Charles Lever - Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 1

“I declare, I ‘d like it of all things, would not you?” said the elder girl to Spicer, who had now begun to reflect that there was a kind of straw-yard season for men as well as for hunters, – when the great object was to live cheap and husband your resources; and as he ruminated over the lazy quietness of an existence that would cost nothing, when even his “Bell’s Life” should be inserted amongst the family extraordinaires, he vouchsafed to approve the scheme; and in his mumbling tone, in imitation of Heaven knows what celebrated sporting character, he grumbled out, “Make the governor go in for it by all means!”

Twining had entered into the project most eagerly. One of the most marked traits of his singular mind was not merely to enjoy his own pre-eminence in wealth over so many others, but to chuckle over all the possible mistakes which he had escaped and they had fallen into. To know that there was a speculation whose temptation he had resisted and which had engulfed all who engaged in it; to see the bank fail whose directorship he had refused, or the railroad smashed whose preference shares he had rejected, – this was an intense delight to him; and on such occasions was it that he slapped his lean legs most enthusiastically, and exclaimed, “What fun!” with the true zest of enjoyment.

To plant a man of O’Reilly’s stamp in such a soil seemed, therefore, about the best practical joke he had ever heard of; and so he walked him over the villa, discoursing eloquently on all the advantages of the project, – the great social position it would confer, the place he would occupy in the country, the soundness of the investment, the certainty of securing great matches for the girls. What a view that window opened of the Splugen Alps! What a delicious spot, this little room, to sip one’s claret of an autumn evening! Think of the dessert growing almost into the very dining-room, and your trout leaping within a yard of the breakfast-table! Austrians charmed to have you – make you a count – a Hof something or other, at once – give you a cross – great fun, eh? – Graf O’Reilly – sound admirably – do it, by all means!

While Twining’s attack was being conducted in this fashion, Lord Lackington was not less industriously pursuing his plan of campaign elsewhere. He had sauntered with Molly into the garden and a little pavilion at the end of it, where the lake was seen in one of its most picturesque aspects. It was a well-known spot to him; he had passed many an evening on that low window-seat, half dreamingly forgetting himself in the peaceful scene, half consciously recalling pleasant nights at Brookes’s and gay dinners at Carlton House. Here was it that he first grew hipped with matrimony, and so sated with its happiness that he actually began to long for any little disaster that might dash the smooth monotony of his life; and yet now, by one of those strange tricks memory plays us, he fancied that the moments he had once passed here had never been equalled in all his after-life.

“I’m certain, though you won’t confess,” said she, after one of his most eloquent bursts of remembered enjoyment, – “I ‘m certain you were very much in love those days.”

“An ideal passion, perhaps, a poetized vision of that bright creature who should, one day or other, sway this poor heart;” and he flattened the creases of his spotless white waistcoat; “but if you mean that I knew of any, had ever seen any, until now, this very moment – ”

“Stop! remember your promise,” said she, laughing.

“But, charmante Molly, I ‘m only mortal,” said he, with an air of such superb humility that made her at once remember it was a peer who said it.

“Mortals must keep their words,” said she, pertly. “The condition on which I consented to accept your companionship was – But I need n’t remind you.”

“No, do not, dear Molly, for I shall be delighted to forget it. You are aware that no law ever obliged a man to do what was impossible; and that to exact any pledge from him to such an end is in itself an illegality. You little suspected, therefore, that it was you, not I, was the delinquent.”

“‘All I know is, that you assured me you ‘d not – you ‘d not talk nonsense,” said she, blushing deeply, half angry, half ashamed.

“Oh! never guessed you were here,” broke in Twining, as he peeped through the window. “Sweet spot – so quiet and secluded – capital fun!”

“There is such a view from this, papa,” said Molly, in some confusion at Twining’s bantering look; “come round and see it.”

“I have just been telling this dear girl of yours, O’Reilly, that you ought to make this place your own,” said Lord Lackington. “Don’t fancy you ‘d be out of the world here. Why, there ‘s the Villa d’Este, a European celebrity at once; it will be thronged next year to suffocation. The ‘Galignani,’ I see, has already mentioned myself and Lady Lackington as among the visitors. These things have their effect The press in our day is an estate.”

“Indeed, I ‘m sure of it. There was a cousin of my wife’s drew his two hundred a year out of the ‘Tyrawley Express,’ – a daily little paper, that, maybe, your Lordship never seen.”

“When I said an estate, sir, I rather alluded to a recognized condition of power and influence than to mere wealth. Not, I will add, that I am one of those who approve of this consummation; nor can I see how men of my order can ever so regard it.”

“Well,” said O’Reilly, sighing, as though the confession cost something, “there ‘s nothing equal to a newspaper. I ‘m reading ‘Saunders’ this eight-and-forty years, and I own to you I never found one I liked so much. For you see, my Lord, it’s the same with a paper as with your house, – you ought to know where to lay your hand on what you want. Now, you might as well put me in Buckingham Palace, and tell me to find my bedroom, as give me the ‘Times’ and bid me discover the Viceregal Court. If they mention it at all, it ‘s among the accidents and offences.”

“Castle festivities – Patrick’s Hall – great fun!” said Twining, laughing pleasantly, for he cherished some merry recollections of these hospitalities.

“Have you – But of course you were too young for presentation,” said his Lordship to Molly.

“We were n’t out; but, in any case, I ‘m sure we ‘d not have been there,” said Molly.

“The pleasure of that presentation may perhaps be reserved for me, who knows?” said the Viscount, graciously. “If our people come in, it is the post they ‘d offer me.”

“Lord-Lieutenant!” said Molly, opening her eyes to the fullest.

“Even so, ma belle . Shall we rehearse the ceremony of presentation? Twining, do you perform the Chamberlain. Stand aside, O’Reilly; be a gentleman at large, or an Ulster King-at-arms. Now for it!” And so saying, he drew himself proudly up to an attitude of considerable dignity, while Twining, muttering to himself, “What fun!” announced aloud, “Miss Molly O’Reilly, your Excellency;” at which, and before she was aware, his Excellency stepped one step in advance, and sainted her on either cheek with a cordiality that covered her with blushes.

“That ‘s not it, at all, I ‘m certain,” said she, half angrily.

“On my life, it’s the exact ceremony, and no more,” said the Viscount. Then resuming the performance, he added, “Take care, Twining, that she is put on your list for the balls. O’Reilly, your niece is charming.”

“My niece – sure she ‘s – ”

“You forget, my worthy friend, that we are enacting Viceroy, and cannot charge our memory with the ties of kindred.”

Spicer now came up to say that a thunderstorm was threatening, and that the wisest course would probably be to land the luncheon and remain where they were till the hurricane should pass over. The proposition was at once approved of, and the party were soon busily occupying themselves in the cares for the entertainment; all agreeing that they felt no regret at being separated from the other boat, which had proceeded up the lake; in fact, as Mr. O’Reilly said, “they were snugger as they were, without the Roosians,” – a sentiment in various ways acknowledged by the rest.