Courtship -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
“There,” cried his inamorata, with rapture, “that is Mr. Dodd all
over; thinks of everybody, high or low, before himself.” There was a
grunt somewhere behind her; her quick ear caught it; she turned round
like a thing on a pivot, and slapped the nearest face. It happened to
be Fountain's; so she continued with such a treacle smile, “Don't you
remember, sir, how he used to teach your cub mathematics gratis?” The
sweet smile and the keen contemporaneous scratch confounded Mr.
Fountain for a second. As soon as he revived he said stiffly, “We can
all appreciate Mr. Dodd.”
Having thus established her Adonis on a satisfactory footing, she
broke out all over graciousness again, and, smiling and chatting, led
her guests beneath the hospitable roof.
But one of these guests did not respond to her cheerful strain. The
Norman knight was full of bitterness. Mr. Talboys drew his friend
aside and proposed to him to go back again. The senior was aghast.
“Don't be so precipitate,” was all that he could urge this time.
“Confound the fellow! Yes, if that is the man she prefers to you, I
will go home with you to-morrow, and the vile hussy shall never enter
my doors again.”
In this mind the pair went devious to their dressing-rooms.
One day a witty woman said of a man that “he played the politician
about turnips and cabbages.” That might be retorted (by a snob and
brute) on her own sex in general, and upon Mrs. Bazalgette in
particular. This sweet lady maneuvered on a carpet like Marlborough on
the south of France. She was brimful of resources, and they all tended
toward one sacred object, getting her own way. She could be imperious
at a pinch and knock down opposition; but she liked far better to
undermine it, dissolve it, or evade it. She was too much of a woman to
run straight to her _je-le-veux,_ so long as she could wind
thitherward serpentinely and by detour. She could have said to Mr.
Hardie, “You will take down Lucy to dinner,” and to Mr. Dodd, “You
will sit next me”; but no, she must mold her males--as per sample.
To Mr. Fountain she said, “Your friend, I hear, is of old family.”
“Came in with the Conqueror, madam.”
“Then he shall take me down: that will be the first step toward
conquering me--ha! ha!” Fountain bowed, well pleased.
To Mr. Hardie she said, “Will you take down Lucy to-day? I see she
enjoys your conversation. Observe how disinterested I am.”
Hardie consented with twinkling composure.
Before dinner she caught Kenealy, drew him aside, and put on a long
face. “I am afraid I must lose you to-day at dinner. Mr. Dodd is quite
a stranger, and they all tell me I must put him at his ease.
“Yaas.”
“Well, then, you had better get next Lucy, as you can't have me.”
“Yaas.”
“And, Captain Kenealy, you are my aid-de-camp. It is a delightful
post, you know, and rather a troublesome one.”
“Yaas.”
“You must help me be kind to this sailor.”
“Yaas. He is a good fellaa. Carried the baeg for the little caed.”
“Oh, did he?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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