An unusual bustle seemed to pervade Beech Park as the carriage stopped, and augured well for its mistress’s intention of being more than usually vivacious. It was found to be occasioned by the arrival of her brother Lord Lindore’s servants and horses, with the interesting intelligence that his Lordship would immediately follow; and Lady Emily, wild with delight, forgot everything in the prospect of embracing her brother.
“How does it happen,” said Mary, when her cousin’s transports had a little subsided, “that you, who are in such ecstasies at the idea of seeing your brother, have scarcely mentioned his name to me?”
“Why, to tell you the truth, I fear I was beginning to forget there was such a person in the world. I have not seen him since I was ten years old. At that time he went to college, and from thence to the Continent. So all I remember of him is that he was very handsome and very good-humoured; and all that have heard of him is, that wherever he goes he is the ’glass of fashion and the mould of form’—not that he is much of a Hamlet, I’ve a notion, in other respects. So pray put off that Ophelia phiz, and don’t look as if you were of ladies most deject and wretched, when everybody else is gay and happy. Come, give your last sigh to the Lennox, and your first smile to Lindore."
“That is sympathy,” said Mary.
“Quelle fureur, dit-il,
quei aveugle caprice
Quand Ie diner est pret.”
“I HOPE your Lordship has no thoughts of waiting dinner for Lord Lindore?” asked Dr. Redgill, with a face of alarm, as seven o’clock struck, and neither dinner nor Lord Lindore appeared.
“I have no thoughts upon the subject,” answered Lord Courtland, as he turned over some new caricatures with as much nonchalance as if it had been mid-day.
“That’s enough, my Lord; but I suspect Mr. Marshall, in his officiousness, takes the liberty of thinking for you, and that we shall have no dinner without orders,” rising to pull the bell.
“We ought undoubtedly to wait for Frederick,” said Lady Juliana; “it is of no consequence when we sit down to table.”
A violent yell from the sleeping Beauty on the rug sounded like a summary judgment on her mistress.
“What is the meaning of this?” cried her Ladyship, flying to the offended fair one, in all the transports of pity and indignation; “how can you, Dr. Redgill, presume to treat my dog in such a manner?”
“Me treat your Ladyship’s dog!” exclaimed the Doctor in well-feigned astonishment—“Pon my honour!—I’m quite at a loss!—I’m absolutely confounded!”
“Yes! I saw you plainly give her a kick, and—”