Barford Abbey | Page 6

so,--let me draw your eye, Miss Warley, from Sir Thomas Slater's, and fix it on Lord Allen's: Observe the situation!--Nothing can be more beautiful, the mind of its owner excepted.
That house on the left is Mr. Winter's.--Chance!--_Strange chance!_--has just put him in possession of an immense fortune, with which he is going to purchase a coronet for his daughter.--The fellow does not know what to do with his money, and has at last found an ape of quality, that will take it off his hands.
In this manner was Sir James characterising his neighbours, when a sudden and violent storm descended.--Half a mile from the _Dairy-house_, the rain fell in such torrents, that we were wet through, before a friendly oak offer'd us its shelter.--Never shall I forget my own or Lord Darcey's figure: he stripp'd himself of his coat, and would have thrown it over Lady Powis. Her Ladyship absolutely refusing it, her cloak being thick, mine the reverse, he forc'd it upon me. Sir James a assisting to put my arms into the sleeves.--Nor was I yet enough of the amazon:--they even compell'd me to exchange my hat for his, lapping it, about my ears.--What a strange _metamorphose!_--I cannot think of it without laughing!--To complete the scene, no exchange could be made, till we reach'd the Abbey.--In this droll situation, we waited for the coach; and getting, in, streaming from head to toe, it more resembled a bathing machine, than any other vehicle.
A gentleman, who, after a chace of ten hours, had taken shelter under the roof of Sir James, was, at our return, stamping up and down, the vestibule, disappointed both in his sport and dinner, shew'd an aspect cloudy as the heavens.--My mortification was scarce supportable, when I heard him roar out, in a voice like thunder, _What the devil have we here?_--I sprang to the top of the stairs in a moment,--there stopp'd to fetch breath; and again the same person, who had so genteelly accosted me, said to Lord Darcey,--Great improvements, upon my soul!--You are return'd a mighty pretty Miss.--What, is this the newest dress at Turin?--I heard no more; her Ladyship's woman came and shew'd me to an apartment,--bringing from her Lady's wardrobe a chints n��glig��e, and a suit of flower'd muslin; in which I was soon equipp'd.
Lady Powis sent to desire I would come to her dressing room; and, embracing me as I entered, said, with, an air of charming freedom, If you are not hurt, my dear, by our little excursion, I shall be quite in spirits this evening.
I am only hurt by your Ladyship's goodness. Indeed, return'd she, I have not a close heart, but no one ever found so quick a passage to it as yourself.--Oh! Lady Mary, this is surely a heart like yours!--A heart like Mrs. Whitmore's!--Was you not surpris'd, my dear, continued her Ladyship, to be so accosted by the gentleman below?--Take no notice of what is said by Mr. Morgan.--that is his name;--he means well, and never goes into any person's house, but where his oddities are indulg'd.--I am particularly civil to him; he was an old school-fellow of Sir James's, one whose purse was always open to him.--Sir James, Miss Warley, was rather addicted to extravagance in the beginning of his life;--that, in some respects, is revers'd latterly.--I have been a sufferer,--yet is he a tender generous husband. One day you shall know more.--I had a son, Miss Warley--Here Sir James interrupted her.--I come to tell you, said he, that Lord Darcey and myself are impatient for our tea.
O fie! Sir James, return'd Lady Powis, talk of impatience before an unmarried Lady!--If you go on at this rate, you will frighten her from any connection with your sex.--Not at all,--not at all, said Sir James; you take us for better for worse.--See there, Miss Warley smiles.--I warrant she does not think my impatience unseasonable.--I was going to reply, but effectually stopped by her Ladyship, who said, taking my hand, Come, my dear, let us go down.--I am fond of finding excuses for Sir James; we will suppose it was not he who was impatient:--we will suppose the impatience to be Lord Darcey's.
Whilst regaling ourselves at the tea table, Mr. Morgan was in the dining-parlour, brightening up his features by the assitance of the cook and butler.--We were congratulating each other on the difference of our present and late situation, declaring there was nothing to regret, when Mr. Morgan enter'd.--Regret! cry'd he,--what do you regret?--Not, I hope, that I have made a good dinner on a cold sirloin and pickled oysters?--Indeed I do, said Lady Powis:--Had I thought you so poor a caterer, I should have taken the office on myself.--Faith then, reply'd he, you might have eat it yourself:--Forty years, my good Lady, I have