Ethel Churchill/Chapter 79
CHAPTER III.
THE INFLUENCE OF AN INVITATION.
Life is so little in its vanities,
So mean, and looking to such worthless aim,
Truly the dust, of which we are a part,
Predominates amid mortality.
Great crimes have something of nobility;
Mighty their warning, vast is their remorse:
But these small faults, that make one half of life
Belong to lowest natures, and reduce
To their own wretched level nobler things.
Lady Marchmont was listlessly turning over the praises of her beauty, duly set forth by heroic verse in a poem just dedicated to her, when there came one of those solemn raps at the door, which she well knew announced Lord Marchmont. An expression of disgust passed over her features, and a slight elevation of the shoulders accompanied the answer, "Come in!" His lordship made his appearance; and there was a look as nearly approaching to anxiety as his immovable face could well convey. He inquired after her ladyship's health with an unusual air of empressement.
"But I need not ask," added he, "for I never saw you looking so lovely. Ah! I see that you are yourself the subject of your studies; you must permit me to read your praises to you."
He took up the book, and began to read the commonplace compliments it contained with a solemn and emphatic air, which, if possible, added to their absurdity. Lady Marchmont looked what she was—thoroughly bored; fortunately, her husband soon held that he had played the agreeable quite long enough; and, nothing doubting his success, thought it was the very time to introduce what was the real object of his visit.
"I hear," said he, "that the preparations for the fête Sir Robert Walpole is about to give at Chelsea, are on a scale of unusual magnificence!"
"Are they?" replied Lady Marchmont.
"He intends," continued his lordship, "to give a dinner, a tea-party, a ball, and supper!"
"Does he?" replied Henrietta.
"Why you answer," exclaimed her husband, pettishly, "as if you did not care about the matter?"
"I do not care!" was the answer
"Now really," returned he, "that is carrying conjugal obedience too far. I can assure you, that I do not expect a pretty woman like yourself to be indifferent to a ball, though it be given by the minister!"
Finding that this compliment was received in silence, he went on:—
"Now, own the truth,—are you not very sorry that my having been in the opposition precludes your going to the most brilliant fête of the season?"
"I cannot be sorry," replied she, "for what I do not care the least about!"
"Ah!" returned her husband, "I know candour is not a feminine accomplishment: but what would you say if I told you that you might go?"
"Why I should say," answered Henrietta, "that I shall not be asked!"
"But you can easily procure an invitation," said Lord Marchmont, who now succeeded in making his wife at least look astonished. "In short," continued he, assuming an air of mystery, "many circumstances have occurred lately that give me a very different view of things to what I had formerly. I believe Sir Robert Walpole to have been a most misrepresented man: I owe him some atonement; my sense of justice dictates it: I mean to go to his fête!"
"Do you?" was the brief answer.
"Yes, I feel that I ought; and with me, to feel that I ought to do a thing, is to do it!" added he, looking quite Roman with excess of virtue.
He was obliged, however, to be content with his own applause, for his wife remained silent; and, after a pause of conscious self-satisfaction, he continued:—
"I do not expect you to comprehend my motives."
"I am glad," said Henrietta, quietly, "that you do not expect impossibilities!"
"Oh, no!" said he, with a most imperturbable air, "I always make allowance for feminine weakness; I do not expect your mind to follow mine!"
"Now, the Fates forbid that it should!" thought Henrietta.
"I am aware," Lord Marchmont proceeded to say, "of my own political importance, and I have been wrong in allowing my personal feeling to the prince to bias my conduct; but every day shows more the weakness of Frederick's character. I cannot serve him and my country; I shall, therefore, go to Sir Robert's fête!"
"A most proper and patriotic resolve!" replied the countess: "I only see one objection"
"Oh, you find some objection to any thing that I propose!" interrupted her husband: "why should I not go, if I please, to Sir Robert's ball?"
"Only," answered Henrietta, "that you have not an invitation!"
"It will be very easy," persisted his lordship, "to obtain one."
"Not so very easy," replied she: "why, the invitations are as much canvassed for, as a seat in parliament!"
"The greater the difficulty, the greater the triumph in procuring one: that triumph I reserve for you," said her husband, bowing with an excess of conjugal gallantry.
"For me!" cried Henrietta, with unqualified surprise.
"You will readily suppose," replied Lord Marchmont, resuming all his solemnity, "that I never propose a plan, without having duly considered the most eligible method of carrying it into execution. I have designed, it remains for you to execute!"
Henrietta gave a silent bow of inquiry.
"I am aware," continued her husband, "what a favourite you are with Lord Norbourne: I am not jealous, as I know it is on his daughter's account. What a melancholy thing her death was! such a pity she should have died before this fête! You can make some little allusion to your friendship for her, and ask Lord Norbourne to procure us tickets."
"I do not like to ask him," said Lady Marchmont.
"O, no! of course, you like nothing that I propose!" interrupted his lordship. "I request, however, that you will attend to my commands, not to your own capricious likings and dislikings!"
"I will obey, my lord," replied Henrietta, with a mock-tragedy air.
Lord Marchmont rose from his seat, saying. "I hope you fully understand the importance of your mission. It is no trifle to have my political adhesion to give in: you will be a welcome visitor!"
"I do not doubt it!" said Henrietta.
"You had better complete your toilette, for I have ordered the carriage: I never neglect any thing:" and, with these words, his lordship bowed out of the room.
"I know Lord Norbourne's kindness," said Henrietta, "or I would have refused, print blank. I wonder what has occasioned this sudden change: but of what use is it hunting for some motive, too small to discover."