CHAPTER XVII.

Previous
Alquanto malagevole ed aspretta,
Per mezzo im bosco presero la via,
Che, oltra che sassosa fosse e stretta,
Quasi su dritta alla collina gia.
Ma poiche furo ascesi in su la belta
Usciro in spaziosa pratiera—
Dover il piu bel Palazzo e'l piu giocondo,
Vider che mai fosse vecluto al mondo.[13]
Orlando Furioso.

In proportion as Mrs. Galton and Augustus approached Eltondale, their regrets increased from their anticipation of so soon parting with Selina; whilst, on the contrary, her spirits seemed to rise with the varying scene. Almost every object was new to her, and, as such, was a fresh source of enjoyment. It would be impossible to describe Selina's astonishment when she entered Leeds. She had never before been in any large town; for though York was within thirty miles of the Hall, it had been, in point of intercourse, as much beyond Sir Henry's circle as London itself. The throng of people, the constant bustle of passengers, the gaiety of the shops, and above all the comfort, and even elegance of the hotel where they slept—were all to her subjects of agreeable surprise. Even the rapid motion of the carriage whirled on by the post horses, whose pace was so different from the sober gait of poor Sir Henry's antiquated steeds, animated and delighted her. And will the confession be forgiven?—such was her ignorance, or perhaps her frivolity, that she not only felt, but was vulgar enough to acknowledge a childish pleasure in the races the postillions frequently entered into with the stage coaches. Augustus was enchanted with the naÏvetÉ of her observations, and gazed with delight on her sparkling eyes and changing colour, which needed no interpreter to express her varying emotions. But Mrs. Galton sighed to think how that pliability of disposition, that now rendered her so bewitching to others, might hereafter become dangerous to herself. Lady Eltondale, finding Mrs. Galton and Mordaunt were determined to accompany Selina to the end of her journey, had written a polite invitation to them to remain at her house some days; but they had both resolved not to avail themselves of this tardy civility, even for one night; however, unforeseen delays having occurred, they did not reach Eltondale till past nine o'clock in the evening. It was a dark stormy night; the wind, which blew in tremendous gusts, had extinguished the lamps of the carriage, and they with difficulty found their way through a thick wood, that climbed the side of a hill on which the house was situated; but when they emerged from this Cimmerian darkness, the superb mansion broke upon their view in an unbroken blaze of light. The exterior rivalled the elegance of an Italian villa from the lightness of its porticoes, the regularity of its colonnades, and the symmetry of its whole proportion. Nor was the interior less elegant. Almost before the carriage reached the steps of the porch, the ready doors flew open, and a crowd of servants welcomed their approach: and such was the brilliancy of the scene into which they were thus suddenly introduced, that it was some minutes before the travellers could face the dazzling glare of this sudden day. When, however, they were enabled to look round, the coup d'oeil called forth involuntary admiration. Three halls, en suite, lay open before them, all illuminated, particularly the centre one, which contained a light stone stair-case, that wound round a dome to the top of the house, only interrupted by galleries that corresponded to the different floors. Out of the hall in which they stood, a conservatory stretched its length of luxuriant sweetness. The roses, that were trained over its trellised arches, were in full blow, and formed a beautiful contrast to the icicles that hung on the outside of the windows, whilst the blooming garden itself was equally contrasted by the winter clothing of the adjoining halls. In them large blazing fires gave both light and heat; whilst thick Turkey carpets, bearskin rugs, and cloth curtains to every door, bid defiance to the inclemency of the severest season.

Before Selina had time to express half her rapture and surprise, the Alcina of this enchanted palace approached to welcome them. And such was the elegance, the fascination of Lady Eltondale's address, particularly to Mrs. Galton and Augustus, that they for a moment almost doubted whether they had indeed rightly understood her prohibitory letter. Lord Eltondale had not yet left the dinner table; but the moment he heard of the arrival of his guests, he bustled out, napkin in hand, to bellow forth his boisterous welcome: "Gad, I'm glad to see ye all. How do? how do? Why, Mrs. Galton, you're thinner than ever; but this is capital fattening ground. Selina, my girl, what have you done with the rosy cheeks you had last summer? Come, child, don't cry; you know you could not expect Sir Henry to live for ever—and you've plenty of cash, eh?" Lady Eltondale, perceiving her Lord's condolences by no means assuaged Selina's tears, took hold of her hand and that of Mrs. Galton, and with a kindness much more effectual, though perhaps not more sincere, led them away from her unconscious Lord, who, without waiting for reply or excuse, seized Mordaunt by the arm, and dragged him into the eating parlour, as he said, "to drink the ladies' health in a bottle of the best Burgundy he ever tasted."

The drawing-room, to which Lady Eltondale introduced her guests, was perfectly consistent with its beautiful entrance, for here,

in short, all that taste and extravagance could procure to combine comfort and elegance.

Before Lady Eltondale drew aside the curtain that screened the door of the anteroom, a few chords on the harp were distinguished—and on entering the apartment they perceived two ladies. One was an old woman, dressed in mourning, with a large black bonnet, which almost entirely concealed her face, whom Lady Eltondale introduced as Lady Hammersley. She looked up, for a moment, from a book she appeared to be perusing intently, and after saluting the strangers with an obsequious inclination of the head, resumed her studies in silence. The other lady, who was reclining against the harp, was dressed in the extreme of French fashion. Her face, though not youthful, appeared, at that distance, handsome, from the judicious arrangement of white and red, with which it was covered. But a closer inspection proved the only charms it could really boast were a pair of large black eyes, that could assume any requisite expression, and a set of teeth, which, whether natural or artificial, were certainly beautiful. Her dark hair was crowned with a wreath of roses en corbeille, the colour of her cheeks; and her tall slim figure was covered, not concealed, by a loose muslin robe À la Diane.

At first the Viscountess took no notice of the fair minstrel; but having placed Mrs. Galton close to the fire in a Roman chair, and ordered coffee, and an opera basket for her feet, she drew Selina's arm through her own, and, approaching the stranger, addressed her, saying, "At last, Mademoiselle Omphalie, here is my niece: have I said too much of her?" "Ah! mon Dieu, qu'elle est belle!" returned the complaisant foreigner. "Ma foi, elle est fail À peindre.[14] Ma chÈre young ladi, ve must be ver good friends: I am positive I shall dote a you." So saying, she held out her hand to Selina, who returned the proffered courtesy with a glow of gratitude for the unexpected kindness. But the Viscountess did not give her niece time to profit much by the stranger's civility. She just happened to recollect, that Selina's furs were unnecessary in her ladyship's drawing-room, and proposed to the travellers to have them introduced to their apartments, which they gladly acceded to. But here a new fashion struck their wondering eyes. The Viscountess desired her footmen to send "Argant" to show the rooms. Mrs. Galton and Selina ignorantly imagined they were to be consigned to the care of a house-maid. What then was their dismay, when a Swiss groom of the chambers made his appearance, with their wax tapers, and escorted them, not only to their rooms, which adjoined each other, but familiarly entered the apartments with them; and having deliberately lighted the candles on their respective toilets, with a thousand shrugs and grimaces asked, "Si mesdames lui permettront l'honneur d'Ôter leurs pelisses[15]?" When he had at last retired, Mrs. Galton could no longer suppress her feelings; the tears trickled down her cheeks as she clasped Selina to her bosom, with a fearful anticipation of the trials and temptations, a scene so new and so bewitching was likely to offer to a girl so totally inexperienced. But unwilling, unnecessarily, to damp the dear girl's spirits, which were already fluttering between joy and sorrow, she attributed her depression solely to the idea of so soon parting with her, as she had fixed to leave Eltondale with Augustus very early the following morning. When the two ladies returned to the drawing room, they found the gentlemen had joined the party. Besides Lord Eltondale and Mordaunt, the circle was enlarged by Sir Robert Hammersley, an old fat Scotch admiral, and his son, who had thrown himself, at full length, on a sofa, listening to an Italian arietta, that Mademoiselle Omphalie was warbling forth in "liquid sweetness long drawn out," whilst he occasionally interrupted her finest cadences with an audible yawn, or an almost unintelligible "brava." Lady Eltondale, Lady Hammersley, and Mrs. Galton formed a group together, and entered into general conversation, while Sir Robert and his host were warmly engaged in continuing a political dispute. Selina remained attentively listening to the delightful harmony of Mademoiselle Omphalie's melodious voice, till at length her eye meeting that of Mordaunt, which rested solely on hers, her expressive countenance told him in a moment all her admiration and delight. He softly approached her, and, leaning over her chair, said, in a low tone, "All these new pleasures will soon make you forget——I mean you will scarcely have time to think of Yorkshire." She turned her beautiful face towards him, with an expression of melancholy and surprise, but meeting his speaking glance, she hastily withdrew her eyes, and coloured, with an ill defined feeling of painful pleasure: some flowers, that she had inconsiderately taken from a china vase, that stood on a table near her, suffered from her agitation, as she unconsciously scattered some of the myrtle leaves on the floor. Augustus picked up one of the fallen branches, and, looking at Selina, "Je ne change qu'en mourant," said he, with an emphasis that seemed to apply the motto in more ways than to the leaf he held. Selina's confusion increased, and a tear stood on her long eye-lashes, but before she could articulate the half formed sentence that trembled on her lip, Lady Eltondale advanced to the table, and abruptly asked her to give her opinion of some drawings that were scattered about it; and so completely did she monopolize her for the remainder of the evening, that she had not again an opportunity of speaking to Augustus. When, however, the company were separating for the night, he advanced to ask if she had any further commands for him; but, with a trepidation she did not wait to analyse, she postponed her adieus, entreating him not to say farewell then, as she meant certainly to be up long before Mrs. Galton and he would leave Eltondale in the morning.

END OF VOL. I.


[1] "What do you say to that?"—"I say such recitals are only fit to sleep over."

[2] When fools would avoid one extreme, they run into the other.

[3] Matter of fact.

[4]

And by her walk the queen of love is known.
Dryden.

[5] To do nothing in always doing nothings.

[6] Tell me with whom she goes, and I'll tell you what she does.

[7] Laughing Venus, encircled by Love and Joy.

[8]

From mem'ry's length'ning chain to part
The object that we love,
How vain the pang that rends the heart,
What fruitless grief we prove!
The dear idea, cherish'd yet,
Returns still o'er and o'er,
And thinking that we should forget,
Impresses it the more.

[9] Who timidly asks teaches to deny.

[10]

Sicilian muse, begin a loftier strain;
The lowly shrubs and trees that shade the plain
Delight not all.
Dryden.

[11] Pointing to the chalking on the floor.

[12] Grace more lovely than beauty.

[13] No doubt most of my readers will prefer their own translations of my mottoes to any I could offer them; but for those who choose to avoid this trouble, I add my imitations, which claim no other merit than that of giving a general idea of the spirit of the original passage.

They through the wood their path descried,
Which climb'd the shaggy mountain's side;
Dark, narrow was the winding way,
O'er many a piercing stone it lay.
But when they left the forest's shade,
A spacious platform stood display'd,
On which a palace rose in sight,
The smiling scene of gay delight.

[14] "Ah! how beautiful she is!" "She is divinely formed."

[15] "If the ladies would allow him to take off their pelisses."


Printed by S. Hamilton, Weybridge, Surrey.


[Transcriber's Note: Hyphen variations within volume and between volumes left as printed.]


Books published by Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy.

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