I whisper her ladyship's name to Lankin. The Serjeant looks towards her with curiosity and awe. Even he, in his Pump Court solitudes, has heard of that star of fashion--that admired amongst men, and even women--that Diana severe yet ******, the accomplished Aurelia of Knightsbridge. Her husband has but a small share of HERqualities. How should he? The turf and the fox-chase are his delights--the smoking-room at the "Travellers'"--nay, shall we say it?--the illuminated arcades of "Vauxhall," and the gambols of the dishevelled Terpsichore. Knightsbridge has his faults--ah! even the peerage of England is not exempt from them. With Diana for his wife, he flies the halls where she sits severe and serene, and is to be found (shrouded in smoke, 'tis true,) in those caves where the contrite chimney-sweep sings his terrible death chant, or the Bacchanalian judge administers a satiric law. Lord Knightsbridge has his faults, then; but he has the gout at Rougetnoirbourg, near the Rhine, and thither his wife is hastening to minister to him.
"I have done," says Lady Knightsbridge, with a gentle bow, as she rises; "you may have this place, Mr. Titmarsh; and I am sorry my breakfast is over: I should have prolonged it had I thought that YOU were coming to sit by me. Thank you--my glove." (Such an absurd little glove, by the way). "We shall meet on the deck when you have done."And she moves away with an august curtsy. I can't tell how it is, or what it is, in that lady; but she says, "How do you do?" as nobody else knows how to say it. In all her actions, motions, thoughts, I would wager there is the same calm grace and harmony.
She is not very handsome, being very thin, and rather sad-looking.
She is not very witty, being only up to the conversation, whatever it may be; and yet, if she were in black serge, I think one could not help seeing that she was a Princess, and Serene Highness; and if she were a hundred years old, she could not be but beautiful. Isaw her performing her devotions in Antwerp Cathedral, and forgot to look at anything else there;--so calm and pure, such a sainted figure hers seemed.
When this great lady did the present writer the honor to shake his hand (I had the honor to teach writing and the rudiments of Latin to the young and intelligent Lord Viscount Pimlico), there seemed to be a commotion in the Kicklebury party--heads were nodded together, and turned towards Lady Knightsbridge: in whose honor, when Lady Kicklebury had sufficiently reconnoitred her with her eye-glass, the baronet's lady rose and swept a reverential curtsy, backing until she fell up against the cushions at the stern of the boat. Lady Knightsbridge did not see this salute, for she did not acknowledge it, but walked away slimly (she seems to glide in and out of the room), and disappeared up the stair to the deck.
Lankin and I took our places, the horse-dealer ****** room for us;and I could not help looking, with a little air of triumph, over to the Kicklebury faction, as much as to say, "You fine folks, with your large footman and supercilious airs, see what WE can do."As I looked--smiling, and nodding, and laughing at me, in a knowing, pretty way, and then leaning to mamma as if in explanation, what face should I see but that of the young lady at Mrs. Perkins's, with whom I had had that pleasant conversation which had been interrupted by the demand of Captain Hicks for a dance? So, then, that was Miss Kicklebury, about whom Miss Perkins, my young friend, has so often spoken to me: the young ladies were in conversation when I had the happiness of joining them; and Miss P. went away presently, to look to her guests)--that is Miss Fanny Kicklebury.
A sudden pang shot athwart my bosom--Lankin might have perceived it, but the honest Serjeant was so awe-stricken by his late interview with the Countess of Knightsbridge, that his mind was unfit to grapple with other subjects--a pang of feeling (which Iconcealed under the grin and graceful bow wherewith Miss Fanny's salutations were acknowledged) tore my heart-strings--as I thought of--I need not say--of HICKS.
He had danced with her, he had supped with her--he was here, on board the boat. Where was that dragoon? I looked round for him.
In quite a far corner,--but so that he could command the Kicklebury party, I thought,--he was eating his breakfast, the great healthy oaf, and consuming one broiled egg after another.
In the course of the afternoon, all parties, as it may be supposed, emerged upon deck again, and Miss Fanny and her mamma began walking the quarter-deck with a quick pace, like a couple of post-captains.
When Miss Fanny saw me, she stopped and smiled, and recognized the gentleman who had amused her so at Mrs. Perkins's. What a dear sweet creature Eliza Perkins was! They had been at school together. She was going to write to Eliza everything that happened on the voyage.
"EVERYTHING?" I said, in my particularly sarcastic manner.
"Well, everything that was worth telling. There was a great number of things that were very stupid, and of people that were very stupid. Everything that YOU say, Mr. Titmarsh, I am sure I may put down. You have seen Mr. Titmarsh's funny books, mamma?"Mamma said she had heard--she had no doubt they were very amusing.
"Was not that--ahem--Lady Knightsbridge, to whom I saw you speaking, sir?""Yes; she is going to nurse Lord Knightsbridge, who has the gout at Rougetnoirbourg.""Indeed! how very fortunate! what an extraordinary coincidence! We are going too," said Lady Kicklebury.
