“My lord dines at home--they may put up the carriage--that’s all,” said Lady Delacour: “only let us have dinner directly,” added she, as the servant shut the door. “Miss Portman will be famished amongst us: there is no living upon sentiment.” “And there is no living with such belles without being something more of a beau,” said Lord Delacour, looking at his splashed boots. “I will be ready for dinner before dinner is ready for me.” With activity very unusual to him, he hurried out of the room to change his dress. “O day of wonders!” exclaimed Lady Delacour. “And, O night of wonders! if we can get him through the evening without the help of Lord Studley’s wine. You must give us some music, my good Belinda, and make him accompany you with his flute. I can tell you he has really a very pretty taste for music, and knows fifty times more of the matter than half the dilettanti, who squeeze the human face divine into all manner of ridiculous shapes, by way of persuading you that they are in ecstasy! And, my dear, do not forget to show us the charming little portfolio of drawings that you have brought from Oakly-park. Lord Delacour was with me at Harrowgate in the days of his courtship: he knows the charming views that you have been taking about Knaresborough and Fountain’s Abbey, and all those places. I will answer for it, he remembers them a hundred times better than I do. And, my love, I assure you he is a better judge of drawing than many whom we saw ogling Venus rising from the sea, in the Orleans gallery. Lord Delacour has let his talents go to sleep in a shameless manner; but really he has talents, if they could be wakened. By-the-by, pray make him tell you the story of Lord Studley’s original Titian: he tells that story with real humour. Perhaps you have not found it out, but Lord Delacour has a vast deal of drollery in his own way, and----” “Dinner’s ready, my lady!” “That is a pity!” whispered Lady Delacour; “for if they had let me go on in my present humour, I should have found out that my lord has every accomplishment under the sun, and every requisite under the moon, to make the marriage state happy.” With the assistance of Belinda’s portfolio and her harp, and the good-humour and sprightliness of Lady Delacour’s wit, his lordship got through the evening much to his own satisfaction. He played on the flute, he told the story of Studley’s original Titian, and he detected a fault that had escaped Mr. Percival in the perspective of Miss Portman’s sketch of Fountain’s Abbey. The perception that his talents were _called out_, and that he appeared to unusual advantage, made him _excellent company_: he found that the spirits can be raised by self-complacency even more agreeably than by burgundy. CHAPTER XXI. HELENA