Mrs. Loudon

“This is thy
Birth-day, and thou must be the little idol
Of the festival.”

In the mean time preparations of every kind were making for Lady L.’s expected confinement. The doctor had an apartment assigned him, and now lived at Lodore House, lest his attendance should be a moment too late. A respectable woman, of approved abilities, arrived all the way from Edinburgh. She was provided with an assistant under-nurse from Keswick, and both established at Lodore. Offerings too, at the shrine of the expected stranger, made their appearance every day. A splendid set of caudle-cups, of very curious china, was sent from London by Lady Theodosia R., a sister of Lord L. A set of baby-linen, of needle-work the most exquisite, arrived from Scotland, sent by Major Morven, a rather elderly bachelor-brother of Mrs. Montgomery’s. The major mentioned in his letter, that, as he did not understand those things himself, he had had them chosen by a committee of ladies, the best judges in Edinburgh.

Many, indeed, were the little, very little things, which came from various quarters, more than we entirely understand ourselves; but every band-box that was opened produced something little, so that it seemed a sort of importation from the Liliputian world. Little hats of white beaver, like snow-balls, in which, however, little plumes were not forgotten. Little caps, little bonnets, and even little shoes, wrapped in silver paper. In short, there was nothing big, but the good woman from Edinburgh, and Major Morven. The major came to be in time for the christening, as he was to be one of the sponsors.

At length another little arrival took place, and a beautiful little girl commenced her earthly pilgrimage. Quickly was the young stranger dressed in the raiment of needle-work, and carried by its grandmamma, and followed by its nurse, to the drawing-room, there to receive the caresses, and claim the admiration of its happy papa. There also was Edmund, wondering much at the bustle, and at his lessons having been entirely omitted. His ecstacies of delight and astonishment on seeing the baby were so great, and his entreaties so eager, first to be allowed to look at, then to touch this quite new object of wonder, all the time trying each expedient to add to his height, now leaping straight up, now climbing the chair nearest to Lord L., then the arm of the sofa, and, finally, the sofa-table itself, to the imminent danger of his neck, that Mrs. Montgomery was at length induced, after making him sit down on the said table, to hold the infant, for a second or two, across his knees.

During those seconds it was, we have good reason to believe, that the first idea of self-importance ever entertained by our hero, entered his mind: it accompanied the proud consciousness of fancying that he afforded support to a creature more helpless than himself. He touched its soft cheek, then its miniature hand, which soon began to close itself round his finger, in the manner that infants do. It seemed to Edmund, as though his caresses were kindly returned. His little heart overflowed with fondness. He looked up, his face beaming with delight, and asked if he might kiss the darling little baby.

“A pretty bold request indeed!” said Lord L., laughing, “kiss my eldest daughter, you urchin.”

Mrs. Montgomery, laughing also, told him he might, and Edmund accordingly approached his rosy lips to those of his precious charge, with, however, the greatest gentleness, lest, as he said, he should hurt it.

Mrs. Montgomery, on her return back from the drawing-room, was much surprised to hear the cry of an infant inside her daughter’s apartment, while she herself, if she were not dreaming, held the baby in her own arms, outside the door. The fact was, an occurrence had taken place, which, with all their preparation, they were not at all prepared for. A second little girl had made her appearance. Two dress caps, certainly, had been provided, one with a cockade for a boy, the other with a suitable rosette for a girl, in case of such a contingency (and bad enough in all conscience) as that of the child being a girl, after doctor, nurse, servants, tenants, and indeed every one knowing perfectly well that it would be a boy, but two girls never had been so much as thought of. The elder young lady, therefore, by three-quarters of an hour, being already in possession of the girl’s rosette, the younger was obliged to make her first public appearance in this world of vanities, figuring in a boy’s cockade.

To prevent, however, a serious disappointment on the part of Lord L., an explanatory message was sent to him before she was permitted to enter the drawing-room. There was but one child’s nurse, too; but what with grandmamma’s help, and good Mrs. Smyth’s assistance, and Edmund’s, which he judicially afforded, by running under every body’s feet who carried a baby, they contrived to manage till a second nurse could be procured.

We speak of nurses under certain limitations; for Lady L. had been too well instructed by her mother, in every right sentiment, to meditate for a moment depriving her infants of the nutriment nature had ordained for them.

The doctor, as soon as he thought he could venture to assert that there would be no more, either boys or girls, frisked into the drawing-room, rubbing his hands, and smiling with perfect satisfaction.

“I give your lordship,” he said, “joy, twice told! twice told! I believe I am justified in so doing on the present twofold occasion. Twofold, heigh? twofold it certainly is, literally so, and twofold should be our rejoicing; else are we ungrateful for the bounty of Providence, and the liberality of nature! Liberality of nature, heigh?”

“But—,” said his lordship, with a countenance of some anxiety.

“We did not anticipate this, sir,” continued the doctor, “this is a contingency that we did not anticipate.”

“Pray—,” recommenced Lord L., making a fresh effort to be heard; but the doctor proceeded.

“Two beautiful girls, upon my life—beautiful! I already see future conquests sparkling in their eyes!”

“Are you sure, doctor,” asked the major, “there won’t be any more? A boy now, eh? Girls first: all right that—Place aux dames.”

“The next,” proceeded the doctor, still addressing Lord L., “shall be a boy. At present two belles have been sent us, and we should make them joy belles! eh? Come, that’s rather good, a’n’t it?” And with his usual pirouette, he flung himself on the sofa beside the major, threw one leg across the other, and with his head a little back, and on one side, looked up and smiled with entire self-complacency.

Mrs. Montgomery now appeared at the door, to give Lord L. the long-wished-for summons; which he obeyed on tip-toe.

“From Scotland, I presume, sir?” said the doctor to his neighbour on the sofa.

“Ee noo, sir,” replied the major; “bit hoo did ye ken I cam frae Scotland? No by my speech, I reckon.”

“Oh, sir, the name—the name,” returned the doctor, a little disconcerted.

“Morven is a weel kent name, dootless,” rejoined the man of war; “and for my speech, I should tack ney sham that it savoured o’ the land o’ my nativity, provided sic was the case; bit it fell oot, that being much wee my regiment, on the sarvice o’ his Majesty, I ha’ been full saxteen year o’ my life oot o’ Scotland; se that noo, when I gang to Lunnon, ne body kens me till be a Scotchman: that is, by my speech. Bit ne’ doot—”

Here the doctor, who had kept silence unusually long (perhaps from admiration of the major’s pure English), interrupted his companion, to descant on use or custom being second nature, &c. And the major being one of the many who never listen to anybody’s speeches but their own, leaned back on the sofa, and fell asleep.