shapes, finished by breaking it, and then having no other resource, suddenly wished Miss Portman a good morning, and decamped with a look of silly ill-humour. He was determined to write to Mrs. Stanhope, whose influence over her niece he had no doubt would be decisive in his favour. "Sir Philip seems to be a little out of sorts this morning," said Lord Delacour: "I am afraid he's angry with me for interrupting his conversation; but really I did not know he was here, and I wanted to catch you a moment alone, that I might, in the first place, thank you for all your goodness to Lady Delacour. She has had a tedious sprain of it; these nervous fevers and convulsions--I don't understand them, but I think Dr. X----'s prescriptions seem to have done her good, for she is certainly better of late, and I am glad to hear music and people again in the house, because I know all this is what my Lady Delacour likes, and there is no reasonable indulgence that I would not willingly allow a wife; but I think there is a medium in all things. I am not a man to be governed by a wife, and when I have once said a thing, I like to be steady and always shall. And I am sure Miss Portman has too much good sense to think me wrong: for now, Miss Portman, in that quarrel about the coach and horses, which you heard part of one morning at breakfast--I must tell you the beginning of that quarrel."

"Excuse me, my lord, but I would rather hear of the end than of the beginning of quarrels."

"That shows your good sense as well as your good nature. I wish you could make my Lady Delacour of your taste--she does not want sense--but then (I speak to you freely of all that lies upon my mind, Miss Portman, for I know--I _know_ you have no delight in making mischief in a house,) between you and me, her sense is not of the right kind. A woman may have too much wit--now too much is as bad as too little, and in a woman, worse; and when two people come to quarrel, then wit on either side, but more especially on the wife's, you know is very provoking--'tis like concealed weapons, which are wisely forbidden by law. If a person kill another in a fray, with a concealed weapon, ma'am, by a sword in a cane, for instance, 'tis murder by the law. Now even if it were not contrary to law, I would never have such a thing in my cane to carry about with me; for when a man's in a pa.s.sion he forgets every thing, and would as soon lay about him with a sword as with a cane: so it is better such a thing should not be in his power. And it is the same with wit, which would be safest and best out of the power of some people."

"But is it fair, my lord, to make use of wit yourself to abuse wit in others?" said Belinda with a smile, which put his lords.h.i.+p into perfect good-humour with both himself and his lady.

"Why, really," said he, "there would be no living with Lady Delacour, if I did not come out with a little sly bit of wit now and then; but it is what I am not in the habit of doing, I a.s.sure you, except when very hard pushed. But, Miss Portman, as you like so much to hear the end of quarrels, here's the end of one which you have a particular right to hear something of," continued his lords.h.i.+p, taking out his pocket-book and producing some bank-notes: "you should have received this before, madam, if I had known of the transaction sooner--of your part of it, I mean."

"Milord, de man call to speak about de burgundy you order, milord," said Champfort, who came into the room with a sly, inquisitive face.

"Tell him I'll see him immediately--show him into the parlour, and give him a newspaper to read."

"Yes, milord--milord has it in his pocket since he dress."

"Here it is," said his lords.h.i.+p; and as Champfort came forward to receive the newspaper, his eye glanced at the bank-notes, and then at Miss Portman.

"Here," continued Lord Delacour, as Champfort had left the room, "here are your two hundred guineas, Miss Portman; and as I am going to this man about my burgundy, and shall be out all the rest of the day, let me trouble you the next time you see Lady Delacour to give her this pocket-book from me. I should be sorry that Miss Portman, from any thing that has pa.s.sed, should run away with the idea that I am a n.i.g.g.ardly husband, or a tyrant, though I certainly like to be master in my own house. What are you doing, madam?--that is your note, that does not go into the pocket-book, you know."

"Permit me to put it in, my lord," said Belinda, returning the pocket-book to him, "and to beg you will give Lady Delacour the pleasure of seeing you: she has inquired several times whether your lords.h.i.+p were at home. I will run up to her dressing-room, and tell her that you are here."

"How lightly she goes on the wings of good-nature!" said Lord Delacour.

"I can do no less than follow her; for though I like to be treated with respect in my own house, there is a time for every thing. I would not give Lady Delacour the trouble of coming down here to me with her sprained ankle, especially as she has inquired for me several times."

His lords.h.i.+p's visit was not of unseasonable length; for he recollected that the man who came about the burgundy was waiting for him. But, perhaps, the shortness of the visit rendered it the more pleasing, for Lady Delacour afterward said to Belinda, "My dear, would you believe it, my Lord Delacour was absolutely a perfect example of the useful and agreeable this morning--who knows but he may become the sublime and beautiful in time? _En attendant_ here are your two hundred guineas, my dear Belinda: a thousand thanks for the thing, and a million for the manner--manner is all in all in conferring favours. My lord, who, to do him justice, has too much honesty to pretend to more delicacy than he really possesses, told me that he had been taking a lesson from Miss Portman this morning in the art of obliging; and really, for a grown gentleman, and for the first lesson, he comes on surprisingly. I do think, that by the time he is a widower his lords.h.i.+p will be quite another thing, quite an agreeable man--not a genius, not a Clarence Hervey--that you cannot expect. Apropos, what is the reason that we have seen so little of Clarence Hervey lately? He has certainly some secret attraction elsewhere. It cannot be that girl Sir Philip mentioned; no, she's nothing new. Can it be at Lady Anne Percival's?--or where can it be? Whenever he sees me, I think he asks when we go to Harrowgate. Now Oakly-park is within a few miles of Harrowgate. I will not go there, that's decided. Lady Anne is an exemplary matron, so she is out of the case; but I hope she has no _sister excellence_, no niece, no cousin, to entangle our hero."

"Ours!" said Belinda.

"Well, _yours_, then," said Lady Delacour.

"Mine!"

"Yes, yours: I never in my life saw a better struggle between a sigh and a smile. But what have you done to poor Sir Philip Baddely? My Lord Delacour told me--you know all people who have nothing else to say, tell news quicker than others--my Lord Delacour told me, that he saw Sir Philip part from you this morning in a terrible bad humour. Come, whilst you tell your story, help me to string these pearls; that will save you from the necessity of looking at me, and will conceal your blushes: you need not be afraid of betraying Sir Philip's secrets; for I could have told you long ago, that he would inevitably propose for you--the fact is nothing new or surprising to me, but I should really like to hear how ridiculous the man made himself."

"And that," said Belinda, "is the only thing which I do not wish to tell your ladys.h.i.+p."

"Lord, my dear, surely it is no secret that Sir Philip Baddely is ridiculous; but you are so good-natured that I can't be out of humour with you. If you won't gratify my curiosity, will you gratify my taste, and sing for me once more that charming song which none but you _can_ sing to please me?--I must learn it from you, absolutely."