Duval rose very late this morning, and, at one o’clock, we had but just breakfasted, when Miss Branghton, her brother, Mr. Smith, and Monsieur Du Bois, called to enquire after our healths.
The civility in young Branghton, I much suspect, was merely the result of his father’s commands; but his sister and Mr. Smith, I soon found, had motives of their own. Scarce had they spoken to Madame Duval, when, advancing eagerly to me, “Pray, Ma’am,” said Mr. Smith, “who was that gentleman?”
“Pray, cousin,” cried Miss Branghton, “was not he the same gentleman you ran away with that night at the opera?”
“Goodness! that he was,” said young Branghton, “and, I declare, as soon as ever I saw him, I thought I knew his face.”
“I’m sure, I’ll defy you to forget him,” answered his sister, “if once you had seen him: he is the finest gentleman I ever saw in my life, don’t you think so, Mr. Smith?”
“Why, you won’t give the lady time to speak,” said Mr. Smith. —“Pray, Ma’am, what is the gentleman’s name?”
“Willoughby, Sir.”
“Willoughby! I think I have heard the name. Pray, Ma’am, is he married?”
“Lord, no, that he is not,” cried Miss Branghton; “he looks too smart by a great deal for a married man. Pray, cousin, how did you get acquainted with him?”
“Pray, Miss,” said young Branghton, in the same breath, “what’s his business?”
“Indeed I don’t know,” answered I.
“Something very genteel, I dare say,” added Miss Branghton, “because he dresses so fine.”
“It ought to be something that brings in a good income” said Mr. Smith; “for I’m sure that he did not get that suit of clothes he had on under thirty or forty pounds; for I know the price of clothes pretty well. — Pray, Ma’am, can you tell me what he has a-year?”
“Don’t talk no more about him,” cried Madame Duval, “for I don’t like to hear his name: I believe he’s one of the worst persons in the world; for though I never did him no manner of harm, nor so much as hurt a hair of his head, I know he was an accomplice with the fellow, Captain Mirvan, to take away my life.”
Everybody, but myself, now crowding around her for an explanation, a violent rapping at the street-door was unheard; and, without any previous notice, in the midst of her narration, Sir Clement Willoughby entered the room. They all started; and, with looks of guilty confusion, as if they feared his resentment for having listened to Madame Duval, they scrambled for chairs, and in a moment were all formally seated.
Sir Clement, after a general bow, singling out Madame Duval, said with his usual easiness, “I have done myself the honour of waiting on you, Madame, to enquire if you have any commands to Howard Grove, whither I am going tomorrow morning.”
Then, seeing the storm that gathered in her eyes, before he allowed her time to answer, he addressed himself to me; —“And if you, Madam, have any with which you will honour me, I shall be happy to execute them.”
“None at all, Sir.”
“None! — not to Miss Mirvan! — no message! no letter!”
“I wrote to Miss Mirvan yesterday by the post.”
“My application should have been earlier, had I sooner known your address.”
“Ma foi,” cried Madame Duval, recovering from her surprise, “I believe never nobody saw the like of this!”
“Of what, Madam?” cried the undaunted Sir Clement, turning quick towards her; “I hope no one has offended you!”
“You don’t hope no such a thing!” cried she, half choked with passion, and rising from her chair. This motion was followed by the rest; and in a moment, every body stood up.
Still Sir Clement was not abashed; affecting to make a bow of acknowledgment to the company in general, he said, “Pray — I beg — Ladies — Gentlemen — pray don’t let me disturb you, pray keep your seats.”
“Pray, Sir,” said Miss Branghton, moving a chair towards him, “won’t you sit down yourself?”
“You are extremely good, Ma’am:— rather than make any disturbance —”
And so saying, this strange man seated himself, as did, in an instant every body else, even Madame Duval herself, who, overpowered by his boldness, seemed too full for utterance.
He then, and with as much composure as if he had been an expected guest, began to discourse on the weather — its uncertainty — the heat of the public places in summer — the emptiness of the town — and other such common topics.
Nobody, however, answered him; Mr. Smith seemed afraid, young Branghton ashamed, M. Du Bois amazed, Madame Duval enraged, and myself determined not to interfere. All that he could obtain, was the notice of Miss Branghton, whose nods, smiles, and attention, had some appearance of entering into conversation with him.
At length, growing tired, I suppose, of engaging every body’s eyes, and nobody’s tongue, addressing himself to Madame Duval and to me, the said, “I regard myself as peculiarly unfortunate, Ladies, in having fixed upon a time for my visit to Howard Grove, when you are absent from it.”
“So I suppose, Sir, so I suppose,” cried Madame Duval, hastily rising, and the next moment as hastily seating herself; —“you’ll be wanting of somebody to make your game of, and so you may think to get me there again; — but, I promise you, Sir, you won’t find it so easy a matter to make me a fool; and besides that,” raising her voice, “I’ve found you out, I assure you; so if ever you go to play your tricks upon me again, I’ll make no more ado, but go directly to a justice of peace; so, Sir, if you can’t think of nothing but making people ride about the country at all hours of the night, just for your diversion, why, you’ll find I know some justices as well as Justice Tyrrell.”
Sir Clement was evidently embarrassed at this attack; yet he affected a look of surprise, and protested he did not understand her meaning.
“Well,” cried she, “if I don’t wonder where people can get such impudence! if you’ll say that, you’ll say anything: however, if you swear till you’re black in the face, I sha’n’t believe you; for nobody sha’n’t persuade me out of my senses, that I’m resolved.”
“Doubtless not, Madam,” answered he with some hesitation; “and I hope you do not suspect I ever had such an intention; my respect for you —”
“O, Sir, you’re vastly polite all of a sudden! but I know what it’s all for! it’s only for what you can get! — You could treat me like nobody at Howard Grove; but now you see I’ve a house of my own, you’re mind to wheedle yourself into it; but I sees your design, so you needn’t trouble yourself to take no more trouble about that, for you shall never get nothing at my house — not so much as a dish of tea:— so now, Sir, you see I can play you trick for trick.”
There was something so extremely gross in this speech, that it even disconcerted Sir Clement, who
