The Actress in High Life | Page 7

see," said Captain Hatton, "that though this is a monastic
house, and this a fast day, we shall not have to dine orthodoxly, on
bacalhao and sardinhas."
"Nor be bored with the long Latin grace," said Major Warren, "which
the very walls of the refectory are tired of hearing and not
understanding."
"Would rendering it into English reconcile you to its length?" asked
Lady Mabel.
"Not in the least. I think nothing so heterodox as a long grace, while
soup and fish grow cold."
"I am told," said Lady Mabel, ascending to the apartment above, "that
this was the abbot's own room."
"That is very likely," said Captain Hatton, "from its neighborhood to
the kitchen."
"It is not exactly the apartment," she continued, "which I would design
for a lady's withdrawing room. But, if it satisfied the holy father before
it was thus improved, it is too good for a heretic like me. I sometimes
feel myself a profane intruder here, and, when I call to mind whom this
building belongs to, and see so many red-coated gentry stalking at ease
through dormitory, refectory and cloisters, I think of rooks who have

fled the rookery, before a flock of flamingoes who usurp their place."
"The pious crows," said Captain Hatton, "would forgive our intrusion,
did they see the bird of paradise that attracts us hither."
"Put a weight on your fancy, Captain Hatton," said Lady Mabel. "Such
another flight and it may soar away altogether. Pray observe the
admirable effect of those hangings, with which Captain Cranfield has
concealed the dark and narrow passage that leads to the oratory."
Major Warren was provoked at the general admiration of Cranfield's
taste and skill, and stung by the repeated thanks with which Lady
Mabel repaid his labors, so he endeavored to turn them into ridicule.
"It is a thousand pities, Cranfield, that these happy designs should
perish with their temporary use. Let me beg you to send a sketch of
them to Colonel Sturgeon, the head of your department. They should be
preserved among the draughts and plans of the engineer corps."
Cranfield was about to make angry answer, but Lady Mabel anticipated
him by saying: "doubtless, whenever Colonel Sturgeon has occasion to
turn monkish cloisters into ladies' bowers, it will save him a world of
trouble to avail himself of these designs."
At this moment dinner was announced. Colonel Bradshawe, resolving
that his juniors should not have Lady Mabel all to themselves, availed
himself of his right of precedence, to hand her into the room, and seated
himself at her right hand.
Full thirty guests occupied the space between her father's portly, but
martial figure, and her seat at the head of the table; and though,
Minerva-like in air and form, she presided there with exquisite grace,
she shrunk from this long array, and sought a kind of privacy in
devoting her attention, somewhat exclusively, to the senior colonel of
the brigade. Knowing how important a matter dining was in his
estimation, she soon made a conquest of him, by her judicious care in
supplying his wants, tickling his palate, and coinciding in his tastes.
She even, for his benefit, called into requisition the unwilling service of

old Moodie, who had habitually taken his post behind her, like a
sentinel, not troubling himself about the wants of the guests. The
colonel might have choked with thirst before he spontaneously handed
him a decanter.
Colonel Bradshawe having made himself comfortable, next sought to
make himself agreeable. "What a delightful contrast between my
situation to-day, and this day year, Lady Mabel."
"Where were you then?"
"About this hour we were fording the Aguada, in a snow storm, to
invest Ciudad Rodrigo."
"That was somewhat different from our present occupation."
"We soon finished that little job, however, before we had suffered
many privations there. But it proved to be but the opening of a
campaign, which I began, after a time, to think would never come to an
end."
"And, unhappily," said Lady Mabel, "it did not end quite so well as it
promised to do."
"Fortune is a fickle mistress, and fond of showing her character in
war," said the colonel. "Sometimes she favors one party with a run of
luck, then shifts suddenly over to the other side. So with individuals,
only there she is most apt to work at cross purposes. One pretty fellow
deserves to live forever, and gets knocked on the head in the first
skirmish; another deserves to rise, and all his good service is
overlooked or forgotten; another gets praise and promotion for what he
never did, or ought never to have done. Some men have such luck!
There is L'Isle now, who, after being pushed on as fast as money and
family interest could shove him; what next