Pelham | Page 6

were utterly different from those of every one
else, you could not, in the least minutiae, discover in what the
difference consisted: this is, in my opinion, the real test of perfect
breeding. While you are enchanted with the effect, it should possess so
little prominency and peculiarity, that you should never be able to
guess the cause.
"Pray," said Lord Vincent to Mr. Wormwood, "have you been to P--this
year?"
"No," was the answer.
"I have, my lord," said Miss Trafford, who never lost an opportunity of
slipping in a word.
"Well, and did they make you sleep, as usual, at the Crown, with the

same eternal excuse, after having brought you fifty miles from town, of
small house--no beds--all engaged--inn close by? Ah, never shall I
forget that inn, with its royal name, and its hard beds--
"'Uneasy sleeps a head beneath the Crown!'"
"Ha, ha! Excellent!" cried Miss Trafford, who was always the first in at
the death of a pun. "Yes, indeed they did: poor old Lord Belton, with
his rheumatism; and that immense General Grant, with his asthma;
together with three 'single men,' and myself, were safely conveyed to
that asylum for the destitute."
"Ah! Grant, Grant!" said Lord Vincent, eagerly, who saw another
opportunity of whipping in a pun. "He slept there also the same night I
did; and when I saw his unwieldy person waddling out of the door the
next morning, I said to Temple, 'Well, that's the largest Grant I ever
saw from the Crown.'" [Note: It was from Mr. J. Smith that Lord
Vincent purloined this pun.]
"Very good," said Wormwood, gravely. "I declare, Vincent, you are
growing quite witty. Do you remember Jekyl? Poor fellow, what a
really good punster he was--not agreeable though--particularly at
dinner--no punsters are. Mr. Davison, what is that dish next to you?"
Mr. Davison was a great gourmand: "Salmi de perdreaux aux truffes,"
replied the political economist.
"Truffles!" said Wormwood, "have you been eating any?"
"Yes," said Davison, with unusual energy, "and they are the best I have
tasted for a long time."
"Very likely," said Wormwood, with a dejected air. "I am particularly
fond of them, but I dare not touch one--truffles are so very apoplectic--
you, I make no doubt, may eat them in safety."
Wormwood was a tall, meagre man, with a neck a yard long. Davison
was, as I have said, short and fat, and made without any apparent neck

at all-- only head and shoulders, like a cod-fish.
Poor Mr. Davison turned perfectly white; he fidgeted about in his chair;
cast a look of the most deadly fear and aversion at the fatal dish he had
been so attentive to before; and, muttering "apoplectic," closed his lips,
and did not open them again all dinner-time.
Mr. Wormwood's object was effected. Two people were silenced and
uncomfortable, and a sort of mist hung over the spirits of the whole
party. The dinner went on and off, like all other dinners; the ladies
retired, and the men drank, and talked indecorums. Mr. Davison left the
room first, in order to look out the word "truffle," in the Encyclopaedia;
and Lord Vincent and I went next, "lest (as my companion
characteristically observed) that d--d Wormwood should, if we stayed a
moment longer, 'send us weeping to our beds.'"

CHAPTER IV.
Oh! la belle chose que la Poste! --Lettres de Sevigne.
Ay--but who is it? --As you Like it.
I had mentioned to my mother my intended visit to Garrett Park, and
the second day after my arrival there came the following letter:--
"My dear Henry,
"I was very glad to hear you were rather better than you had been. I
trust you will take great care of yourself. I think flannel waistcoats
might be advisable; and, by-the-by, they are very good for the
complexion. Apropos of the complexion: I did not like that green coat
you wore when I last saw you--you look best in black--which is a great
compliment, for people must be very distingue in appearance, in order
to do so.
"You know, my dear, that those Garretts are in themselves any thing
but unexceptionable; you will, therefore, take care not to be too

intimate; it is, however, a very good house: all you meet there are
worth knowing, for one thing or the other. Remember, Henry, that the
acquaintance (not the friends) of second or third-rate people are always
sure to be good: they are not independent enough to receive whom they
like--their whole rank is in their guests: you may be also sure that the
menage will, in outward appearance at least, be quite comme il faut,
and for the same reason. Gain as much knowledge de l'art culinaire as
you can: it is an accomplishment absolutely necessary. You may