"Ay, Lord Dunboyne and five ladies!"
Such were the announcements that preceded us as we wended our way slowly on, while I could distinguish Mr. Rooney"s voice receiving and welcoming his guests, for which purpose he used a formula, in part derived from the practice of an auction-room.
"Walk in, ladies and gentlemen, walk in. Whist, tea, dancing, negus, and blind-hookey--delighted to see you--walk in"; and so, _da capo_, only varying the ritual when a lord or a baronet necessitated a change of t.i.tle.
"You"re quite right, O"Grady; I wouldn"t have lost this for a great deal," whispered the duke.
"Now, my lord, permit me," said Phil. "Hinton and I will engage Mr.
Rooney in conversation, while your grace can pa.s.s on and mix with the crowd."
"Walk in, walk in, ladies and---- Ah! how are you, Captain? This is kind of you---- Mr. Hinton, your humble servant---- Whist, dancing, blind-hookey, and negus--walk in--and, Captain Phil," added he in a whisper, "a bit of supper by-and-by below-stairs."
"I must tell you an excellent thing, Rooney, before I forget it," said O"Grady, turning the host"s attention away from the door as he spoke, and inventing some imaginary secret for the occasion; while I followed his grace, who now was so inextricably jammed up in the dense mob that any recognition of him would have been very difficult, if not actually impossible.
For some time I could perceive that the duke"s attention was devoted to the conversation about him. Some half-dozen ladies were carrying on a very active and almost acrimonious controversy on the subject of dress; not, however, with any artistic pretension of regulating costume or colour, not discussing the rejection of an old or the adoption of a new mode, but with a much more practical spirit of inquiry they were appraising and valuing each other"s finery, in the most sincere and simple way imaginable.
"Seven-and-sixpence a yard, my dear; you "ll never get it less, I a.s.sure you." "That"s elegant lace, Mrs. Mahony; was it run, ma"am?" Mrs. Mahony bridled at the suggestion, and replied that, though neither her lace nor her diamonds were Irish---- "Six breadths, ma"am, always in the skirt,"
said a fat, little, dumpy woman, holding up her satin petticoat in evidence.
"I say, Hinton," whispered the duke, "I hope they won"t end by an examination of us. But what the deuce is going on here?"
This remark was caused by a very singular movement in the room.
The crowd which had succeeded to the dancers, and filled the large drawing-room from end to end, now fell back to either wall, leaving a s.p.a.ce of about a yard wide down the entire centre of the room, as though some performance was about to be enacted or some procession to march there.
"What can it be?" said the duke; "some foolery of O"Grady"s, depend upon it; for look at him up there talking to the band."
As he spoke, the musicians struck up the grand march in _Blue Beard_, and Mrs. Paul Rooney appeared in the open s.p.a.ce, in all the plenitude of her charms--a perfect blaze of rouge, red feathers, and rubies--marching in solemn state. She moved along in time to the music, followed by Paul, whose cunning eyes twinkled with more than a common shrewdness, as he peered here and there through the crowd. They came straight towards where we were standing; and while a whispered murmur ran through the room, the various persons around us drew back, leaving the duke and myself completely isolated. Before his grace could recover his concealment, Mrs. Rooney stood before him. The music suddenly ceased; while the lady, disposing her petticoats as though the object were to conceal all the company behind her, curtsied down to the very floor.
"Ah, your grace," uttered in an accent of the most melting tenderness, were the only words she could speak, as she bestowed a look of still more speaking softness. "Ah, did I ever hope to see the day when your Highness would honour----"
"My dear madam," said the duke, taking her hand with great courtesy, "pray don"t overwhelm me with obligations. A very natural, I hope a very pardonable desire, to witness hospitality I have heard so much of, has led me to intrude thus uninvited upon you. Will you allow me to make Mr.
Rooney"s acquaintance?"
Mrs. Rooney moved gracefully to one side, waving her hand with the air of a magician about to summons an attorney from the earth, when suddenly a change came over his grace"s features; and, as he covered his mouth with his handkerchief, it was with the greatest difficulty he refrained from an open burst of laughter. The figure before him was certainly not calculated to suggest gravity.
Mr. Paul Rooney for the first time in his life found himself the host of a viceroy, and, amid the fumes of his wine and the excitement of the scene, entertained some very confused notion of certain ceremonies observable on such occasions. He had read of curious observances in the East, and strange forms of etiquette in China, and probably, had the Khan of Tartary dropped in on the evening in question, his memory would have supplied him with some hints for his reception; but, with the representative of Britannic Majesty, before whom he was so completely overpowered, he could not think of, nor decide upon anything. A very misty impression flitted through his mind, that people occasionally knelt before a Lord Lieutenant; but whether they did so at certain moments, or as a general practice, for the life of him he could not tell. While, therefore, the dread of omitting a customary etiquette weighed with him on the one hand, the fear of ridicule actuated him on the other; and thus he advanced into the presence with bent knees and a supplicating look eagerly turned towards the duke, ready at any moment to drop down or stand upright before him as the circ.u.mstances might warrant.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 128]
Entering at once into the spirit of the scene, the duke bowed with the most formal courtesy, while he vouchsafed to Mr. Rooney some few expressions of compliment. At the same time, drawing Mrs. Rooney"s arm within his own, he led her down the room, with a grace and dignity of manner no one was more master of than himself. As for Paul, apparently unable to stand upright under the increasing load of favours that fortune was showering upon his head, he looked over his shoulder at Mrs.
Rooney, as she marched off in triumph, with the same exuberant triumph Young used to throw into Oth.e.l.lo, as he pa.s.sionately exclaims--
"Excellent wench I perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee!"
Not but that, at the very moment in question, the object of it was most ungratefully oblivious of Mr. Rooney and his affection.
Had Mrs. Paul Rooney been asked on the morning after her ball, what was her most accurate notion of Elysian bliss, she probably would have answered--leaning upon a viceroy"s arm in her own ball-room, under the envious stare and jealous gaze of eight hundred a.s.sembled guests. Her flushed look, her flashing eye, the trembling hand with which she waved her fan, the proud imperious step, all spoke of triumph. In fact, such was the halo of reverence, such the reflected brightness the representative of monarchy then bore, she felt it a prouder honour to be thus escorted, than if the Emperor of all the Russias had deigned to grace her mansion with his presence. How she loved to run over every imaginable t.i.tle she conceived applicable to his rank, "Your Royal Highness," "Your Grace," "Your n.o.ble Lordship," varying and combining them like a a child who runs his erring fingers over the keys of a pianoforte, and is delighted with the efforts of his skill.
While this kingly scene was thus enacting, the ballroom resumed its former life and vivacity. This indeed was owing to O"Grady. No sooner had his scheme succeeded of delivering up the duke into the hands of the Rooneys, than he set about restoring such a degree of turmoil, tumult, noise, and merriment, as, while it should amuse his grace, would rescue him from the annoyance of being stared at by many who never had walked the boards with a live viceroy.
"Isn"t it gloriously done, Hinton?" he whispered in my ear as he pa.s.sed.
"Now lend me your aid, my boy, to keep the whole thing moving. Get a partner as quick as you can, and let us try if we can"t do the honours of the house, while the master and mistress are basking in the sunshine of royal favour."
As he spoke, the band struck up "Haste to the Wedding!" The dancers a.s.sumed their places--Phil himself flying hither and thither, arranging, directing, ordering, countermanding, providing partners for persons he had never seen before, and introducing individuals of whose very names he was ignorant.
"Push along, Hinton," said he; "only set them going. Speak to every one--half the men in the room answer to the name of "Bob," and all the young ladies are "Miss Magees." Then go it, my boy; this is a great night for Ireland!"
This happy land, indeed, which, like a vast powder-magazine, only wants but the smallest spark to ignite it, is always prepared for an explosion of fun. No sooner than did O"Grady, taking out the fattest woman in the room, proceed to lead her down the middle to the liveliest imaginable country-dance, than at once the contagious spirit flew through the room, and dancers pressed in from every side. Champagne served round in abundance, added to the excitement; and, as eight-and-thirty couple made the floor vibrate beneath them, such a scene of noise, laughter, uproar, and merriment ensued, as it were difficult to conceive or describe.
CHAPTER X. A FINALE TO AN EVENING
A ball, like a battle, has its critical moment: that one short and subtle point, on which its trembling fate would seem to hesitate, ere it incline to this side or that. In both, such is the time for generalship to display itself--and of this my friend O"Grady seemed well aware; for, calling up his reserve for an attack in force, he ordered strong negus for the band; and ere many minutes, the increased vigour of the instruments attested that the order had been attended to.
"Right and left!" "Hands across!" "Here we are!" "This way, Peter!" "Ah!
Captain, you "re a droll crayture!" "Move along, alderman!" "That negus is mighty strong!" "The Lord grant the house is-----"
Such and such like phrases broke around me, as, under the orders of the irresistible Phil, I shuffled down the middle with a dumpy little school-girl, with red hair and red shoes; which, added to her capering motion, gave her a most unhappy resemblance to a cork fairy.
"You are a trump, Jack," said Phil. "Never give in. I never was in such spirits in my life. Two bottles of champagne under my belt, and a cheque for three hundred Paul has just given me without a sc.r.a.pe of my pen; it might have been five if I had only had presence of mind."
"Where is Miss Bellew all this time?" inquired I.
"I only saw her a moment; she looks saucy, and won"t dance."
My pride, somewhat stimulated by a fact which I could not help interpreting in Miss Bellew"s favour, I went through the rooms in search of her, and at length discovered her in a boudoir, where a whist-party were a.s.sembled. She was sitting upon a sofa, beside a tall, venerable-looking old man, to whom she was listening with a semblance of the greatest attention as I entered. I had some time to observe her, and could not help feeling struck how much handsomer she was than I had formerly supposed. Her figure, slightly above the middle size, and most graceful in all its proportions, was, perhaps, a little too much disposed to embonpoint; the character of her features, however, seemed to suit, if not actually to require as much. Her eyes of deep blue, set well beneath her brow, had a look of intensity in them that evidenced thought; but the other features relieved by their graceful softness this strong expression, and a nose short and slightly, very slightly _retrousse_, with a mouth, the very perfection of eloquent and winning softness, made ample amends to those who prefer charms purely feminine to beauty of a severer character. Her hair, too, was of that deep auburn through which a golden light seems for ever playing; and this, contrary to the taste of the day, she wore simply braided upon her temple and cheeks, marking the oval contour of her face, and displaying, by this graceful coquetry, the perfect chiselling of her features. Let me add to this, that her voice was low and soft in all its tones; and, if the provincialism with which she spoke did at first offend my ear, I learned afterwards to think that the breathing intonations of the west lent a charm of their own to all she said, deepening the pathos of a simple story, or heightening the drollery of a merry one. Yes, laugh if you will, ye high-bred and high-born denizens of a richer sphere, whose ears, attuned to the rhythm of Metastasio, softly borne on the strains of Donizetti, can scarce pardon the intrusion of your native tongue in the everyday concerns of life--smile if it so please ye; but from the lips of a lovely woman, a little, _a very little_ of the brogue is most seductive. Whether the subject be grave or gay, whether mirth or melancholy be the mood, like the varnish upon a picture, it brings out all the colour into strong effect, brightening the lights, and deepening the shadows; and then, somehow, there is an air of _navete_, a tone of simplicity about it, that appeals equally to your heart as your hearing.
Seeing that the conversation in which she was engaged seemed to engross her entire attention, I was about to retire without addressing her, when suddenly she turned round and her eyes met mine. I accordingly came forward, and, after a few of the commonplace civilities of the moment, asked her to dance.
"Pray, excuse me, Mr. Hinton; I have declined already several times. I have been fortunate enough to meet with a very old and dear friend of my father----"
"Who is much too attached to his daughter to permit her to waste an entire evening upon him. No, sir, if you will allow me, I will resign Miss Bellew to your care."
She said something in a low voice, to which he muttered in reply. The only words which I could catch--"No, no; very different, indeed; this is a most proper person"--seemed, as they were accompanied by a smile of much kindness, in some way to concern me; and the next moment Miss Bellew took my arm and accompanied me to the ball-room.
As I pa.s.sed the sofa where the duke and Mrs. Rooney were still seated, his grace nodded familiarly to me, with a gesture of approval; while Mrs. Paul clasped both her hands before her with a movement of ecstasy, and seemed about to bestow upon us a maternal blessing. Fearful of incurring a scene, Miss Bellew hastened on, and, as her arm trembled within mine, I could perceive how deeply the ridicule of her friend"s position wounded her own pride.
Meanwhile, I could just catch the tones of Mrs. Rooney"s voice, explaining to the duke Miss Bellow"s pedigree. "One of the oldest families of the land, your grace; came over with Romulus and Remus; and, if it were not for Oliver Cromwell and the Danes----" The confounded fiddles lost the rest, and I was left in the dark, to guess what these strange allies had inflicted upon the Bellew family.
The dancing now began, and only between the intervals of the cotillon had I an opportunity of conversing with my partner. Few and brief as these occasions were, I was delighted to find in her a tone and manner quite different from anything I had ever met before. Although having seen scarcely anything of the world, her knowledge of character seemed an instinct, and her quick appreciation of the ludicrous features of many of the company was accompanied by a nave expression, and at the same time a witty terseness of phrase, that showed me how much real intelligence lay beneath that laughing look. Unlike my fair cousin, Lady Julia, her raillery never wounded: hers were the fanciful combinations which a vivid and sparkling imagination conjures up, but never the barbed and bitter arrows of sarcasm. Catching up in a second any pa.s.sing absurdity, she could laugh at the scene, yet seem to spare the actor.
Julia, on the contrary, with what the French call _l"esprit moqueur_, never felt that her wit had hit its mark till she saw her victim writhing and quivering beneath her.
There is always something in being the partner of the belle of a ball-room. The little bit of envy and jealousy, whose limit is to be the duration of a waltz or quadrille, has somehow its feeling of pleasure.
There is the reflective flattery in the thought of a fancied preference, that raises one in his own esteem; and, as the muttered compliments and half-spoken praises of the bystanders fall upon your ears, you seem to feel that you are a kind of shareholder in the company, and ought to retire from business with your portion of the profits. Such, I know, were some of my feelings at the period in question; and, as I pulled up my stock and adjusted my sash, I looked upon the crowd about me with a sense of considerable self-satisfaction, and began really for the first time to enjoy myself.
Scarcely was the dance concluded, when a general movement was perceptible towards the door, and the word "supper," repeated from voice to voice, announced that the merriest hour in Irish life had sounded.