CHAPTER XIV.
BEING A CHAPTER OF TRIFLES.
THE Abby disappeared! It is astonishing how well everybody bore hisdeparture. My mother scarcely spoke on the subject; but along theirrefragable smoothness of her temperament all things glided withoutresistance to their course, or trace where they had been. Gerald, who,occupied solely in rural sports or rustic loves, seldom mingled in thefestivities of the house, was equally silent on the subject. Aubreylooked grieved for a day or two: but his countenance soon settled intoits customary and grave softness; and, in less than a week, so littlewas the Abbe spoken of or missed that you would scarcely have imaginedJulian Montreuil had ever passed the threshold of our gate. The oblivionof one buried is nothing to the oblivion of one disgraced.
Meanwhile I pressed for my departure; and, at length, the day wasfinally fixed. Ever since that conversation with Lady Hasseltonwhich has been set before the reader, that lady had lingered andlingered--though the house was growing empty, and London, in allseasons, was, according to her, better than the country in any--untilthe Count Devereux, with that amiable modesty which so especiallycharacterized him, began to suspect that the Lady Hasselton lingered onhis account. This emboldened that bashful personage to press in earnestfor the fourth seat in the beauty's carriage, which we have seen inthe conversation before mentioned had been previously offered to himin jest. After a great affectation of horror at the proposal, the LadyHasselton yielded. She had always, she said, been dotingly fond ofchildren, and it was certainly very shocking to send such a chit as thelittle Count to London by himself.
My uncle was charmed with the arrangement. The beauty was a peculiarfavourite of his, and, in fact, he was sometimes pleased to hint that hehad private reasons for love towards her mother's daughter. Of the truthof this insinuation I am, however, more than somewhat suspicious, andbelieve it was only a little ruse of the good knight, in order to excusethe vent of those kindly affections with which (while the heartless toneof the company his youth had frequented made him ashamed to own it) hisbreast overflowed. There was in Lady Hasselton's familiarity--her easeof manner--a certain good-nature mingled with her affectation, and agayety of spirit, which never flagged,--something greatly calculated towin favour with a man of my uncle's temper.
An old gentleman who filled in her family the office of "the_chevalier_" in a French one; namely, who told stories; not too long,and did not challenge you for interrupting them; who had a good air, andunexceptionable pedigree,--a turn for wit, literature, note-writing,and the management of lap-dogs; who could attend _Madame_ to auctions,plays, courts, and the puppet-show; who had a right to the bestcompany, but would, on a signal, give up his seat to any one the pretty_capricieuse_ whom he served might select from the worst,--in shorta very useful, charming personage, "vastly" liked by all, and"prodigiously" respected by none,--this gentleman, I say, by name Mr.Lovell, had attended her ladyship in her excursion to Devereux Court.Besides him there came also a widow lady, a distant relation, with oneeye and a sharp tongue,--the Lady Needleham, whom the beauty carriedabout with her as a sort of _gouvernante_ or duenna. These excellentpersons made my _compagnons de voyage_, and filled the remainingcomplements of the coach. To say truth, and to say nothing of my_tendresse_ for the Lady Hasselton, I was very anxious to escape theridicule of crawling up to the town like a green beetle, in my uncle'sverdant chariot, with the four Flanders mares trained not to exceed twomiles an hour. And my Lady Hasselton's _private_ raileries--for she wasreally well bred, and made no jest of my uncle's antiquities of taste,in his presence, at least--had considerably heightened my intuitivedislike to that mode of transporting myself to the metropolis. The daybefore my departure, Gerald, for the first time, spoke of it.
Glancing towards the mirror, which gave in full contrast the magnificentbeauty of his person, and the smaller proportions and plainer featuresof my own, he said with a sneer, "Your appearance must create awonderful sensation in town."
"No doubt of it," said I, taking his words literally, and arraying mylaced cravat with the air of a _petit-maitre_.
"What a wit the Count has!" whispered the Duchess of Lackland, who hadnot yet given up all hope of the elder brother.
"Wit!" said the Lady Hasselton; "poor child, he is a perfect simpleton!"