Beauchamp; or, The Error.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Beauchamp; or, The Error.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
"Oh dear aunt," she said, while the wine and water and biscuits were
placed upon a small table at Mrs. Clifford's elbow, "it makes me so
glad to see you, and I have ordered the blue room at the south side to
be got ready for you directly, and then there is the corner one for
Mary, because it has a window both ways, and when she is in a gay mood
she can look out over the meadows and the stream, and when she is in
her high pensiveness she can gaze over the deep woods and hills. Then
she is next to me too, so that she may have merry nonsense on one
side, and grave sense on the other; for I am sure you will stay a long
while with us now you are here, and papa will be so glad."
"I fear it cannot be very long, my love," replied Mrs. Clifford. "In
the first place I have come it seems uninvited, and in the next place
you know, Isabella, that I am sometimes out of spirits, and perhaps
fastidious, so that all guests do not at all times please me. Who have
you here now? There seemed a large party in the dining-room."
"Oh, there are several very foolish men," answered Sir John Slingsby's
daughter, laughing, "and one wise one. There is Mr. Dabbleworth, who
was trying to prove to me all dinner-time that I am an electrical
machine; and in the end I told him that I could easily believe he was
one, for he certainly gave me a shock, and Sir James Vestage who
joined in and insisted that instead of electrical machines men were
merely improved monkeys. I told him that I perfectly agreed with him,
and that I saw fresh proofs of it every day. Then up by papa was
sitting old Mr. Harrington, the fox-hunter; what he was saying I do
not know, for I never listen to any thing he says, as it is sure
either to be stupid or offensive. Then there was Charles Harrington,
who lisped a good deal, and thought himself exceedingly pretty, and
Mr. Wharton, the lawyer, who thought deeply and drank deeply, and said
nothing but once."
"But who was your wise man, dear Isabella?" asked Mary, very willing
to encourage her fair cousin in her light cheerfulness, hoping that it
might win Mrs. Clifford gently from sadder thoughts.
"Oh, who but good Dr. Miles," answered Miss Slingsby, "who grumbled
sadly at every body, and even papa did not escape, I can assure you.
But all these people will be gone in an hour or two, and in the
meantime I shall have you all alone."
"Then there is no one staying in the house, Isabella?" said Mrs.
Clifford. "I heard at Tarningham that your father expected some people
from London."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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