Her ladyship looked surprised.French was not very common among the honest trading class,or indeed any but the higher classes in England.
"But,"John continued,"I must dissent from Lady Caroline Brithwood,if she mingles the English people with 'le peuple Francais.'They are a very different class of beings.""Ah,ca ira,ca ira"--she laughed,humming beneath her breath a few notes out of that terrible song."But you know French--let us talk in that language;we shall horrify no one then.""I cannot speak it readily;I am chiefly self-taught.""The best teaching.Mon dieu!Truly you are made to be 'un hero'--just the last touch of grace that a woman's hand gives--had you ever a woman for your friend?--and you would be complete.But I cannot flatter--plain,blunt honesty for me.You must--you shall be--'l'homme du peuple.'Were you born such?--Who were your parents?"I saw John hesitate;I knew how rarely he ever uttered those names written in the old Bible--how infinitely sacred they were to him.
Could he blazon them out now,to gratify this woman's idle curiosity?
"Madam,"he said,gravely,"I was introduced to you simply as John Halifax.It seems to me that,so long as I do no discredit to it,the name suffices to the world.""Ah--I see!I see!"But he,with his downcast eyes,did not detect the meaning smile that just flashed in hers was changed into a tone of soft sympathy."You are right;rank is nothing--a cold,glittering marble,with no soul under.Give me the rich flesh-and-blood life of the people.Liberte--fraternite--egalite.Iwould rather be a gamin in Paris streets than my brother William at Luxmore Hall."Thus talked she,sometimes in French,sometimes in English,the young man answering little.She only threw her shining arts abroad the more;she seemed determined to please.And Nature fitted her for it.
Even if not born an earl's daughter,Lady Caroline would have been everywhere the magic centre of any society wherein she chose to move.
Not that her conversation was brilliant or deep,but she said the most frivolous things in a way that made them appear witty;and the grand art,to charm by appearing charmed,was hers in perfection.
She seemed to float altogether upon and among the pleasantnesses of life;pain,either endured or inflicted,was to her an impossibility.
Thus her character struck me on this first meeting,and thus,after many years,it strikes me still.I look back upon what she appeared that evening--lovely,gay,attractive--in the zenith of her rich maturity.What her old age was the world knows,or thinks it knows.
But Heaven may be more merciful--I cannot tell.Whatever is now said of her,I can only say,"Poor Lady Caroline!"It must have indicated a grain of pure gold at the bottom of the gold-seeming dross,that,from the first moment she saw him,she liked John Halifax.
They talked a long time.She drew him out,as a well-bred woman always can draw out a young man of sense.He looked pleased;he conversed well.Had he forgotten?No;the restless wandering of his eyes at the slightest sound in the room told how impossible it was he should forget.Yet he comported himself bravely,and I was proud that Ursula's kindred should see him as he was.
"Lady Caroline"(her ladyship turned,with a slightly bored expression,to her intrusive hostess),"I fear we must give up all expectation of our young friend to-night.""I told you so.Post-travelling is very uncertain,and the Bath roads are not good.Have you ever visited Bath,Mr.Halifax?""But she is surely long on the road,"pursued Mrs.Jessop,rather anxiously."What attendants had she?""Her own maid,and our man Laplace.Nay,don't be alarmed,excellent and faithful gouvernante!I assure you your fair ex-pupil is quite safe.The furore about her has considerably abated since the heiress-hunters at Bath discovered the melancholy fact that Miss March--""Pardon me,"interrupted the other;"we are among strangers.Iassure you I am quite satisfied about my dear child.""What a charming thing is affectionate fidelity,"observed her ladyship,turning once more to John,with a sweet,lazy dropping of the eyelids.
The young man only bowed.They resumed their conversation--at least,she did,talking volubly;satisfied with monosyllabic answers.
It was now almost supper-time--held a glorious hour at Norton Bury parties.People began to look anxiously to the door.
"Before we adjourn,"said Lady Caroline,"I must do what it will be difficult to accomplish after supper;"and for the first time a sharp,sarcastic tone jarred in her smooth voice."I must introduce you especially to my husband.Mr.Brithwood?""Madam."He lounged up to her.They were a diverse pair.She,in her well-preserved beauty,and Gallic artificial grace--he,in his coarse,bloated youth,coarser and worse than the sensualism of middle age.
"Mr.Brithwood,let me introduce you to a new friend of mine."The 'squire bowed,rather awkwardly;proving the truth of what Norton Bury often whispered,that Richard Brithwood was more at home with grooms than gentlemen.
"He belongs to this your town--you must have heard of him,perhaps met him.""I have more than had the pleasure of meeting Mr.Brithwood,but he has doubtless forgotten it.""By Jove!I have.What might your name be,sir?""John Halifax."
"What,Halifax the tanner?"
"The same."
"Phew!"--He began a low whistle,and turned on his heel.
John changed colour a little.Lady Caroline laughed--a thoughtless,amused laugh,with a pleasant murmur of "Bete!"--"Anglais!"--Nevertheless,she whispered to her husband--
"Mon ami--you forget;I have introduced you to this gentleman.""Gentleman indeed!Pooh!rubbish!Lady Caroline--I'm busy talking.""And so are we,most pleasantly.I only called you as a matter of form,to ratify my invitation.Mr.Halifax will,I hope,dine with us next Sunday?""The devil he will!"
