"Oh, pray do, Mr. Frederick, for I declare I admire you of all things!
You are quite yourself to-night. Here"s a newspaper, sir, pray let us have Counsellor Puff. It"s not late."
(_Frederick reads in a pompous voice._)
"As a delicate white hand has ever been deemed a distinguishing ornament in either s.e.x, Messrs. Valiant and Wise conceive it to be their duty to take the earliest opportunity to advertise the n.o.bility and gentry of Great Britain in general, and their friends in particular, that they have now ready for sale, as usual, at the Hippocrates" Head, a fresh a.s.sortment of new-invented, much-admired primrose soap. To prevent impositions and counterfeits, the public are requested to take notice, that the only genuine primrose soap is stamped on the outside, "Valiant and Wise.""
"Oh, you most incomparable mimic! "tis absolutely the counsellor himself. I absolutely must show you, some day, to my friend Lady Battersby; you"d absolutely make her die with laughing; and she"d quite adore you," said Mrs. Theresa, who was well aware that every pause must be filled with flattery. "Pray go on, pray go on. I shall never be tired, if I sit looking at you these hundred years."
Stimulated by these plaudits, Frederick proceeded to show how Colonel Epaulette blew his nose, flourished his cambric handkerchief, bowed to Lady Diana Periwinkle, and admired her work, saying, "Done by no hands, as you may guess, but those of Fairly Fair." Whilst Lady Diana, he observed, simpered so prettily, and took herself so quietly for Fairly Fair, not perceiving that the colonel was admiring his own nails all the while.
Next to Colonel Epaulette, Frederick, at Marianne"s particular desire, came into the room like Sir Charles Slang.
"Very well, brother," cried she, "your hand down to the very bottom of your pocket, and your other shoulder up to your ear; but you are not quite wooden enough, and you should walk as if your hip were out of joint. There now, Mrs. Tattle, are not those good eyes? They stare so like his, without seeming to see anything all the while."
"Excellent! admirable! Mr. Frederick. I must say that you are the best mimic of your age I ever saw, and I"m sure Lady Battersby will think so too. That is Sir Charles to the very life. But with all that, you must know he"s a mighty pleasant, fashionable young man when you come to know him, and has a great deal of sense under all that, and is of a very good family--the Slangs, you know. Sir Charles will come into a fine fortune himself next year, if he can keep clear of gambling, which I hear is his foible, poor young man! Pray go on. I interrupt you, Mr. Frederick."
"Now, brother," said Marianne.
"No, Marianne, I can do no more. I"m quite tired, and I will do no more," said Frederick, stretching himself at full length upon a sofa.
Even in the midst of laughter, and whilst the voice of flattery yet sounded in his ear, Frederick felt sad, displeased with himself, and disgusted with Mrs. Theresa.
"What a deep sigh was there!" said Mrs. Theresa; "what can make you sigh so bitterly? You, who make everybody else laugh. Oh, such another sigh again!"
"Marianne," cried Frederick, "do you remember the man in the mask?"
"What man in the mask, brother?"
"The man--the actor--the buffoon, that my father told us of, who used to cry behind the mask that made everybody else laugh."
"Cry! bless me," said Mrs. Theresa, "mighty odd! very extraordinary! but one can"t be surprised at meeting with extraordinary characters amongst that race of people, actors by profession, you know; for they are brought up from the egg to make their fortune, or at least their bread, by their oddities. But, my dear Mr. Frederick, you are quite pale, quite exhausted; no wonder--what will you have? a gla.s.s of cowslip-wine?"
"Oh no, thank you, ma"am," said Frederick.
"Oh yes; indeed you must not leave me without taking something; and Miss Marianne must have another macaroon. I insist upon it," said Mrs.
Theresa, ringing the bell. "It is not late, and my man Christopher will bring up the cowslip-wine in a minute."
"But, Sophy! and papa and mamma, you know, will come home presently,"
said Marianne.
"Oh! Miss Sophy has her books and drawings. You know she"s never afraid of being alone. Besides, to-night it was her own choice. And as to your papa and mamma, they won"t be home to-night, I"m pretty sure; for a gentleman, who had it from their own authority, told me where they were going, which is further off than they think; but they did not consult me; and I fancy they"ll be obliged to sleep out; so you need not be in a hurry about them. We"ll have candles."
The door opened just as Mrs. Tattle was going to ring the bell again for candles and the cowslip-wine. "Christopher! Christopher!" said Mrs.
Theresa, who was standing at the fire, with her back to the door, when it opened, "Christopher! pray bring----Do you hear?" but no Christopher answered; and, upon turning round, Mrs. Tattle, instead of Christopher, beheld two little black figures, which stood perfectly still and silent.
It was so dark, that their forms could scarcely be discerned.
"In the name of heaven, who and what may you be? Speak, I conjure you!
what are ye?"
"The chimney-sweepers, ma"am, an" please your ladyship."
"Chimney-sweepers!" repeated Frederick and Marianne, bursting out a-laughing.
"Chimney-sweepers!" repeated Mrs. Theresa, provoked at the recollection of her late solemn address to them. "Chimney-sweepers! and could not you say so a little sooner? Pray, what brings you here, gentlemen, at this time of night?"
"The bell rang, ma"am," answered a squeaking voice.
"The bell rang! yes, for Christopher. The boy"s mad, or drunk."
"Ma"am," said the taller of the chimney-sweepers, who had not yet spoken, and who now began in a very blunt manner; "ma"am, your brother desired us to come up when the bell rang; so we did."
"My brother? I have no brother, dunce," said Mrs. Theresa.
"Mr. Eden, madam."
"Ho, ho!" said Mrs. Tattle, in a more complacent tone, "the boy takes me for Miss Bertha Eden, I perceive"; and, flattered to be taken in the dark by a chimney-sweeper for a young and handsome lady, Mrs. Theresa laughed, and informed him "that they had mistaken the room; and they must go up another pair of stairs, and turn to the left."
The chimney-sweeper with the squeaking voice bowed, thanked her ladyship for this information, said, "Good-night to ye, quality"; and they both moved towards the door.
"Stay," said Mrs. Tattle, whose curiosity was excited; "what can the Edens want with chimney-sweepers at this time o" night, I wonder?
Christopher, did you hear anything about it?" said the lady to her footman, who was now lighting the candles.
"Upon my word, ma"am," said the servant, "I can"t say; but I"ll step down below and inquire. I heard them talking about it in the kitchen; but I only got a word here and there, for I was hunting for the snuff-dish, as I knew it must be for candles when I heard the bell ring, ma"am; so I thought to find the snuff-dish before I answered the bell, for I knew it must be for candles you rang. But, if you please, I"ll step down now, ma"am, and see about the chimney-sweepers."
"Yes, step down, do; and, Christopher, bring up the cowslip-wine, and some more macaroons for my little Marianne."
Marianne withdrew rather coldly from a kiss which Mrs. Tattle was going to give her; for she was somewhat surprised at the familiarity with which this lady talked to her footman. She had not been accustomed to these familiarities in her father and mother, and she did not like them.
"Well," said Mrs. Tattle to Christopher, who was now returned, "what is the news?"
"Ma"am, the little fellow with the squeaking voice has been telling me the whole story. The other morning, ma"am, early, he and the other were down the hill sweeping in Paradise Row. Those chimneys, they say, are difficult; and the square fellow, ma"am, the biggest of the two boys, got wedged in the chimney. The other little fellow was up at the top at the time, and he heard the cry; but in his fright, and all, he did not know what to do, ma"am; for he looked about from the top of the chimney, and not a soul could he see stirring, but a few that he could not make attend to his screech; the boy within almost stifling too. So he screeched, and screeched, all he could; and by the greatest chance in life, ma"am, old Mr. Eden was just going down the hill to fetch his morning walk."
"Ay," interrupted Mrs. Theresa, "friend Ephraim is one of your early risers."
"Well?" said Marianne, impatiently.
"So, ma"am, hearing the screech, he turns and sees the sweep; and at once he understands the matter----"
"I"m sure he must have taken some time to understand it," interposed Mrs. Tattle, "for he"s the slowest creature breathing, and the deafest in company. Go on, Christopher. So the sweep did make him hear."
"So he says, ma"am; and so the old gentleman went in and pulled the boy out of the chimney, with much ado, ma"am."
"Bless me!" exclaimed Mrs. Theresa; "but did old Eden go up the chimney himself after the boy, wig and all?"
"Why, ma"am," said Christopher, with a look of great delight, "that was all as one, as the very "dentical words I put to the boy myself, when he telled me his story. But, ma"am, that was what I couldn"t get out of him, neither, rightly, for he is a churl--the big boy that was stuck in the chimney, I mean; for when I put the question to him about the wig, laughing like, he wouldn"t take it laughing like at all; but would only make answer to us like a bear, "He saved my life, that"s all I know"; and this over again, ma"am, to all the kitchen round, that cross-questioned him. But I finds him stupid and ill-mannered like, for I offered him a shilling, ma"am, myself, to tell about the wig; but he put it back in a way that did not become such as he, to no lady"s butler, ma"am; whereupon I turns to the slim fellow (and he"s smarterer, and more mannerly, ma"am, with a tongue in his head for his betters), but he could not resolve me my question either; for he was up at the top of the chimney the best part o" the time; and when he came down Mr. Eden had his wig on, but had his arm all bare and b.l.o.o.d.y, ma"am."
"Poor Mr. Eden!" exclaimed Marianne.
"Oh, miss," continued the servant, "and the chimney-sweep himself was so bruised, and must have been killed."