The Virginians

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER XXXII. In which a Family Coach is ordered

  Our pleasing duty now is to divulge the secret which Mr. Lambertwhispered in his wife's ear at the close of the antepenultimate chapter,and the publication of which caused such great pleasure to the whole ofthe Oakhurst family. As the hay was in, the corn not ready for cutting,and by consequence the farm horses disengaged, why, asked ColonelLambert, should they not be put into the coach, and should we not allpay a visit to Tunbridge Wells, taking friend Wolfe at Westerham on ourway?

  Mamma embraced this proposal, and I dare say the honest gentleman whomade it. All the children jumped for joy. The girls went off straightwayto get together their best calamancoes, paduasoys, falbalas, furbelows,capes, cardinals, sacks, negligees, solitaires, caps, ribbons, mantuas,clocked stockings, and high-heeled shoes, and I know not what articlesof toilet. Mamma's best robes were taken from the presses, whence theyonly issued on rare, solemn occasions, retiring immediately afterwardsto lavender and seclusion; the brave Colonel produced his laced hat andwaistcoat and silver-hilted hanger; Charley rejoiced in a rasee holidaysuit of his father's, in which the Colonel had been married, and whichMrs. Lambert cut up, not without a pang. Ball and Dumpling had theirtails and manes tied with ribbon, and Chump, the old white cart-horse,went as unicorn leader, to help the carriage-horses up the first hillyfive miles of the road from Oakhurst to Westerham. The carriage was anancient vehicle, and was believed to have served in the procession whichhad brought George I. from Greenwich to London, on his first arrival toassume the sovereignty of these realms. It had belonged to Mr. Lambert'sfather, and the family had been in the habit of regarding it, ever sincethey could remember anything, as one of the most splendid coaches in thethree kingdoms. Brian, coachman, and--must it also be owned?--ploughman,of the Oakhurst family, had a place on the box, with Mr. Charley by hisside. The precious clothes were packed in imperials on the roof. TheColonel's pistols were put in the pockets of the carriage, and theblunderbuss hung behind the box, in reach of Brian, who was an oldsoldier. No highwayman, however, molested the convoy; not even aninnkeeper levied contributions on Colonel Lambert, who, with a slenderpurse and a large family, was not to be plundered by those or any otherdepredators on the king's highway; and a reasonable cheap modest lodginghad been engaged for them by young Colonel Wolfe, at the house where hewas in the habit of putting up, and whither he himself accompanied themon horseback.

  It happened that these lodgings were opposite Madame Bernstein's; and asthe Oakhurst family reached their quarters on a Saturday evening, theycould see chair after chair discharging powdered beaux and patched andbrocaded beauties at the Baroness's door, who was holding one of hermany card-parties. The sun was not yet down (for our ancestors begantheir dissipations at early hours, and were at meat, drink, or cards,any time after three o'clock in the afternoon until any time in thenight or morning), and the young country ladies and their mother fromtheir window could see the various personages as they passed into theBernstein rout. Colonel Wolfe told the ladies who most of the characterswere. 'Twas almost as delightful as going to the party themselves, Hettyand Theo thought, for they not only could see the guests arriving, butlook into the Baroness's open casements and watch many of them there. Ofa few of the personages we have before had a glimpse. When the Duchessof Queensberry passed, and Mr. Wolfe explained who she was, MartinLambert was ready with a score of lines about "Kitty, beautiful andyoung," from his favourite Mat Prior.

  "Think that that old lady was once like you, girls!" cries the Colonel.

  "Like us, papa? Well, certainly we never set up for being beauties!"says Miss Hetty, tossing up her little head.

  "Yes, like you, you little baggage; like you at this moment, who want togo to that drum yonder:--

  'Inflamed with rage at sad restraint Which wise mamma ordained, And sorely vexed to play the saint Whilst wit and beauty reigned.'"

  "We were never invited, papa; and I am sure if there's no beauty moreworth seeing than that, the wit can't be much worth the hearing," againsays the satirist of the family.

  "Oh, but he's a rare poet, Mat Prior!" continues the Colonel; "though,mind you, girls, you'll skip over all the poems I have marked with across. A rare poet! and to think you should see one of his heroines!'Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way' (she always will, Mrs. Lambert!)--

  'Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way, Kitty at heart's desire Obtained the chariot for a day, And set the world on fire!'"

  "I am sure it must have been very inflammable," says mamma.

  "So it was, my dear, twenty years ago, much more inflammable than it isnow," remarks the Colonel.

  "Nonsense, Mr. Lambert," is mamma's answer.

  "Look, look!" cries Hetty, running forward and pointing to the littlesquare, and the covered gallery, where was the door leading to MadameBernstein's apartments, and round which stood a crowd of street urchins,idlers, and yokels, watching the company.

  "It's Harry Warrington!" exclaims Theo, waving a handkerchief to theyoung Virginian: but Warrington did not see Miss Lambert. The Virginianwas walking arm-in-arm with a portly clergyman in a crisp rustling silkgown, and the two went into Madame de Bernstein's door.

  "I heard him preach a most admirable sermon here last Sunday," says Mr.Wolfe; "a little theatrical, but most striking and eloquent."

  "You seem to be here most Sundays, James," says Mrs. Lambert.

  "And Monday, and soon till Saturday," adds the Colonel. "See, Harry hasbeautified himself already, hath his hair in buckle, and I have no doubtis going to the drum too."

  "I had rather sit quiet generally of a Saturday evening," says sober Mr.Wolfe; "at any rate, away from card-playing and scandal; but I own, dearMrs. Lambert, I am under orders. Shall I go across the way and send Mr.Warrington to you?"

  "No, let him have his sport. We shall see him to-morrow. He won't careto be disturbed amidst his fine folks by us country-people," said meekMrs. Lambert.

  "I am glad he is with a clergyman who preaches so well," says Theo,softly; and her eyes seemed to say, You see, good people, he is not sobad as you thought him, and as I, for my part, never believed him to be."The clergyman has a very kind, handsome face."

  "Here comes a greater clergyman," cries Mr. Wolfe. "It is my Lord ofSalisbury, with his blue ribbon, and a chaplain behind him."

  "And whom a mercy's name have we here?" breaks in Mrs. Lambert, as asedan-chair, covered with gilding, topped with no less than five earl'scoronets, carried by bearers in richly laced clothes, and preceded bythree footmen in the same splendid livery, now came up to Madame deBernstein's door. The Bishop, who had been about to enter, stopped, andran back with the most respectful bows and curtseys to the sedan-chair,giving his hand to the lady who stepped thence.

  "Who on earth is this?" asks Mrs. Lambert.

  "Sprechen sie Deutsch? Ja, meinherr. Nichts verstand," says the waggishColonel.

  "Pooh, Martin."

  "Well, if you can't understand High Dutch, my love, how can I help it?Your education was neglected at school. Can you understand heraldry?--Iknow you can."

  "I make." cries Charley, reciting the shield, "three merions on a fieldor, with an earl's coronet."

  "A countess's coronet, my son. The Countess of Yarmouth, my son."

  "And pray who is she?"

  "It hath ever been the custom of our sovereigns to advance personsof distinction to honour," continues the Colonel, gravely, "and thiseminent lady hath been so promoted by our gracious monarch, to the rankof Countess of this kingdom."

  "But why, papa?" asked the daughters together.

  "Never mind, girls!" said mamma.

  But that incorrigible Colonel would go on.

  "Y, my children, is one of the last and the most awkward letters of thewhole alphabet. When I tell you stories, you are always saying Why. Whyshould my Lord Bishop be cringing to that lady? Look at him rubbing hisfat hands together, and smiling into her face! It's not a handsome faceany longer. It is all painted
red and white like Scaramouch's in thepantomime. See, there comes another blue-riband, as I live. My LordBamborough. The descendant of the Hotspurs. The proudest man in England.He stops, he bows, he smiles; he is hat in hand, too. See, she taps himwith her fan. Get away, you crowd of little blackguard boys, and don'ttread on the robe of the lady whom the King delights to honour."

  "But why does the King honour her?" ask the girls once more.

  "There goes that odious last letter but one! Did you ever hear of herGrace the Duchess of Kendal? No. Of the Duchess of Portsmouth? Non plus.Of the Duchess of La Valliore? Of Fair Rosamond, then?"

  "Hush, papa! There is no need to bring blushes on the cheeks of mydear ones, Martin Lambert!" said the mother, putting her finger to herhusband's lips.

  "'Tis not I; it is their sacred Majesties who are the cause of theshame," cries the son of the old republican. "Think of the bishops ofthe Church and the proudest nobility of the world cringing and bowingbefore that painted High Dutch Jezebel. Oh, it's a shame! a shame!"

  "Confusion!" here broke out Colonel Wolfe, and making a dash at his hat,ran from the room. He had seen the young lady whom he admired and herguardian walking across the Pantiles on foot to the Baroness's party,and they came up whilst the Countess of Yarmouth-Walmoden was engagedin conversation with the two lords spiritual and temporal, and these twomade the lowest reverences and bows to the Countess, and waited untilshe had passed in at the door on the Bishop's arm.

  Theo turned away from the window with a sad, almost awestricken face.Hetty still remained there, looking from it with indignation in hereyes, and a little red spot on each cheek.

  "A penny for little Hetty's thoughts," says mamma, coming to the windowto lead the child away.

  "I am thinking what I should do if I saw papa bowing to that woman,"says Hetty.

  Tea and a hissing kettle here made their appearance, and the family satedown to partake of their evening meal,--leaving, however, Miss Hetty,from her place, command of the window, which she begged her brothernot to close. That young gentleman had been down amongst the crowd toinspect the armorial bearings of the Countess's and other sedans, nodoubt, and also to invest sixpence in a cheese-cake, by mamma's orderand his own desire, and he returned presently with this delicacy wrappedup in a paper.

  "Look, mother," he comes back and says, "do you see that big man inbrown beating all the pillars with a stick? That is the learned Mr.Johnson. He comes to the Friars sometimes to see our master. He wassitting with some friends just now at the tea-table before Mrs. Brown'start-shop. They have tea there, twopence a cup; I heard Mr. Johnson sayhe had had seventeen cups--that makes two-and-tenpence--what a sight ofmoney for tea!"

  "What would you have, Charley?" asks Theo.

  "I think I would have cheese-cakes," says Charley, sighing, as his teethclosed on a large slice, "and the gentleman whom Mr. Johnson was with,"continues Charley, with his mouth quite full, "was Mr. Richardson whowrote----"

  "Clarissa!" cry all the women in a breath, and run to the window to seetheir favourite writer. By this time the sun was sunk, the stars weretwinkling overhead, and the footman came and lighted the candles in theBaroness's room opposite our spies.

  Theo and her mother were standing together looking from their place ofobservation. There was a small illumination at Mrs. Brown's tart-and tea-shop, by which our friends could see one lady getting Mr.Richardson's hat and stick, and another tying a shawl round his neck,after which he walked home.

  "Oh dear me! he does not look like Grandison!" cries Theo.

  "I rather think I wish we had not seen him, my dear," says mamma, whohas been described as a most sentimental woman and eager novel-reader;and here again they were interrupted by Miss Hetty, who cried:

  "Never mind that little fat man, but look yonder, mamma."

  And they looked yonder. And they saw, in the first place, Mr. Warringtonundergoing the honour of a presentation to the Countess of Yarmouth, whowas still followed by the obsequious peer and prelate with blue ribands.And now the Countess graciously sate down to a card-table, the Bishopand the Earl and a fourth person being her partners. And now Mr.Warrington came into the embrasure of the window with a lady whom theyrecognised as the lady whom they had seen for a few minutes at Oakhurst.

  "How much finer he is!" remarks mamma.

  "How he is improved in his looks! What has he done to himself?" asksTheo.

  "Look at his grand lace frills and rules! My dear, he has not got on ourshirts any more," cries the matron.

  "What are you talking about, girls?" asks papa, reclining on his sofa,where, perhaps, he was dozing after the fashion of honest house-fathers.

  The girls said how Harry Warrington was in the window, talking with hiscousin Lady Maria Esmond.

  "Come away!" cries papa. "You have no right to be spying the youngfellow. Down with the curtains, I say!"

  And down the curtains went, so that the girls saw no more of MadameBernstein's guests or doings for that night.

  I pray you be not angry at my remarking, if only by way of contrastbetween these two opposite houses, that while Madame Bernstein and herguests--bishop, dignitaries, noblemen, and what not--were gambling ortalking scandal, or devouring champagne and chickens (which I hold to bevenial sin), or doing honour to her ladyship the king's favourite, theCountess of Yarmouth-Walmoden, our country friends in their lodgingsknelt round their table, whither Mr. Brian the coachman came as silentlyas his creaking shoes would let him, whilst Mr. Lambert, standing up,read in a low voice, a prayer that Heaven would lighten their darknessand defend them from the perils of that night, and a supplication thatit would grant the request of those two or three gathered together.

  Our young folks were up betimes on Sunday morning, and arrayedthemselves in those smart new dresses which were to fascinate theTunbridge folks, and, with the escort of brother Charley, paced thelittle town, and the quaint Pantiles, and the pretty common, long erethe company was at breakfast, or the bells had rung to church. Itwas Hester who found out where Harry Warrington's lodging must be, byremarking Mr. Gumbo in an undress, with his lovely hair in curl-papers,drawing a pair of red curtains aside, and opening a window-sash, whencehe thrust his head and inhaled the sweet morning breeze. Mr. Gumbo didnot happen to see the young people from Oakhurst, though they beheld himclearly enough. He leaned gracefully from the window; he waved a largefeather brush, with which he condescended to dust the furniture ofthe apartment within; he affably engaged in conversation with acherry-cheeked milkmaid, who was lingering under the casement, andkissed his lily hand to her. Gumbo's hand sparkled with rings, and hisperson was decorated with a profusion of jewellery--gifts, no doubt, ofthe fair who appreciated the young African. Once or twice more beforebreakfast-time the girls passed near that window. It remained opened,but the room behind it was blank. No face of Harry Warrington appearedthere. Neither spoke to the other of the subject on which both werebrooding. Hetty was a little provoked with Charley, who was clamorousabout breakfast, and told him he was always thinking of eating. In replyto her sarcastic inquiry, he artlessly owned he should like anothercheese-cake, and good-natured Theo, laughing, said she had a sixpence,and if the cake-shop were open of a Sunday morning Charley should haveone. The cake-shop was open: and Theo took out her little purse, nettedby her dearest friend at school, and containing her pocket-piece, hergrandmother's guinea, her slender little store of shillings--nay, somecopper money at one end; and she treated Charley to the meal which heloved.

  A great deal of fine company was at church. There was that funny oldDuchess, and old Madame Bernstein, with Lady Maria at her side; and Mr.Wolfe, of course, by the side of Miss Lowther, and singing with her outof the same psalm-book; and Mr. Richardson with a bevy of ladies. Oneof them is Miss Fielding, papa tells them after church, Harry Fielding'ssister. "Oh, girls, what good company he was! And his books are wortha dozen of your milksop Pamelas and Clarissas, Mrs. Lambert: but whatwoman ever loved true humour? And there was Mr. Johnson sitting amongstthe charity children. Did
you see how he turned round to the altarat the Belief, and upset two or three of the scared little urchins inleather breeches? And what a famous sermon Harry's parson gave, didn'the? A sermon about scandal. How, he touched up some of the old harridanswho were seated round! Why wasn't Mr. Warrington at church? It was ashame he wasn't at church."

  "I really did not remark whether he was there or not," says Miss Hetty,tossing her head up.

  But Theo, who was all truth, said, "Yes, I thought of him, and was sorryhe was not there; and so did you think of him, Hetty."

  "I did no such thing, miss," persists Hetty.

  "Then why did you whisper to me it was Harry's clergyman who preached?"

  "To think of Mr. Warrington's clergyman is not to think of Mr.Warrington. It was a most excellent sermon, certainly, and the childrensang most dreadfully out of tune. And there is Lady Maria at the windowopposite, smelling at the roses; and that is Mr. Wolfe's step, I knowhis great military tramp. Right left--right left! How do you do, ColonelWolfe?"

  "Why do you look so glum, James?" asks Colonel Lambert, good-naturedly."Has the charmer been scolding thee, or is thy conscience pricked by thesermon. Mr. Sampson, isn't the parson's name? A famous preacher, on myword!"

  "A pretty preacher, and a pretty practitioner!" says Mr. Wolfe, with ashrug of his shoulders.

  "Why, I thought the discourse did not last ten minutes, and madam didnot sleep one single wink during the sermon, didst thou, Molly?"

  "Did you see when the fellow came into church?" asked the indignantColonel Wolfe. "He came in at the open door of the common, just in time,and as the psalm was over."

  "Well, he had been reading the service probably to some sick person;there are many here," remarks Mrs. Lambert.

  "Reading the service! Oh, my good Mrs. Lambert! Do you know where Ifound him? I went to look for your young scapegrace of a Virginian."

  "His own name is a very pretty name, I'm sure," cries out Hetty. "Itisn't Scapegrace! It is Henry Esmond Warrington, Esquire."

  "Miss Hester, I found the parson in his cassock, and Henry EsmondWarrington, Esquire, in his bedgown, at a quarter before eleven o'clockin the morning, when all the Sunday bells were ringing, and they wereplaying over a game of piquet they had had the night before!"

  "Well, numbers of good people play at cards of a Sunday. The King playsat cards of a Sunday."

  "Hush, my dear!"

  "I know he does," says Hetty, "with that painted person we sawyesterday--that Countess what-d'you-call-her?"

  "I think, my dear Miss Hester, a clergyman had best take to God's booksinstead of the Devil's books on that day--and so I took the liberty oftelling your parson." Hetty looked as if she thought it was a libertywhich Mr. Wolfe had taken. "And I told our young friend that I thoughthe had better have been on his way to church than there in his bedgown."

  "You wouldn't have Harry go to church in a dressing-gown and nightcap,Colonel Wolfe? That would be a pretty sight, indeed!" again says Hetty,fiercely.

  "I would have my little girl's tongue not wag quite so fast," remarkspapa, patting the girl's flushed little cheek.

  "Not speak when a friend is attacked, and nobody says a word in hisfavour? No; nobody!"

  Here the two lips of the little mouth closed on each other: the wholelittle frame shook: the child flung a parting look of defiance at Mr.Wolfe, and went out of the room, just in time to close the door, andburst out crying on the stair.

  Mr. Wolfe looked very much discomfited. "I am sure, Aunt Lambert, I didnot intend to hurt Hester's feelings."

  "No, James," she said, very kindly--the young officer used to call herAunt Lambert in quite early days--and she gave him her hand.

  Mr. Lambert whistled his favourite tune of "Over the hills and faraway," with a drum accompaniment performed by his fingers on the window."I say, you mustn't whistle on Sunday, papa!" cries the artless younggown-boy from Grey Friars; and then suggested that it was three hoursfrom breakfast, and he should like to finish Theo's cheese-cake.

  "Oh, you greedy child!" cries Theo. But here, hearing a littleexclamatory noise outside, she ran out of the room, closing the doorbehind her. And we will not pursue her. The noise was that sob whichbroke from Hester's panting, overloaded heart; and, though we cannotsee, I am sure the little maid flung herself on her sister's neck, andwept upon Theo's kind bosom.

  Hetty did not walk out in the afternoon when the family took the airon the common, but had a headache and lay on her bed, where her motherwatched her. Charley had discovered a comrade from Grey Friars: Mr.Wolfe of course paired off with Miss Lowther: and Theo and her father,taking their sober walk in the Sabbath sunshine, found Madame Bernsteinbasking on a bench under a tree, her niece and nephew in attendance.Harry ran up to greet his dear friends: he was radiant with pleasure atbeholding them--the elder ladies were most gracious to the Colonel andhis wife, who had so kindly welcomed their Harry.

  How noble and handsome he looked! Theo thought: she called him by hisChristian name, as if he were really her brother. "Why did we not seeyou sooner to-day, Harry?" she asked.

  "I never thought you were here, Theo."

  "But you might have seen us if you wished."

  "Where?" asked Harry.

  "There, sir," she said, pointing to the church. And she held her handup as if in reproof; but a sweet kindness beamed in her honest face.Ah, friendly young reader, wandering on the world and struggling withtemptation, may you also have one or two pure hearts to love and prayfor you!