For some reason the Eltons had seen fit to not come to the Ball; though they had not sent any regrets concerning their inability to attend.
Aunt Mouser was of the opinion when she heard of that solecism that they were quite as pushing and vulgar as she had at first opined and instructed Gervase and Prudence that they would be quite correct to give the ‘demmed mushrooms’ the cut direct should they have the mischance to meet them in the village.
Chapter 43
“You missed a treat in town old boy,” said Mr Bugge to Gervase, “the incomparable Parisienne acrobat Madame Saqui did tightrope walking AND dancing at Vauxhall; all covered with spangles and feathers; delightful!
“Why do I somehow think that the parts between the spangles and feathers are what elicits that remark of delight more than the acrobatics?” said Gervase dryly. “I know you appear to be a great gun with my niece Diana but I wish you will not tell her about that; the idea that she might borrow a washing line to attempt such feats herself has to present itself to mind. The child is unwholesomely like her mother.”
Mr Bugge chuckled.
“Too late old boy,” he said, “I also told her how we borrowed the parson’s mule to undertake our own version of Astley’s Amphitheatre for the rest of the chaps. Lord, the bruises we got when that wretched nag threw us were worse than the beating!”
“And I wager Diana told you off and said she was surprised at me for upsetting the poor beast,” said Gervase, “a great animal lover my niece.”
“Well yes, actually she did! But if you ask me putting mice in that….no, forget I spoke,” said Mr Bugge.
“Oh it was Diana was it? The mice I am sure will thrive as the wretched creatures always seem to; and I have no liking for Gerry’s wife anyway. Trust a hussar to marry for looks not personality!” said Gervase.
Kitty was feeling decidedly miffed.
Mr Letheridge, far from feeling any undying passion blighted by her rejection of him appeared to be enjoying himself very well indeed dancing with a number of people from one of her school-fellows, the bird-witted and also
decidedly dowdy Henrietta Potts, to the incomparable Emma Knightley. And he had not even done more than nod to her!
It was true that it had been fun twitting Arthur over his incipient Byronesque gestures; but less fun that he had grinned and said that perhaps he could not carry it off after all, but a provincial ball was the place to make a cake of one’s self to see if it made a good impression or not; and added that he had already been sent to redo his neckcloth by Uncle Gervase who refused to permit him to dance in something he referred to a ‘farmer boy’s neckerchief’.
Arthur actually seemed to be intending to settle down to work at Oxford and declared that though he was writing poems about pirates it would be his last kick over the traces.
Which fact meant that the evening was generally rather flat; since most of the men there were as old as Mr Letheridge, save Mr Churchill; and he was a married man though one might not think it for the fulsome compliments he bestowed. Kitty found that Mr Churchill was a trifle unnerving; because she was not sure how to reply to his well-turned compliments; and his poor wife did not know where to look for the fact that Kitty could not refrain from blushing.
She might have been more gratified to have known that her cousin Gervase had stopped Mr Letheridge from offering to knock Mr Churchill down.
However, when Mr Letheridge came up to her and murmured,
“Will you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Fairlees?” then Kitty forgot her resolve to turn him down flat and the little speech of rejection quite flew out of her head and she said,
“Oh yes please, Mr Letheridge.”
He drew her into the figures of the cotillion; which Kitty danced well. It was too complex a dance to exchange pleasantries, but as Mr Letheridge offered to procure her a glass of lemonade and then stayed to chat politely she blurted out,
“Do you like foundries and things, Mr Letheridge?”
“Oh not in the least,” said Mr Letheridge, “it was, I suppose, of some interest; though I think I should have preferred to have read about it to seeing it. Still, Diana and Helena enjoyed it, did they not? And it was Diana I was fool –er, impetuous enough to ask what you might all like to do.”
Kitty chuckled.
“Diana is a law unto herself,” she said, “how she gets away with it I am never quite sure; and she is a most disconcerting child. Sometimes she has mice in her pockets!”
“How extremely unpleasant!” said Mr Letheridge obediently.
“Oh yes! And Prudence does not enter into my feelings on the matter at all, and I suspect that Emma considers me to be making a fuss!” said Kitty.
“Mice should not be forced upon young ladies,” said Mr Letheridge gravely, “even with an introduction; they are not a respectable part of the ton.”
Kitty managed a giggle.
“Oh pray, Mr Letheridge, might I ask a personal and – and quite impudent question?” she asked.
“Well, Miss Fairlees, I do not guarantee not to swoon if it is too personal or shocking,” said Mr Letheridge with a straight face.
She giggled again.
“You really are a complete hand! I did not realise! But pray tell me, are you always called Meleager?”
“It is an appalling name, is it not?” he said. “I was named after a man who had saved my father’s life; so I always use it to sign documents to honour him and I would never change it by Deed Pole for that reason. My family pick the middle part and call me Lee; far less of an encumbrance, would you not say?”
“Lee?” she tested the feel of it. “Why that is quite…..dashing!”
He laughed.
“I fear I cannot live up to dashing; but I believe I am not such a chawbacon that a name like Meleager makes me sound.”
“I believe, Mr Letheridge,” said Kitty, “if you were to wish to go for a walk at the weekend it might be pleasant to get to know Mr Lee Letheridge.”
“I believe, Miss Fairlees,” said Mr Letheridge, “I should like that very well.”
The waltz was for strictly married or betrothed couples; and Gervase and Prudence led the dance. Emma and George always enjoyed a waltz, and Gervase had arranged to have a couple of waltzes just for them. Mr Blenkinsop informed Aunt Mouser that he did not know the steps but that he would have asked her to dance if he had.
She whacked him lightly on the knuckles with her fan.
“Rake!” she admonished, snapping open her fan to flirt it at him. “You may procure for me instead a glass of Negus if there is any to be had to warm me up on this chill night.”
Mr Blenkinsop bowed and set forth on his mission to see if Mrs Hodges would mull some spiced and sugared port and water for Lady Katherine. She was, after all, the most interesting person here bar his late wife’s relatives and her racy and often outmoded speech amused him. They had begun a game whereby he spoke of steam powered looms to her, and she spoke about the scandals at court in her youth to him; it was reet amusing.
Lady Katherine also found the game vastly diverting and considered happily how scandalised her husband’s family would be to see her flirting with a mill owner. She was fond enough of her husband; they were on friendly terms. His family however she loathed and despised. What a pity none of them would hear about this!
Arthur was spending the evening avoiding the attentions of Miss Rawlinson; who was quite recovered from her turned foot, that had not turned out to be a sprain, which, as she remarked laughing a little too loudly, was good news or she would not have been able to dance here tonight! She appealed to Mr Perry to confirm that though it had been a nasty wrench and in need of her being carried to have it tied up, her ankle was quite back to normal! Here she extended the offending member to show off more of a trim ankle and calf than was strictly seemly. Mr Perry remarked dryly that the injury had fortunately been quite trivial.
“But so kind of Mr Alver to carry me!” declared Miss Rawlinson casting sheep’s eyes on Art
hur. She was quite back to her normal self; which was to say what she would have described as corky and what Arthur considered vulgarly hoydenish. Her dowdy friend Miss Potts clearly admired Miss Rawlinson’s daring manner. Arthur waited for Miss Rawlinson to turn to invite the opinion of Emma upon how kind Mr Alver was, and asked Miss Potts if she would favour him with the next dance.
Miss Potts flushed violently and lost herself in a series of half sentences which Arthur decided to take as assent and whirled her into the next country dance measure.
“I say, Miss Potts! Do you mind be being frank with you?” he asked.
“Oh please, Mr Alver! You must say whatever you wish!” said Miss Potts.
“Well I will then; because you seem a nice ladylike girl,” said Arthur, “and I cannot think that your parents
would much like your friendship with Miss Rawlinson; she’s not quite the thing you know!”
Miss Potts flushed.
“Oh, but she is so brave; she dares to speak out what she thinks!” she said.
“And that’s not very becoming in a young girl not yet out,” said Arthur, “within the family that is one thing; to have straightforward manners is pleasing; but Miss Rawlinson seems to set out to attract attention and to be….. well, rather vulgar. I do not think, if I were your brother, I should be at all happy about you knowing her too well.”
“Oh!” said Miss Potts with another flush; since she had no desire to have Mr Alver as a brother and would prefer to know him in a different fashion. “You do not wish to court her then?”
“Such is definitely not my desire,” said Arthur, “ah; I conjecture that she has boasted that she can land the Honourable Arthur Alver?” he added with enough worldly wise cynicism to almost look Byronesque.
“Oh Mr Alver! How did you guess? She used almost those exact same words!” said Miss Potts.
“I guessed, Miss Potts, because I have seen girls of her kind before,” said Arthur, “and my Uncle Gervase warned me what a young man of tolerable fortune should be ready to avoid. And when I carried her to Mr Perry, by the time I set her down the pain was fading in her eyes and a calculating and marrying look was replacing it. I am not such a cynic as my uncle but I am no flat, and I did not cut my eye teeth yesterday!”
“I have wanted to be more like her,” said Miss Potts wistfully, “she always seems to have such fun.”
“If you should wish to be vulgar and coming that is how I see her I fear,” said Arthur, “it is uncivil of me to disparage your friend I know; but I should hate her to drag you into any exploits which get you hurt, or discredited. I would consider it proper if you let the friendship drop; Miss Rawlinson is the type to easily attract followers of
her own kind and I suspect she envies you your air of gentility without really understanding what makes you a lady where she is not.”
“You think she envies me?” Miss Potts was disbelieving.
“Deep down, yes I do,” said Arthur, “because…… well you are everything she cannot be. I suggest you cultivate instead a friendship with my cousin, Kitty Fairlees.”
“Oh thank you, Mr Alver; I shall endeavour to take your advice!” cried Miss Potts. Why Mr Alver was wonderful; and how kind of him to give her a discreet hint instead of looking on her in the same way as he looked on Em!
Chapter 44
The company went into supper later than most of the Highbury notables were accustomed to dine, Mr Cole murmuring that he hoped so late an hour would not disagree with him.
Gervase overheard and leaned over.
“I have been careful to instruct my cook to produce dishes that are readily digestible by a man with dietary difficulties, Mr Cole; and a footman has been assigned to you specially to find you the most digestible dishes.”
“Your Lordship,” said Mr Cole, “is one of the most considerate men – nay the most considerate man – that I have ever met!”
“Oh I like to be able to see my friends happy; that is all,” said Gervase.
Mr Cole was delighted to find that the dishes singled out for him were not only digestible but also tasty and pleasant; and thanked the footman for his kindness too, a solecism but one the footman had been warned to expect so he merely smiled and nodded acceptance. The vail for his kindness more than covered being treated too familiarly by one of the guests.
There were richer dishes too; one did not bring a cook from London and then spurn his genius. It may be said that the Hartfield party tended to partake largely of the same dishes as Mr Cole, not being used to rich food; and Miss Bates recklessly ate lobster because she would be unlikely, as she said to Mrs Weston, ever to have the chance to do so again and if she suffered for it, it would be worth it. There was no ‘r’ in the month; but Gervase in consultation with the chef had decided that the inclement weather made risking the shellfish eligible.
The meal was a leisurely affair not to cause any problems to the digestion of the guests; who then resumed the dance floor, though some preferred to sit and listen to the music and watch more hardy folks whilst their own digestion proceeded.
Mrs Goddard ushered her girls out to return to the school at midnight; giving them a chance to meet others at a formal social occasion was excellent training for them; but she had no intention of permitting them to become overtired. She thanked Gervase kindly for the invitation to her oldest brood.
“Why, Mrs Goddard, I am happy to give them the chance to learn how to go on in social situations,” said Gervase, “hopefully it will help them avoid committing social solecisms when they come out. But I should like to drop a word in your ear concerning one of your charges…..”
Mrs Goddard was too much of a lady to grimace.
“I take it that you are referring to Miss Rawlinson’s rather high spirited manner,” she said guardedly.
“It cannot ever please; for I should say that it goes beyond high spirits,” said Gervase. Mrs Goddard coloured slightly.
“It is to be hoped that if I tell her that a word of censure was passed by the Marquess of Alverston your disapprobation might sound louder in that young lady’s ears than mine,” she said. “The child has been reared in slightly unfortunate circumstances with an aunt; her mother, finding herself in a better situation now to see to her daughter’s future wishes her educated.”
“And not in the same household as might annoy a new husband?” asked Gervase.
“You understand the situation perfectly,” said Mrs Goddard. “But it is hard for Miss Rawlinson to adapt from the rather vulgar behaviour she has been accustomed to indulge in with her cousins.”
Gervase nodded.
“Then my severe censure might in the long run be a kindness to her,” he said, “and to continue in that vein, should she suggest making amends in writing an apology say, I will greet her if I meet her in the street; otherwise I shall continue her education by cutting her.”
Mrs Goddard suppressed a wince. It might, after all, answer very well indeed in bringing Emily to heel.
“Thank you again, Your Lordship,” she said sincerely.
Most of the Highbury notables started considering leaving once Mrs Goddard left; though the ensemble was still playing merrily and Lord Alverston still seemed quite ready to continue dancing. Miss Bates whispered to Emma,
“Dear Mrs Knightley, at what hour do these assemblies generally break up? One would not like to outstay one’s welcome!”
“Oh in London such balls can go on until quite five in the morning,” said Emma, “but as we are in the country I fancy that Lord Alverston will encourage most to leave at about two.”
“Oh Mrs Knightley! Did it not exhaust you in your delicate condition?” asked Miss Bates.
“Oh we seldom saw a ball to its end,” said Emma, “Prudence is no more keen on late hours than am I; it was a pleasant diversion but I believe the hours they are said to keep in Bath, finishing at midnight, would do well enough for me. Alverston is adequately supported; so when you desire to leave, Miss Bates, let us know and Mr Knightley and
I will see you home.”
“Oh Mrs Knightley! Would it be forward of me to watch it all? It is so very exciting!” said Miss Bates.
“Then see it to the end by all means!” said Emma.
She reflected that this was probably just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened in Miss Bates’ humdrum little life; and it would be unkind to spoil the poor woman’s pleasure. Frank Churchill certainly looked set to continue to the end; however ill it might make poor Jane. Emma sighed. What was the good of being so accomplished at so many things if one but wasted it being married to a man who did not even seem to pay her any attention? Emma had watched throughout the evening to see whether the lack of attention Frank bestowed upon
Jane was more of a piece with their seeming distance when hiding their betrothal; but in truth he seemed bored by her, and wont, if addressing her, to do so roughly and without care for her feelings, almost as though she were a servant in his eyes. And yet George would not speak thus to a servant; nor Cousin Gervase. Frank Churchill was, Emma noted, courteous to social equals and superiors and those whose good opinion he required; but he was now quite offhand with poor little Miss Bates and peremptory with the servants.
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