Jack Hinton Part 33

CHAPTER XXVII. THE RACE BALL

Fast as had been the pace in the Major's tax-cart, it seemed to me as though the miles flew much more quickly by as I returned to the town.

How, indeed, they pa.s.sed I cannot well say; but, from the instant that I quitted Mr. Dillon's house to that of my arrival in Loughrea, there seemed to be but one brief, delightful moment. I have already said that Miss Bellew's manner was quite changed; and, as I a.s.sisted her from the carriage, I could not but mark the flas.h.i.+ng brilliancy of her eye and the sparkling animation of her features, lending, as they did, an added loveliness to her beauty.

'Am I to dance with you, Mr. Hinton?' said she laughingly, as I led her up the stairs. 'If so, pray be civil enough to ask me at once--otherwise, I must accept the first partner that offers himself.'

'How very stupid I have been! Will you, pray, let me have the honour?'

'Yes, yes--you shall have the honour; but, now that I think of it, you mustn't ask me a second time. We countryfolk are very prudish about these things; and, as you are the lion of the party, I should get into a sad sc.r.a.pe were I to appear to monopolise you.'

'But you surely will have compa.s.sion on me,' said I, in a tone of affected bashfulness. 'You know I am a stranger here--neither known to nor by any one save you.'

'_Ah_, _treve de modestie!_' said she coquettishly. 'My cousins will be quite delighted; and indeed, you owe them some _amende_ already.'

'As how?' said I. 'What have I done?'

'Rather, what have you left undone? I'll tell you. You have not come to the ball in your fine uniform, with your aiguillette and your showy feathers, and all the pride, pomp, and circ.u.mstance of your dignity as aide-de-camp. Learn, that in the west we love the infantry, doat on the dragoons, but we adore the staff. Now, a child would find it as difficult to recognise a plump gentleman without a star on his breast as a king, as we western ladies would to believe in the military features of a person habited in quiet black. You should, at least, have some symbol of your calling. A little bit of moustache like a Frenchman, a foreign order at your b.u.t.ton-hole, your arm in a sling--from a wound, as it were--even a pair of bra.s.s spurs would redeem you. Poor Mary here won't believe that you wear a great sword, and are the most warlike-looking person imaginable on occasions.'

'Dearest Louisa, how silly you are!' said her cousin, blus.h.i.+ng deeply.

'Pray, Mr. Hinton, what do you think of the rooms?'

This question happily recalled me to myself, for up to that very moment, forgetful of everything save my fair companion, I had not noticed our entrance into the ballroom, around which we were promenading with alow steps. I now looked up, and discovered that we were in the Town-hall, the great room of which building was generally reserved for occasions like the present. Nothing could be more simple than the decorations of the apartment. The walls, which were whitewashed, were tastefully ornamented with strings and wreaths of flowers suspended between the iron chandeliers, while over the chimney-piece were displayed the colours of the marching regiment then quartered in the town. Indeed, to do them justice, the garrison were the main contributors to the pleasure of the evening. By _them_ were the garlands so gracefully disposed; by _them_ were the rat-holes and other dangerous crevices in the floor caulked with oak.u.m; _their_ band was now blowing 'G.o.d Save the King' and 'Rule Britannia' alternately for the last hour, and _their_ officers, in all the splendour of scarlet, were parading the room, breaking the men's hearts with envy and the women's with admiration.

O'Grady was quite right--it is worth while being a soldier in Ireland; and, if such be the case in the capital, how much more true is it in Connaught? Would that some minute anatomist of human feeling could demonstrate that delicate fibre in an Irishwoman's heart that vibrates so responsively to everything in the army-list! In this happy land you need no nitrous oxide to promote the high spirits of your party; I had rather have a sub. in a marching regiment than a whole gasometer full of it. How often have I watched the sleepy eye of languid loveliness brighten up--how often have I seen features almost plain in their character a.s.sume a kind of beauty, as some red-coat drew near! Don't tell me of your insurrection acts, of your nightly outrages, your outbreaks, and your burnings, as a reason for keeping a large military force in Ireland--nothing of the kind. A very different object, indeed, is the reason--Ireland is garrisoned to please the ladies. The War Office is the most gallant of public bodies; and, with a true appreciation of the daughters of the west, it inundates the land with red-coats.

These observations were forced upon me as I looked about the room, and saw on every side how completely the gallant Seventy-something had cut out the country gentry. Poor fellows! you are great people at the a.s.sizes--you are strong men at a road-sessions--but you're mighty small folk indeed before your wives and daughters when looked at to the music of 'Paddy Carey,' and by the light of two hundred and fifty mutton-candles.

The country-dance was at length formed, and poor Mr. Harkin, the master of the ceremonies and Coryphaeus-in-ordinary of Loughrea, had, by dint of scarce less fatigue than I experienced in my steeplechase, by running hither and thither, imploring, beseeching, wheedling, coaxing, and even cursing, at length succeeded in a.s.sembling sixty-four souls in a double file upon the floor. Poor fellow! never was there a more disorderly force. n.o.body would keep his own place, but was always trying to get above his neighbour. In vain did he tell the men to stand at their own side. Alas! they thought that side their own where the ladies were also.

Then the band added to his miseries; for scarcely had he told them to play 'The Wind that shakes the Barley,' when some changed it to 'The Priest in his Boots,' and afterwards to 'The Dead March in Saul.' These were heavy afflictions; for be it known that he could not give way, as other men would in such circ.u.mstances, to a good outbreak of pa.s.sion--for Mr. Harkin was a public functionary, who, like all other functionaries, had a character to sustain before the world. When kings are angry, we are told by Shakespeare, Schiller, and others, they rant it in good royal style. Now, when a dancing-master is excited by pa.s.sion, he never loses sight of the unities. If he flies down the floor to chide the little fat man that is talking loudly, he contrives to do it with a step, a spring, and a hop, to the time of one, two, three.

Is there a confusion in the figure, he advances to rectify it with a _cha.s.se_ rigadoon. Does Mr. Somebody turn his toes too much out, or is Miss So-and-so holding her petticoats too high, he fugles the correction in his own person--first imitating the deformity he would expose, and then displaying the perfection he would point to.

On the evening in question, this gentleman afforded me by far the most of the amus.e.m.e.nt of the ball. Nearly half the company had been in time of yore his pupils, or were actually so at the very moment; so that, independent of his cares as conductor of the festivities, he had also the _amour propre_ of one who saw his own triumphs reflected in the success of his disciples.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 325]

At last the dances were arranged. A certain kind of order was established in the party; and Mr. Harkin, standing in the fifth position, with all his fingers expanded, gave three symbolic claps of his hand, and cried out, 'Begin!' Away went the band at once, and down the middle I flew with my partner, to the measure of a quick country-dance that no human legs could keep time to. Two others quickly followed, more succeeding them like wave after wave. Nothing was too fat, nothing too short, nothing too long, to dance. There they were, as ill-paired as though, instead of treading a merry measure, they had been linked in the very bonds of matrimony--old and young, the dwarf and the brobdingnag, the plump and the lean, each laughing at the eccentricities of his neighbour, and happily indifferent to the mirth he himself afforded. By-the-bye, what a glorious thing it would be if we could carry out this principle of self-esteem into all our reciprocity-treaties, and, while we enjoyed what we derive from others, be unconscious of the loss we sustained ourselves!

Unlike our English performance, the dance here was as free-and-easy a thing as needs be. Down the middle you went, holding, mayhap squeezing your partner's hand, laughing, joking, flirting, venturing occasionally on many a bolder flight than at other times you could have dared; for there was no time for the lady to be angry, as she tripped along to 'The Hare in the Corn'; and besides, but little wisdom could be expected from a man while performing more antics than Punch in a pantomime. With all this, there was a running fire of questions, replies, and recognitions, from every one you pa.s.sed--

'That's it, Captain: push along! begad, you're doing it well!'-- 'Don't forget to-morrow!'--'Hands round!'--'Hasn't she a leg of her own!'--'Keep it up!'--'This way I--turn, Miss Malone!'--'You'll come to breakfast!'--'How are ye, Joe?' etc.

Scarcely was the set concluded, when Miss Bellew was engaged by another partner; while I, at her suggestion, invited her cousin Mary to become mine. The ball-room was now crowded with people; the mirth and fun grew fast and furious. The country-dance occupied the whole length of the room; and round the walls were disposed tables for whist or loo, where the elders amused themselves with as much pleasure, and not less noise.

I fear that I gave my fair partner but a poor impression of an aide-de-camp's gallantry--answering at random, speaking vaguely and without coherence, my eyes fixed on Miss Bellew, delighted when by chance I could catch a look from her, and fretful and impatient when she smiled at some remark of her partner. In fact, love has as many stages as a fever; and I was in that acute period of the malady when the feeling of devotion, growing every moment stronger, is checkered by a doubt lest the object of your affections should really be indifferent to you--thus suggesting all the torturing agonies of jealousy to your distracted mind. At such times as these a man can scarcely be very agreeable even to the girl he loves; but he is a confounded bore to a chance acquaintance. So, indeed, did poor Mary Dillon seem to think; and as, at the conclusion of the dance, I resigned her hand to a lieutenant somebody, with pink cheeks, black eyebrows, and a most martial air, I saw she looked upon her escape as a direct mercy from Providence.

Just at this moment, Mr. Dillon, who had only been waiting for the propitious moment to pounce upon me, seized me by the arm, and led me down the room. There was a charming woman dying to know me in one corner; the best c.o.c.k-shooting in Ireland wished to make my acquaintance in another; thirty thousand pounds, and a nice little property in Leitrim, was sighing for me near the fire; and three old ladies, the _gros bonnets_ of the land, had kept the fourth place at the whist table vacant for _my_ sake, and were at length growing impatient at my absence.

_Non sunt mea verba_, good reader. Such was Mr. Dillon's representation to me, as he hurried me along, presenting me as he went to every one we met--a ceremony in which I soon learned to perform my part respectably, by merely repeating a formula I had adopted for my guidance: 'Delighted to know you, Mr. Burke!' or, 'Charmed to make your acquaintance, Mrs.

French!' for, as nine-tenths of the men were called by the one, and nearly all the ladies by the other appellation, I seldom blundered in my addresses.

The evening wore on, but the vigour of the party seemed unabated. The fatigues of fas.h.i.+onable life seemed to be as little known in Ireland as its apathy and its ennui Poor, benighted people! you appear to enjoy society, not as a refuge for your own weariness, not as an escape-valve for your own vapours, but really as a source of pleasurable emotions--an occasion for drawing closer the bonds of intimacy, for being agreeable to your friends, and for making yourselves happy. Alas! you have much to learn in this respect; you know not yet how preferable is the languid look of _blase_ beauty to the brilliant eye and glowing cheek of happy girlhood; you know not how superior is the cutting sarcasm, the whispered equivoque, to the kind welcome and the affectionate greeting; and while enjoying the pleasure of meeting your friends, you absolutely forget to be critical upon their characters or their costume!

What a pity it is that good-nature is underbred, and good-feeling is vulgarity; for, after all, while I contrasted the tone of everything around me with the supercilious cant and unimpa.s.sioned coldness of London manners, I could not but confess to myself that the difference was great and the interval enormous. To which side my own heart inclined, it needed not my affection for Louisa Bellew to tell me; yes, I had seen enough of life to learn how far are the real gifts of worth and excellence preferable to the advent.i.tious polish of high society.

While these thoughts rushed through my mind, another flashed across it.

What if my lady-mother were here! What if my proud cousin! How would her dark eyes brighten as some absurd or ludicrous feature of the company would suggest its _mot_ of malice or its speech of sarcasm! how would their air, their carriage, their deportment, appear in _her_ sight! I could picture to myself the cold scorn of her manner towards the men, the insulting courtesy of her demeanour to the women; the affected _navete_ with which she would question them as to their everyday habits, and habitudes, their usages and their wants, as though she were inquiring into the manners and customs of South Sea Islanders! I could imagine the ineffable scorn with which she would receive what were meant to be kind and polite attentions; and I could fas.h.i.+on to myself her look, her manner, and her voice when escaping, as she would call it, from her _Nuit parmi les sauvages_, she would caricature every trait, every feature of the party, converting into food for laughter their frank and hospitable bearing, and making their very warmth of heart the groundwork of a sarcasm.

The ball continued with unabated vigour, and as, in obedience to Miss Bellew's request, I could not again ask her to dance, I myself felt little inclination to seek for another partner. The practice of the place seemed, however, as imperatively to exclude idleness as the discipline of a man-of-war. If you were not dancing you ought to be playing cards, making love, drinking negus, or exchanging good stories with some motherly, fat, old lady, too heavy for a reel, too stupid for loo. In this dilemma I cut into a round game, which I remember often to have seen at Rooney's, technically called 'speculation.' A few minutes before, and I was fancying to myself what my mother would think of all this; and now, as I drew my chair to the table, I muttered a prayer to my own heart that she might never hear of my doings. How strange it is that we would much rather be detected in some overt act of vice than caught in any ludicrous situation or absurd position! I could look my friends and family steadily enough in the face while standing amid all the blacklegs of Epsom and the swindlers of Ascot, exchanging with them the courtesies of life, and talking on terms of easy and familiar intercourse; yet would I rather have been seen with the veriest pickpocket in fas.h.i.+onable life, than seated amid that respectable and irreproachable party who shook their sides with laughter around the card-table!

Truly, it was a merry game, and well suited for a novice, as it required no teaching. Each person had his three cards dealt him, one of which was displayed to the company in rotation. Did this happen to be a knave or some other equally reproachful character, the owner was mulcted to the sum of fivepence; and he must indeed have had a miser's heart who could regret a penalty so provocative of mirth. Often as the event took place, the fun never seemed to grow old; and from the exuberance of the delight, and the unceasing flow of the laughter, I began to wonder within myself if these same cards had not some secret and symbolic meaning unknown to the neophyte. But the drollery did not end here: you might sell your luck and put up your hand to auction. This led to innumerable droll allusions and dry jokes, and, in fact, if ever a game was contrived to make one's sides ache, this was it.

A few sedate and sober people there were, who, with bent brow and pursed-up lip, watched the whole proceeding. They were the secret police of the card-table; it was in vain to attempt to conceal your luckless knave from their prying eyes; with the glance of a tax-collector they pounced upon the defaulter, and made him pay. Barely or never smiling themselves, they really felt all the eagerness, all the excitement of gambling; and I question if, after all, their hard looks and stern features were not the best fun of the whole.

After about two hours had been thus occupied, during which I had won the esteem and affection of several elderly ladies by the equanimity and high-mindedness with which I bore up against the loss of two whole baskets of counters, amounting to the sum of four-and-sixpence, I felt my shoulder gently touched, and at the same moment Bob Mahon whispered in my ear--'The Dillons are going, and he wants to speak a word with you; so give me your cards, and slip away.'

Resigning my place to the Major, whose advent was received with evident signs of dissatisfaction, inasmuch as he was a shrewd player, I hurried through the room to find out Dillon.

'Ah, here he is!' said Miss Bellew to her uncle, while she pointed to me. 'How provoking to go away so early--isn't it, Mr. Hinton?'

'You, doubtless, feel it so,' said I, with something of pique in my manner; 'your evening has been so agreeably pa.s.sed.'

'And yours, too, if I am to judge from the laughter of your card-table.

I am sure I never heard so noisy a party. Well, Mary, does he consent?'

'No; papa is still obstinate, and the carriage is ordered. He says we shall have so much gaiety this week that we must go home early to-night.'

'There! there! now be good girls; get on your m.u.f.fling, and let us be off. Ah, Mr. Hinton!--the very man I wanted. Will you do us the very great favour of coming over for a few days to Mount Brown? We shall have the partridge-shooting after to-morrow, and I think I can show you some sport. May I send in for you in the morning? What hour will suit you?

You will not refuse me, I trust?'

'I need not say, my dear sir, how obliged I feel for and with what pleasure I should accept your kind invitation; but the truth is, I've come away without leave of absence. The duke may return any day, and I shall be in a sad sc.r.a.pe.'

'Do you think a few days----'

A look from Louisa Bellew, at this moment, came most powerfully in aid of her uncle's eloquence. I hesitated, and looked uncertain how to answer.

'There, girls! now is your time. He is half persuaded to do a kind thing; do try and convince him the whole way. Come, Mary! f.a.n.n.y!

Louisa!'

A second look from Miss Bellew decided the matter; and as a flush of pleasure coloured my cheek, I shook Dillon warmly by the hand, and promised to accept his invitation.

'That is like a really good fellow,' said the little man, with a face sparkling with pleasure. 'Now, what say you, if we drive over for you about two o'clock? The girls are coming in to make some purchases, and we shall all drive out together.'

This arrangement, so very palatable to me, was agreed upon, and I now took Miss Bellow's arm to lead her to the carriage. On descending to the hall a delay of a few minutes ensued, as the number of vehicles prevented the carriage coming up. The weather appeared to have changed; and it was now raining heavily, and blowing a perfect storm.

As the fitful gusts of wind howled along the dark corridors of the old building, das.h.i.+ng the rain upon our faces even where we stood, I drew my fair companion closer to my side, and held her cloak more firmly round her. What a moment was that! Her arm rested on mine; her very tresses were blown each moment across my cheek. I know not what I said, but I felt that in the tones of my voice they were the utterings of my heart that fell from my lips. I had not remembered that Mr. Dillon had already placed his daughters in the carriage, and was calling to us loudly to follow.