MINEWVRING.
Master rose the nex morning with a dismal countinants — he seamed to think that his pa’s visit boded him no good. I heard him muttering at his brexfast, and fumbling among his hundred pound notes; once he had laid a parsle of them aside (I knew what he meant), to send ’em to his father. “But no,” says he at last, clutching them all up together again, and throwing them into his escritaw, “what harm can he do me? If he is a knave, I know another who’s full as sharp. Let’s see if we cannot beat him at his own weapons.” With that Mr. Deuceace drest himself in his best clothes, and marched off to the Plas Vandom, to pay his cort to the fair widdo and the intresting orfn.
It was abowt ten o’clock, and he propoased to the ladies, on seeing them, a number of planns for the day’s rackryation. Riding in the Body Balong, going to the Twillaries to see King Looy Disweet (who was then the raining sufferin of the French crownd) go to chapple, and, finely, a dinner at 5 o’clock at the Caffy de Parry; whents they were all to adjourn, to see a new peace at the theatre of the Pot St. Martin, called Sussannar and the Elders.
The gals agread to everythink, exsep the two last prepositiums. “We have an engagement, my dear Mr. Algernon,” said my lady. “Look — a very kind letter from Lady Bobtail.” And she handed over a pafewmd noat from that exolted lady. It ran thus:—
“FBG. ST. HONORE, Thursday, Feb. 15, 1817.
“MY DEAR LADY GRIFFIN — It is an age since we met. Harassing public duties occupy so much myself and Lord Bobtail, that we have scarce time to see our private friends; among whom, I hope, my dear Lady Griffin will allow me to rank her. Will you excuse so unceremonious an invitation, and dine with us at the embassy today? We shall be en petite comite, and shall have the pleasure of hearing, I hope, some of your charming daughter’s singing in the evening. I ought, perhaps, to have addressed a separate, note to dear Miss Griffin; but I hope she will pardon a poor diplomate, who has so many letters to write, you know.
“Farewell till seven, when I POSITIVELY MUST see you both. Ever, dearest Lady Griffin, your affectionate
“ELIZA BOBTAIL.”
Such a letter from the ambassdriss, brot by the ambasdor’s Shassure, and sealed with his seal of arms, would affect anybody in the middling ranx of life. It droav Lady Griffin mad with delight; and, long before my master’s arrivle, she’d sent Mortimer and Fitzclarence, her two footmin, along with a polite reply in the affummatiff.
Master read the noat with no such fealinx of joy. He felt that there was somethink a-going on behind the seans, and, though he could not tell how, was sure that some danger was near him. That old fox of a father of his had begun his M’Inations pretty early!
Deuceace handed back the letter; sneared, and poohd, and hinted that such an invitation was an insult at best (what he called a pees ally); and, the ladies might depend upon it, was only sent because Lady Bobtail wanted to fill up two spare places at her table. But Lady Griffin and Miss would not have his insinwations; they knew too fu lords ever to refuse an invitatium from any one of them. Go they would; and poor Deuceace must dine alone. After they had been on their ride, and had had their other amusemince, master came back with them, chatted, and laft; he was mighty sarkastix with my lady; tender and sentrymentle with Miss; and left them both in high sperrits to perform their twollet, before dinner.
As I came to the door (for I was as famillyer as a servnt of the house), as I came into the drawing-room to announts his cab, I saw master very quietly taking his pocket-book (or pot fool, as the French call it) and thrusting it under one of the cushinx of the sofa. What game is this? thinx I.
Why, this was the game. In abowt two hours, when he knew the ladies were gon, he pretends to be vastly anxious abowt the loss of his potfolio; and back he goes to Lady Griffinses to seek for it there.
“Pray,” says he, on going in, “ask Miss Kicksey if I may see her for a single moment.” And down comes Miss Kicksey, quite smiling, and happy to see him.
“Law, Mr. Deuceace!” says she, trying to blush as hard as ever she could, “you quite surprise me! I don’t know whether I ought, really, being alone, to admit a gentleman.”
“Nay, don’t say so, dear Miss Kicksey! for do you know, I came here for a double purpose — to ask about a pocket-book which I have lost, and may, perhaps, have left here; and then, to ask you if you will have the great goodness to pity a solitary bachelor, and give him a cup of your nice tea?”
NICE TEA! I thot I should have split; for I’m blest if master had eaten a morsle of dinner!
Never mind: down to tea they sat. “Do you take cream and sugar, dear sir?” says poar Kicksey, with a voice as tender as a tuttle-duff.
“Both, dearest Miss Kicksey!” answers master; who stowed in a power of sashong and muffinx which would have done honor to a washawoman.
I shan’t describe the conversation that took place betwigst master and this young lady. The reader, praps, knows y Deuceace took the trouble to talk to her for an hour, and to swallow all her tea. He wanted to find out from her all she knew about the famly money matters, and settle at once which of the two Griffinses he should marry.
The poar thing, of cors, was no match for such a man as my master. In a quarter of an hour, he had, if I may use the igspression, “turned her inside out.” He knew everything that she knew; and that, poar creature, was very little. There was nine thousand a year, she had heard say, in money, in houses, in banks in Injar, and what not. Boath the ladies signed papers for selling or buying, and the money seemed equilly divided betwigst them.
NINE THOUSAND A YEAR! Deuceace went away, his cheex tingling, his heart beating. He, without a penny, could nex morning, if he liked, be master of five thousand per hannum!
Yes. But how? Which had the money, the mother or the daughter? All the tea-drinking had not taught him this piece of nollidge; and Deuceace thought it a pity that he could not marry both.
. . . . . .
The ladies came back at night, mightaly pleased with their reception at the ambasdor’s; and, stepping out of their carridge, bid coachmin drive on with a gentlemin who had handed them out — a stout old gentlemin, who shook hands most tenderly at parting, and promised to call often upon my Lady Griffin. He was so polite, that he wanted to mount the stairs with her ladyship; but no, she would not suffer it. “Edward,” says she to the coachmin, quite loud, and pleased that all the people in the hotel should hear her, “you will take the carriage, and drive HIS LORDSHIP home.” Now, can you guess who his lordship was? The Right Hon. the Earl of Crabs, to be sure; the very old genlmn whom I had seen on such charming terms with his son the day before. Master knew this the nex day, and began to think he had been a fool to deny his pa the thousand pound.
Now, though the suckmstansies of the dinner at the ambasdor’s only came to my years some time after, I may as well relate ’em here, word for word, as they was told me by the very genlmn who waited behind Lord Crabseses chair.
There was only a “petty comity” at dinner, as Lady Bobtail said; and my Lord Crabs was placed betwigst the two Griffinses, being mighty ellygant and palite to both. “Allow me,” says he to Lady G. (between the soop and the fish), “my dear madam, to thank you — fervently thank you for your goodness to my poor boy. Your ladyship is too young to experience, but, I am sure, far too tender not to understand the gratitude which must fill a fond parent’s heart for kindness sh............