Tales and Novels, vol 6 | Page 2

Lady Clonbrony--to Miss Nugent--now Lady Clonbrony is introducing him to Miss Broadhurst."
"I see him now," said Lady Langdale, examining him through her glass; "a very gentlemanlike looking young man indeed."
"Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner," said her grace.
"Heathcock!" said Lady Langdale, "who is Miss Broadhurst talking to?"
"Eh! now really--'pon honour--don't know," replied Heathcock.
"And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know," pursued Lady Langdale, "though I don't recollect seeing him any where before."
"Really now!" was all the satisfaction she could gain from the insensible, immovable colonel. However, her ladyship, after sending a whisper along the line, gained the desired information, that the young gentleman was Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady Clonbrony--that he was just come from Cambridge--that he was not yet of age--that he would be of age within a year; that he would then, after the death of somebody, come into possession of a fine estate by the mother's side; "and therefore, Cat'rine, my dear," said she, turning round to the daughter who had first pointed him out, "you understand we should never talk about other people's affairs."
"No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord Colambre did not hear what you and Mrs. Dareville were saying!"
"How could he, child?--He was quite at the other end of the world."
"I beg your pardon, ma'am--he was at my elbow, close behind us; but I never thought about him till I heard somebody say 'my lord--'"
"Good heavens!--I hope he didn't hear."
"But, for my part, I said nothing," cried Lady Langdale.
"And for my part, I said nothing but what every body knows," cried Mrs. Dareville.
"And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing," said the duchess. "Do, pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to see what my people are about, and what chance we have of getting away to-night."
"The Duchess of Torcaster's carriage stops the way!"--a joyful sound to Colonel Heathcock and to her grace, and not less agreeable, at this instant, to Lady Langdale, who, the moment she was disembarrassed of the duchess, pressed through the crowd to Lady Clonbrony, and addressing her with smiles and complacency, was charmed to have a little moment to speak to her--could not sooner get through the crowd--would certainly do herself the honour to be at her ladyship's gala. While Lady Langdale spoke, she never seemed to see or think of any body but Lady Clonbrony, though, all the time, she was intent upon every motion of Lord Colambre; and whilst she was obliged to listen with a face of sympathy to a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony's, about Mr. Soho's want of taste in ottomans, she was vexed to perceive that his lordship showed no desire to be introduced to her or to her daughters; but, on the contrary, was standing talking to Miss Nugent. His mother, at the end of her speech, looked round for "Colambre"--called him twice before he heard--introduced him to Lady Langdale, and to Lady Cat'rine, and Lady Anne ----, and to Mrs. Dareville; to all of whom he bowed with an air of proud coldness, which gave them reason to regret that their remarks upon his mother and his family had not been made sotto voce.
"Lady Langdale's carriage stops the way!" Lord Colambre made no offer of his services, notwithstanding a look from his mother. Incapable of the meanness of voluntarily listening to a conversation not intended for him to hear, he had, however, been compelled, by the pressure of the crowd, to remain a few minutes stationary, where he could not avoid hearing the remarks of the fashionable friends: disdaining dissimulation, he made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps his vexation was increased by his consciousness that there was some mixture of truth in their sarcasms. He was sensible that his mother, in some points--her manners, for instance--was obvious to ridicule and satire. In Lady Clonbrony's address there was a mixture of constraint, affectation, and indecision, unusual in a person of her birth, rank, and knowledge of the world. A natural and unnatural manner seemed struggling in all her gestures, and in every syllable that she articulated--a naturally free, familiar, good-natured, precipitate, Irish manner, had been schooled, and schooled late in life, into a sober, cold, still, stiff deportment, which she mistook for English. A strong Hibernian accent she had, with infinite difficulty, changed into an English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for right, she caricatured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary precision of her London phraseology betrayed her not to be a Londoner, as the man who strove to pass for an Athenian was detected by his Attic dialect. Not aware of her real danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the opposite side, in continual apprehension every time she opened her lips, lest some treacherous a or e, some