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"The _ballet_ of Medea and Jason. It's a very fine thing, certainly; but one has seen it so often. Read on, my dear."
Isabella then read a pa.s.sage, which, notwithstanding Mrs. Harcourt's inclination to be displeased, captivated her ear, and seized her imagination.
"Slow out of earth, before the festive crowds, On wheels of fire, amid a night of clouds, Drawn by fierce fiends, arose a magic car, Received the queen, and, hov'ring, flamed in air.
As with raised hands the suppliant traitors kneel, And fear the vengeance they deserved to feel;
"Thrice, with parch'd lips, her guiltless babes she press'd, And thrice she clasp'd them to her tortured breast.
Awhile with white uplifted eyes she stood, Then plunged her trembling poniards in their blood.
Go, kiss your sire! go, share the bridal mirth!
She cried, and hurl'd their quiv'ring limbs on earth.
Rebellowing thunders rock the marble tow'rs, And red-tongucd lightnings shoot their arrowy show'rs: Earth yawns!--the cras.h.i.+ng ruin sinks!--o'er all Death with black hands extends his mighty pall."
"They are admirable lines, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Harcourt.
"I knew, mamma, you would like them," said Isabella; "and I'm sure I wish I had seen the ballet too."
"You were never at an opera," said Mrs. Harcourt, after Isabella had finished reading; "should you, either of you, or both, like to go with me to-night to the opera?"
"To-night, ma'am!" cried Isabella, in a voice of joy.
"To-night, mamma!" cried Matilda, timidly; "but you were not well this morning."
"But I am very well, now, my love; at least quite well enough to go out with you--let me give you some pleasure. Ring for Grace, my dear Matilda," added Mrs. Harcourt, looking at her watch, "and do not let us be sentimental, for we have not a moment to lose--we must prevail upon Grace to be as quick as lightning in her operations."
Grace was well disposed to be quick--she was delighted with what she called _the change of measures_;--she repeated continually, in the midst of their hurried toilette--
"Well, I am so glad, young ladies, you're going out with your _mamma_, at last--I never saw my mistress look so well as she does to-night."
Triumphant, and feeling herself to be a person of consequence, Grace was indefatigably busy, and Mrs. Harcourt thought that her talkative zeal was the overflowing of an honest heart.
After Mrs. Harcourt, with Isabella and Matilda, were gone to the opera, Favoretta, who had been sent to bed by her mother, because she was in the way when they were dressing, called to Grace to beg that she would close the shutters in her room, for the moon shone upon her bed, and she could not go to sleep.
"I wish mamma would have let me sit up a little longer," said Favoretta, "for I am not at all sleepy."
"You always go to bed a great deal earlier, you know, miss," said Grace, "when your governess is at home; I would let you get up, and come down to tea with me, for I'm just going to take my late dish of tea, to rest myself, only I dare not let you, because--"
"Because what?"
"Because, miss, you remember how you served me about the queen-cake."
"But I do not want you to give me any queen-cake; I only want to get up for a little while," said Favoretta.
"Then get up," said Grace: "but don't make a noise, to waken Master Herbert."
"Do you think," said Favoretta, "that Herbert would think it wrong?"
"Indeed, I don't think at all about what he thinks," said Mrs. Grace, tossing back her head, as she adjusted her dress at the gla.s.s; "and, if you think so much about it, you'd better lie down again."
"Oh! I can't lie down again," said Favoretta; "I have got my shoes on--stay for me, Grace--I'm just ready."
Grace, who was pleased with an opportunity of indulging this little girl, and who flattered herself that she should regain her former power over Favoretta's undistinguis.h.i.+ng affections, waited for her most willingly. Grace drank her _late_ dish of tea in her mistress's dressing-room, and did every thing in her power to humour "her sweet Favoretta."
Mrs. Rebecca, Mrs. Fanshaw's maid, was summoned; she lived in the next street. She was quite overjoyed, she said, at entering the room, to see Miss Favoretta--it was an age since she had a sight or a glimpse of her.
We pa.s.s over the edifying conversation of those two ladies--Miss Favoretta was kept awake, and in such high spirits by flattery, that she did not perceive how late it was--she begged to stay up a little longer, and a little longer.
Mrs. Rebecca joined in these entreaties, and Mrs. Grace could not refuse them; especially as she knew that the coach would not go for Mad. de Rosier till after her mistress's return from the opera.
The coachman had made this arrangement for his own convenience, and had placed it entirely to the account of his horses.
Mrs. Grace depended, rather imprudently, upon the coachman's arrangement; for Mad. de Rosier, finding that the coach did not call for her at the hour she had appointed, sent for a chair, and returned home, whilst Grace, Mrs. Rebecca, and Favoretta, were yet in Mrs. Harcourt's dressing-room.
Favoretta was making a great noise, so that they did not hear the knock at the door.
One of the housemaids apprised Mrs. Grace of Mad. de Rosier's arrival.
"She's getting out of her chair, Mrs. Grace, in the hall."
Grace started up, put Favoretta into a little closet, and charged her not to make the least noise _for her life_.--Then, with a candle in her hand, and a treacherous smile upon her countenance, she sallied forth to the head of the stairs, to light Mad. de Rosier.--"Dear ma'am! my mistress will be _so_ sorry the coach didn't go for you in time;--she found herself better after you went--and the two young ladies are gone with her to the opera."
"And where are Herbert and Favoretta?"
"In bed, ma'am, and asleep, hours ago.--Shall I light you, ma'am, this way, to your room?"
"No," said Mad. de Rosier; "I have a letter to write: and I'll wait in Mrs. Harcourt's dressing-room till she comes home."
"Very well, ma'am. Mrs. Rebecca, it's only Mad. de Rosier.--Mad. de Rosier, it's only Rebecca, Mrs. Fanshaw's maid, ma'am, who's here very often when my mistress is at home, and just stepped out to look at the young ladies' drawings, which my mistress gave me leave to show her the first time she drank tea with me, ma'am."
Mad. de Rosier, who thought all this did not concern her in the least, listened to it with cold indifference, and sat down to write her letter.
Grace fidgeted about the room, as long as she could find any pretence for moving any thing into or out of its place; and, at length, in no small degree of anxiety for the prisoner she had left in the closet, quitted the dressing-room.
As Mad. de Rosier was writing, she once or twice thought that she heard some noise in the closet; she listened, but all was silent; and she continued to write, till Mrs. Harcourt, Isabella, and Matilda, came home.
Isabella was in high spirits, and began to talk, with considerable volubility, to Mad. de Rosier about the opera.
Mrs. Harcourt was full of apologies about the coach; and Matilda rather anxious to discover what it was that had made a change in her mother's manner towards Mad. de Rosier.
Grace, glad to see that they were all intent upon their own affairs, lighted their candles expeditiously, and stood waiting, in hopes that they would immediately leave the room, and that she should be able to release her prisoner.
Favoretta usually slept in a little closet within Mrs. Grace's room, so that she foresaw no difficulty in getting her to bed.
"I heard!--did not _you_ hear a noise, Isabella?" said Matilda.
"A noise!--No; where?" said Isabella, and went on talking alternately to her mother and Mad. de Rosier, whom she held fast, though they seemed somewhat inclined to retire to rest.
"Indeed," said Matilda, "I did hear a noise in that closet."
"Oh dear, Miss Matilda," cried Grace, getting between Matilda and the closet, "it's nothing in life but a mouse."