The Life and Legacy of Harriette Wilson. Harriette Wilson
replied Amy, "I believe he is going to die he has grown so very dull and heavy. Do you know, I told him a very interesting story one day last week, and he did not at all listen to it; and before I had finished repeating it a second time he fell fast asleep."
"Poor fellow!" said Street: he could not stand the second edition.
Mr. Graham sat on my left hand, and was as attentive to me as possible. Graham was a beauty; a very Apollo in form, with handsome features, particularly his teeth and eyes; sensible too, and well educated.
"I brought you two together, because I knew you would fall in love with each other," said Lowther.
"How impossible," thought I, as the stranger in Hyde Park, as I last saw him, or fancied I saw him blush, crossed my mind. I was not disposed to admire anything else, indeed; but I rather think Graham was pedantic.
He spoke to me a good deal of Fred Lamb, with whom he had been travelling on the Continent.
"Fred Lamb has often been jealous of me," said Graham; "but he would be jealous of any man; yet I have always liked Fred much better than ever he liked me."
"His passion for women is so very violent," I observed, "that somehow or other, it disgusted me."
"All ladies are not so refined," replied Graham, laughing.
"Perhaps not," answered I; "perhaps I may not be so refined when I like my man better."
Street was all this time making hard love to Fanny. Poor Street though a very pleasant man, is, as he knows, a very ugly one. Fanny's extreme good nature was always a Refuge for the Destitute. If ever there was a lame, a deaf, a blind, or an ugly man, in our society, Fanny invariably made up to that man immediately, to put him in countenance. Nay, she would, I believe, have made up to the Duke of Devonshire, blind, deaf, absent and all, had he fallen in her way.
At this moment, my ear caught the word cruel, as applied to Fanny by Street.
"Quite the reverse, Fanny is all goodness," I exclaimed.
"Yes," rejoined Street, "as far as words go."
"It is you, Mr. Street, who cruelly neglect me, on the contrary," said Fanny, laughing.
"Never!" answered Street, laying his hand on his heart.
"Then why did you not call at the oilshop?" Fanny asked; alluding to the place where she had formerly been lodging for a short time in Park Street, and to which she had invited Street.
"Wounded pride!" observed Street.
"She would have poured oil into your wounds," said Lord Hertford.
"I'll thank you to pass me another bottle of this bad claret," squeaked out Croker; "for I must be candid enough to say that I like it much."
"I wont abuse it again," Lord Hertford observed, "for fear you should get drunk."
I now grew tired of waiting for Amy to make a first move, and began to think she was ill disposed in the humility of her heart to take upon her the privilege of eldest sister: so I made it for her and we retired to Lowther's drawing-room, from which we took a peep into his dressing-room, where we found a set of vile, dirty combs, brushes, towels, and dressing-gowns. Lowther, who always has a pain in his liver, and knows not how to take kindly to his bottle, entered his apartment, just as we were loudest in our exclamations of horror and dismay, as these said dirty objects offered themselves to our view.
"For heaven's sake," said Amy, with whom Lowther was certainly in love, "do turn away your valet, and burn these nasty, dirty brushes and things."
"It will be no use, I believe," replied Lowther; "for every valet will copy his master."
"What! then," exclaimed Amy, "you admit the master is dirty?"
Lowther feared he must plead guilty.
"I am very glad I ran away from you," retorted Amy, who had gone with him into the country, and afterwards cut him because he did not ask for a separate dressing-room at the inns on the road.
The other gentlemen soon joined us in the drawing-room, drank their coffee, and then we were all on to the Opera.
I had the honour of taking Mr. Graham there in my carriage with Fanny. Amy went with Lord Lowther.
We found Julia in our private box, alone and half asleep, dressed very elegantly; and, in my opinion, looking very interesting and well.
"What, alone?" said I. "Why do you not make the men more civil?" and I introduced her to young Graham.
Julia had lately got nearly to the bottom of her heroics with Cotton. She was ashamed to admit the idea even to herself; she never would own it to me: but the fact was, she was tired of Cotton, and dying, and sighing, and longing secretly for something new. Young and beautiful, her passions, like those of a man, were violent and changeable; in addition to which she had lately suffered every possible indignity and inconvenience which debts and duns could inflict; besides, Fanny and I, who knew that Mr. Cotton had a wife and large family at home, had laboured with all our hearts to disgust Julia with Cotton, believing that it would be for the good of both that they separated for ever. Cotton had not a shilling to spare for the support of Julia's children; and Julia's accouchements took place regularly once in eleven months. She had often vainly applied to her parents, as well as to her uncle, Lord Carysfort, who only wrote to load her with reproaches.
As soon as Graham had left us, Julia expressed her admiration of him, in very warm terms.
"He has no money," said Fanny; "besides, I can see that he is making up to Harriette. Do, my dear Julia, consider all your beautiful children; and, if you can leave Cotton to his poor wife, and must form another connection, let it be with some one who can contribute to the support of your young family."
Julia assured us she was at that moment actually in expectation of being arrested; and she entreated that Fanny or I would make an application to some of her noble relations, which she promised to do.
This point being decided, she again talked of Graham's beauty, wondered where he was, and anxiously inquired whether I was sure that he had taken a fancy for me.
"Not a bit sure," I replied. "I know nothing at all of the matter, neither do I care."
Fanny then related all about my last meeting with my stranger and his dog to Julia, who seemed to understand my sensations much better than Fanny did.
"Oh, mon Dieu?" interrupted I, "there is in that box next to Lady Foley's, a man—no, it is still handsomer than my stranger! and yet" (the stranger turned his head towards our side of the house)—"Oh!" continued I, taking hold of Fanny's hand, in a fit of rapture, "it is he! only his hat, till now, concealed that beautiful head of hair."
"Where? where?" cried out they both at once.
"Oh! that some one would come into our box now and tell us who he is!" I exclaimed.
"How provoking you are," said Julia. "Why do not you point out the man to us?"
"It is that man, who is laughing.—Oh! I had no idea that his teeth were so very beautiful!"
"Dear me, how tiresome," observed Fanny, quietly. "If you will not tell us which is your man let us talk of something else."
"He is there," replied I, "next to Lady Foley's box, leaning on his arm."
Julia put her glass to her eye as usual; being remarkably short-sighted she could distinguish nothing without it.
"I know him," said Julia, after fixing him for some time.
"Not much?" I observed, almost breathless. "Did you ever speak to him?"
"I have met him in society, when I was a girl," continued Julia; "but I was intimate with a girl, to whom, when young, he proposed. Her wedding clothes were made; she used to sleep in my room, with his picture round her neck. She adored him beyond all that could be imagined of love and devotion, and within a few days of their proposed marriage he declared off. His excuse was that his father refused his consent."
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