Great Britain -- History -- George III, 1760-1820 -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
Claire helped her to walk to the drawing-room, arranged a few things,
and then left the room with the folding-doors closed, and it seemed as
if life and youth had gone out of the place, leaving it to ghastly old
age and death, painted with red lips and white cheeks, and looking ten
times more awful than death in its natural solemn state.
Then for two hours fashionable Saltinville rattled the knocker, and was
shown up by Isaac, in ones, and twos, and threes, and told Lady Teigne
that she never looked better, and took snuff, and gossiped, and told of
the latest scandals about Miss A, and Mr B, and Lord C, and then
stopped, for Lord C came and told tales back; and all the while Lady
Teigne, supported by Lady Drelincourt, her sister, ogled and smiled, and
smirked under her paint and diamonds, and quarrelled with her sister
every time they were left for a few minutes alone.
"It's shameful, Lyddy," said her ladyship, pinching her over-dressed
sister; "an old thing like you, rolling in riches, and you won't pay my
debts."
"Pay them yourself," was the ungracious reply. "Oh!"
This was consequent upon the receipt of a severe pinch from Lady Teigne,
but the elderly sisters smiled again directly, for Isaac announced Major
Rockley, and the handsome, dark officer came in, banging an imaginary
sabre at his heels and clinking his spurs. He kissed Lady Teigne's
hand, bent courteously over Lady Drelincourt, and then set both
tittering over the latest story about the Prince.
The sisters might have been young from their ways and looks, and general
behaviour towards the Major, whose attentions towards the venerable
animated mummy upon the couch seemed marked by a manner that was almost
filial.
He patted the cushions that supported the weak back; held her ladyship
when a fit of coughing came on, and then had to find the necklet that
had become unfastened and had slipped down beneath an Indian shawl,
spread coverlet fashion, over the lady's trembling limbs.
"Thank you so much, Major. How clever you are!" cackled the old woman
playfully, as he found the necklet, and clasped it about her throat. "I
almost feel disposed to give you some encouragement, only it would make
Lyddy furious."
Lady Drelincourt said "For shame!" and tapped her sister with her fan,
and then Major Rockley had to give place to Captain Bray and Lieutenant
Sir Harry Payne, officers in his regiment, the former a handsome, portly
dandy who puzzled his dearest friends, he was so poor but looked so
well.
Then followed other members of the fashionable world of Saltinville,
till nearly six, when the knocker ceased making the passage echo, the
last visitor had called, and Claire helped--half carried--her ladyship
back to bed, and watched her relock her jewels in the casket, which was
taken then to the dressing-table. Her ladyship was made comfortable,
partook of her dinner and tea, and then waited for the coming of Claire
for the last time that night.
Volume One, Chapter IV.
CLOUDS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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