Randall Parrish - "Keith of the Border"

Jules Renard - "Poil de Carotte"

F.V.N. Painter - "Poets of the South"

Mark Akenside - "Poetical Works of Akenside"

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Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales and Novels, Vol. VII




"He is more than half in love with my Georgiana already," said the mother,
"if I have any eyes."

"You have eyes, and very fine eyes, my dear, as every body knows, and no
one better than myself--they have but one defect."

"Defect!"

"They sometimes see more than exists."

"You would not be so incredulous, Mr. Falconer, if you had seen the rapture
with which the count listens to Georgiana when she plays on the harp. He is
prodigiously fond of music."

"And of painting too," said the commissioner; "for, by your account of the
matter, he seemed to have been more than half in love also with a picture
this morning."

"A picture is no very dangerous rival, except in a _modern novel_," replied
Mrs. Falconer. "But beware, commissioner--and remember, I understand these
things--I warn you in time--beware of the original of that picture, and
never again talk to me of going to see those Percys; for though the girl
may be only an unfashioned country beauty, and Georgiana has so many
polished advantages, yet there is no knowing what whim a young man might
take into his head."

The commissioner, though he remained completely of his own opinion, that
Mrs. Falconer's scheme for Georgiana would never do, disputed the point no
farther, but left the room, promising all she required, for promises cost
him nothing. To do him justice, he recollected and endeavoured to the
best of his power to keep his word; for the next morning he took his
time so well to propose a ride to the Hills, just at the moment when
Lord Oldborough and the count were deep in a conversation on the state
of continental politics, that his lordship would not part with him. The
commissioner paid his visit alone, and Mrs. Falconer gave him credit for
his address; but scarcely had she congratulated herself, when she was
thrown again into terror--the commissioner had suggested to Lord Oldborough
the propriety and policy of giving, whilst he was in the country, a
_popularity ball_! His lordship assented, and Mrs. Falconer, as usual, was
to take the trouble off his hands, and to give an entertainment, to his
lordship's friends. Lord Oldborough had not yet recovered from the gout,
and he was glad to accept of her offer: his lordship not being able to
appear, or to do the honours of the fete, was a sufficient apology for his
not giving it at Clermont-park.

The obsequious commissioner begged to have a list of any friends whom Lord
Oldborough particularly wished to have invited; but his lordship, with a
look of absence, replied, that he left all that entirely to Mrs. Falconer;
however, the very evening of the day on which the commissioner paid his
visit alone at the Hills, Lord Oldborough put into his hands a list of the
friends whom he wished should be invited to the ball, and at the head of
his list were the Percys.

"The Percys! the very people I first thought of!" said Mr. Falconer,
commanding his countenance carefully: "but I fear we cannot hope to have
them, they are at such a distance, and they have no carriage."

"Any of my carriages, all of them, shall be at their command," said Lord
Oldborough.

The commissioner reported this to Mrs. Falconer, observing that he had gone
to the very brink of offending Lord Oldborough to oblige her, as he knew by
his lordship's look and tone of voice; and that nothing now could be done,
but to visit the Percys, and as soon as possible, and to send them a card
of invitation for the ball.

"And, my dear, whatever you do, I am sure will be done with a good grace,"
added the commissioner, observing that his lady looked excessively
discomfited.

"Very well, commissioner; you will have your daughter upon your hands,
that's all."

"I should be as sorry for that, my love, as you could be; but what can be
done? we must not lose the substance in running after the shadow. Lord
Oldborough might turn short round upon us."

"Not the least likely upon such a trifling occasion as this, where no
politics are in question. What can Mrs. or Miss Percy's being or not being
at this ball signify to Lord Oldborough?--a man who never in his life
thought of balls or cared any thing about women, and these are women whom
he has never seen. What interest can it possibly be of Lord Oldborough's?"

"I cannot tell you, my dear--I don't see any immediate interest. But
there's an old private friendship in the case. Some way or other, I declare
I cannot tell you how, that old cousin Percy of mine has contrived to get
nearer to Lord Oldborough than any one living ever could do--nearer to his
heart."

"Heart!--Private friendship!" repeated Mrs. Falconer, with a tone of
ineffable contempt. "Well, I only wish you had said nothing about the
matter to Lord Oldborough; I could have managed it myself. Was there ever
such want of address! When you saw the Percys at the head of the list, was
that a time to say any thing about your fears of their not coming? Do you
think Lord Oldborough could not translate fears into hopes? Then to mention
their having no carriages!--when, if you had kept your own counsel, that
would have been our sufficient excuse at last. They must have refused:
nothing need have been said about it till the night of the ball; and I
would lay my life, Lord Oldborough would never, in the mean time, have
thought of it, or of them. But so silly! to object in that way, when you
know that the slightest contradiction wakens Lord Oldborough's will, and
then indeed you might as well talk to his own Jupiter Tonans. If his
lordship had set a beggar-woman's name at the head of his list, and you had
objected that she had no carriage, he would directly have answered 'She
shall have mine.' Bless me! It's wonderful that people can pique themselves
on address, and have so little knowledge of character."

"My dear," said the commissioner, "if you reproach me from this time till
to-morrow, the end of the matter will be, that you must go and see the
Percys. I say, Mrs. Falconer," added he, assuming a peremptory tone, for
which he had acquired a taste from Lord Oldborough, but had seldom courage
or opportunity to indulge in it, "I say, Mrs. Falconer, the thing must be
done." He rang the bell in a gloriously authoritative manner, and ordered
the carriage.

A visit paid thus upon compulsion was not likely to be very agreeable; but
the complaints against the roads, the dreadful distance, and the horrid
necessity of being civil, need not be recorded. Miss Falconers exclaimed
when they at last came to the Hills, "La! I did not think it was so
tolerable a place!" Miss Georgiana hoped that they should, at least, see
Miss Caroline--she owned she was curious to see that beautiful original,
of whom the painter at Percy Hall, and her brother Buckhurst, had said so
much.

Mrs. Percy and Rosamond only were at home. Caroline had taken a walk with
her father to a considerable distance.

Mrs. Falconer, who had, by this time, completely recovered her
self-command, presented herself with such smiling grace, and expressed, in
such a tone of cordiality, her earnest desire, now that she had been so
happy as to get into the country, to enjoy the society of her friends and
relations, that Rosamond was quite charmed into a belief of at least half
of what she said. Rosamond was willing to attribute all that had appeared,
particularly of late, in contradiction of this lady's present professions,
to some political motives of Commissioner Falconer, whom she disliked for
his conduct to Buckhurst, and whom she was completely willing to give up as
a worldly-minded courtier. But whilst the manners of the mother operated
thus with Rosamond in favour of her moral character, even Rosamond's easy
faith and sanguine benevolence could not see or hear any thing from the
daughters that confirmed Mrs. Falconer's flattering speeches; they sat in
languid silence, looking upon the animate and inanimate objects in the room
with the same air of supercilious listlessness. They could not speak so as
to be heard, they could not really understand any thing that Rosamond said
to them; they seemed as if their bodies had been brought into the room by
mistake, and their souls left behind them: not that they were in the least
timid or abashed; no, they seemed fully satisfied with their own inanity,
and proud to show that they had absolutely no ideas in common with those
into whose company they had been thus unfortunately compelled. Once or
twice they turned their heads with some signs of vivacity, when the door
opened, and when they expected to see Miss Caroline Percy enter: but though
the visit was protracted, in hopes of her return, yet at last they were
obliged to depart without having their curiosity satisfied.

Mrs. Falconer's fears of rivalship for her Georgiana were not diminished
by this visit. By those of the family whom she saw this day, she judged of
Caroline, whom she had not seen; and she had tact sufficient to apprehend,
that the conversation and manners of Mrs. Percy and of Rosamond were such
as might, perhaps, please a well-bred and well-informed foreigner better,
even, than the fashionable tone and air of the day, of which he had not
been long enough in England to appreciate the conventional value. Still
Mrs. Falconer had a lingering hope that some difficulties about dress, or
some happy cold, might prevent these dangerous Percys from accepting the
invitation to the ball. When their answers to her card came, she gave one
hasty glance at it.

"Will do themselves the honour."

"My dear, you are alarming yourself unnecessarily," cried the commissioner,
who pitied the distress visible, at least to his eyes, in her countenance;
or who feared, perhaps, a renewal of reproaches for his own want of
address, "quite unnecessarily, believe me. I have had a great deal of
conversation with Count Altenberg since I spoke of him to you last, and I
am confirmed in my opinion that he merely feels the curiosity natural to an
enlightened traveller to become acquainted with Mr. Percy, a man who has
been described to him as a person of abilities. And he wants to thank him
in the name of his countrymen, who were assisted, you know I told you, by
the Percys, at the time of the shipwreck. You will see, my dear, that the
ladies of the family will be nothing to him."

Mrs. Falconer sighed, and bit her lips.

"In half an hour's conversation, I would engage to find out the ruling
passion of any man, young or old. Now, remember I tell you, Mrs. Falconer,
Count Altenberg's ruling passion is ambition."

"Ruling passion!" repeated Mrs. Falconer; "one of your book-words,
and book-notions, that are always misleading you in practice. Ruling
passion!--Metaphysical nonsense! As if men were such consistent creatures
as to be ruled regularly by one passion--when often ten different passions
pull a man, even before your face, ten different ways, and one cannot tell
one hour what will be the ruling passion of the next. Tell me the reigning
fashion, and I will tell you the ruling passion!--Luckily," continued
Mrs. Falconer, after a pause of deep consideration, "Georgiana is very
fashionable--one of the most fashionable young women in England, as the
count might have seen when he was in London. But then, on the other hand,
whether he is judge enough of English manners--Georgiana must be well
dressed--and I know the Count's taste in dress; I have made myself mistress
of that--commissioner, I must trouble you for some money."

"Mrs. Falconer, I have no money; and if I had," said the commissioner,
who always lost his temper when that subject was touched upon, "if I
had, I would not give it to you to throw away upon such a losing game--a
nonsensical speculation! Georgiana has not the least chance, nor has any
other English woman, were she as handsome as Venus and dressed in bank
notes--why, Mrs. Falconer, since you put me in a passion, I must tell you a
secret."

But checking himself, Mr. Falconer stood for a moment silent, and went on
with "Count Altenberg has made up his quarrel with the hereditary prince,
and I have it from undoubted authority, that he is to be the prince's prime
minister when he comes to the throne; and the present prince, you know, as
Cunningham says, is so infirm and asthmatic, that he may be carried off at
any moment."

"Very well--very likely--I am glad of it," said Mrs. Falconer: "but where's
the secret?"

"I've thought better of that, and I cannot tell it to you. But this much I
tell you positively, Mrs. Falconer, that you will lose your labour, if you
speculate upon the Count for Georgiana."

"Is he married? Answer me that question, and I will ask no more--and that I
have a right to ask."

"No--not married; but I can tell no more. Only let me beg that you will
just put all love notions out of Georgiana's head and your own, or you'll
make the girl ridiculous, and expose yourself, my dear. But, on the other
hand, let there be no deficiency of attention to the count, for all our
civilities to him will pay a hundred fold, and, perhaps, sooner than you
expect--for he may be prime minister and prime favourite at Cunningham's
court in a month, and of course will have it in his power to forward
Cunningham's interests. That is what I look to, Mrs. Falconer; for I am
long-sighted in my views, as you will find."

"Well, time will show. I am glad you tell me he positively is not married,"
concluded Mrs. Falconer: "as to the rest, we shall see."




CHAPTER XXVI.


The evening appointed for Mrs. Falconer's ball at length arrived; and all
the neighbouring gentry assembled at Falconer-court. They were received
by Mrs. Falconer in a splendid saloon, newly furnished for this occasion,
which displayed in its decorations the utmost perfection of modern taste
and magnificence.

Mrs. Falconer was fitted, both by art and nature, to adorn a ball-room,
and conduct a ball. With that ease of manner which a perfect knowledge of
the world and long practice alone can give, she floated round the circle,
conscious that she was in her element. Her eye, with one glance, seemed to
pervade the whole assembly; her ear divided itself amongst a multitude of
voices; and her attention diffused itself over all with equal grace. Yet
that attention, universal as it seemed, was nicely discriminative. Mistress
of the art of pleasing, and perfectly acquainted with all the shades of
politeness, she knew how to dispose them so as to conceal their boundaries,
and even their gradation, from all but the most skilful observers. They
might, indeed, have formed, from Mrs. Falconer's reception of each of her
guests, an exact estimate of their rank, fashion, and consequence in the
world; for by these standards she regulated her opinion, and measured her
regard. Every one present knew this to be her theory, and observed it to be
her practice towards others; but each flattered themselves by turns that
they discovered in her manner a personal exception in their own favour.
In the turn of her countenance, the tone of her voice, her smile or her
anxiety, in her distant respect or her affectionate familiarity, some
distinction was discerned peculiar to each individual.

The Miss Falconers, stationary at one end of the room, seemed to have
adopted manners diametrically opposite to those of their mother: attraction
being the principle of the mother, repulsion of the daughters. Encircled
amongst a party of young female friends, Miss Falconers, with high-bred
airs, confined to their own _coterie_ their exclusive attention.

They left to their mother the responsibility and all the labour of _doing
the honours_ of her own house, whilst they enjoyed the glory of being
remarked and _wondered at_ by half the company; a circumstance which, far
from embarrassing, seemed obviously to increase their gaiety.

The ball could not begin till the band of a regiment, quartered in the
neighbourhood, arrived. Whilst they were waiting for the music, the Miss
Falconers and their party stationed themselves directly opposite to the
entrance of the saloon, so as to have a full view of the antechamber
through which the company were to pass--no one passed uncensured by this
confederacy. The first coup-d'oeil decided the fate of all who appeared,
and each of the fair judges vied with the others in the severity of the
sentence pronounced on the unfortunate persons who thus came before their
merciless tribunal.

"But I am astonished the Percys do not make their appearance," cried Miss
Georgiana Falconer.

"Has Sir Robert Percy any one with him?" asked one of the young ladies.

"I am not speaking of Sir Robert Percy," replied Miss Georgiana, "but
of the other branch, the fallen branch of the Percys--our relations
too--but we know nothing of them--only mamma was obliged to ask them for
to-night--And, Bell, only conceive how horribly provoking! because they
come, we sha'n't have Sir Robert Percy--just sent to excuse himself."

"Abominable! Now, really!--And for people quite out of the world, that
nobody ever heard of, except Lord Oldborough, who, ages ago, had some
political connexion, I think they say, with the father," said Miss
Arabella.

"No, they met abroad, or something of that sort," replied Miss Georgiana.

"Was that it? Very likely--I know nothing about them: I only wish they
had stayed at home, where they are so fond of staying, I hear. You know,
Georgiana, Buckhurst told us, that when they had something to live upon
they never lived like other people, but always were buried alive in the
country; and Lady Jane Granville, with her own lips, told me, that,
even since they lost their fortune, she had asked one of these girls to
town with her and to Tunbridge--Now only conceive how kind! and what an
advantage that would have been--And, can you believe it? Mr. Percy was
so unaccountable, and they all so odd, that they refused--Lady Jane, of
course, will never ask them again. But now, must not they be the silliest
creatures in the universe?"

"Silly! Oh! dear, no: there you are wrong, Bell; for you know they are all
so wise, and so learned, so blue, such a deep blue, and all that sort of
thing, that, for my part, I shall never dare to open my lips before them."

"Fortunately," said one of the young ladies, "you have not much to fear
from their learning at a ball; and as dancers I don't apprehend you have
much to dread from any of them, even from _the beauty_."

"Why, scarcely," said Miss Georgiana; "I own I shall be curious to see how
they will _get on--'comment ces savantes se tireront d'affaire_.' I wonder
they are not here. Keep your eye on the door, dear Lady Frances--I would
not miss their entree for millions."

In vain eyes and glasses were fixed in expectation of the arrival of these
devoted objects of ridicule--another, and another, and another came, but
not the Percys.

The band was now ready, and began to play--Count Altenberg entered the
room. Quick as grace can venture to move, Mrs. Falconer glided to receive
him. Miss Georgiana Falconer, at the same moment, composed her features
into their most becoming position, and gave herself a fine air of the head.
The Count bowed to her--she fanned herself, and her eye involuntarily
glanced, first at a brilliant star he wore, and then at her mother,
whilst, with no small degree of anxiety, she prepared to play off, on this
decisive evening, all her artillery, to complete her conquest--to complete
her victory, for she flattered herself that only the finishing blow was
wanting. In this belief her female companions contributed to confirm her,
though probably they were all the time laughing at her vanity.

Mrs. Falconer requested Count Altenberg to open the ball with Lady Frances
Arlington. After having obeyed her orders, he next led out Miss Georgiana
Falconer, evidently to her satisfaction; the more so, as she was conscious
of being, at that moment, the envy of at least half the company.

Count Altenberg, quite unconscious of being himself the object of any
attention, seemed to think only of showing his partner to advantage; if he
danced well, it appeared to be only because he habitually moved with ease
and dignity, and that whatever he did he looked like a gentleman. His fair
partner danced admirably, and now surpassed herself.

It was repeated to Mrs. Falconer, that Colonel Bremen, the Count's friend,
had told some one that the Count had declared he had never seen any
thing equal to Miss Georgiana Falconer, except at the opera at Paris. At
this triumphant moment Miss Georgiana could have seen, with security and
complacency, the arrival of Miss Caroline Percy. The more prudent mother,
however, was well satisfied with her absence. Every thing conspired to Mrs.
Falconer's satisfaction. The ball was far advanced, and no Percys appeared.
Mrs. Falconer wondered, and deplored, and at length it came near the hour
when supper was ordered--the commissioner inquired whether Mrs. Falconer
was certain that she had named the right day on the card?

"Oh! certain--But it is now so late, I am clear they will not be here
to-night."

"Very extraordinary, to keep Lord Oldborough's carriage and servants!" said
the commissioner: "they went in time, I am sure, for I saw them set out."

"All I know is, that we have done every thing that is proper," said Mrs.
Falconer, "and Lord Oldborough cannot blame us--as to the Count, he seems
quite _content_."

Mrs. Falconer's accent seemed to imply something more than _content_; but
this was not a proper time or place to contest the point. The husband
passed on, saying to himself "Absurd!" The wife went on, saying
"Obstinate!"

Count Altenberg had led his partner to a seat, and as soon as he quitted
her, the young ladies of her party all flattered her, in congratulatory
whispers: one observed that there was certainly something very particular
in Count Altenberg's manner, when he first spoke to Miss Georgiana
Falconer; another remarked that he always spoke to Miss Georgiana Falconer
with emotion and embarrassment; a third declared that her eye was fixed
upon the Count, and she saw him several times change colour--all, in short,
agreed that the Count's heart was Miss Georgiana Falconer's devoted prize.
She the while, with well-affected incredulity and secret complacency, half
repressed and half encouraged these remarks by frequent exclamations of
"La! how can you think so!--Why will you say such things!--Dear! how can
you be so tormenting--so silly, now, to have such fancies!--But did he
really change colour?"--In love with her! She wondered how such an idea
could ever come into their heads--she should, for her part, never have
dreamed of such a thing--indeed, she was positive they were mistaken. Count
Altenberg in love with her!--Oh, no, there could be nothing in it.

Whilst she spoke, her eyes followed the Count, who, quite unconscious
of his danger, undisturbed by any idea of Miss Georgiana Falconer and
love, two ideas which probably never had entered his mind together, was
carelessly walking down the room, his thoughts apparently occupied with
the passing scene. He had so much the habit of observing men and manners,
without appearing to observe them, that, under an air of gaiety, he carried
his understanding, as it were, incognito. His observation glanced on all
the company as he passed. Miss Georgiana Falconer lost sight of him as he
reached the end of the saloon; he disappeared in the antechamber.

Soon afterwards a report reached her that the Percy family were arrived;
that Count Altenberg had been particularly struck by the sight of one of
the Miss Percys, and had been overheard to whisper to his friend Colonel
Bremen, "Very like the picture! but still more _mind_ in the countenance!"

At hearing this, Miss Georgiana Falconer grew first red and then turned
pale; Mrs. Falconer, though scarcely less confounded, never changed a
muscle of her face, but leaving every body to choose their various comments
upon the Count's words, and simply saying, "Are the Percys come at last?"
she won her easy way through the crowd, whispering to young Petcalf as
she passed, "Now is your time, Petcalf, my good creature--Georgiana is
disengaged."

Before Mrs. Falconer got to the antechamber, another report met her, "that
the Percys had been overturned, and had been terribly hurt."

"Overturned!--terribly hurt!--Good Heavens!" cried Mrs. Falconer, as she
entered the antechamber. But the next person told her they were not in the
least hurt--still pressing forward, she exclaimed, "Mrs. Percy! Where is
Mrs. Percy? My dear madam! what has happened? Come the wrong road, did
you?--broken bridge--And were you really overturned?"

"No, no, only obliged to get out and walk a little way."

"Oh! I am sorry--But I am so glad to see you all safe!--When it grew late,
I grew so uneasy!" Then turning towards Caroline, "Miss Caroline Percy, I
am sure, though I had never, till now, the pleasure of seeing her."

An introduction of Caroline by Mrs. Percy, in due form, took place. Mrs.
Falconer next recognized Mr. Percy, declared he did not look a day older
than when she had seen him fifteen years before--then recurring to the
ladies, "But, my dear Mrs. Percy, are you sure that your shoes are not
wet through?--Oh! my dear madam, Miss Percy's are terribly wet! and Miss
Caroline's!--Positively, the young ladies must go to my dressing-room--the
shoes must be dried." Mrs. Falconer said that perhaps her daughters could
accommodate the Miss Percys with others.

John Crace digests High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
Review: The Thin Blue Line: How Humanitarianism Went to War by Conor FoleyAid worker Foley conducts a fascinating and important analysis of recent wars and disasters around the world, says Steven Poole

Review: Under Two Dictators: Prisoner of Stalin and Hitler by Margarete Buber-Neumann

He might be almost 90 years old in real terms, but Christopher Robin and his bear of very little brain are set to make a literary comeback after the estate of AA Milne agreed to authorise the first-ever official sequel to the much-loved children's books.

Return to the Hundred Acre Wood by author David Benedictus picks up from the poignant ending of Milne's last Pooh book, The House at Pooh Corner, in which Christopher Robin is growing up and heading away to school. "Pooh, promise you won't forget about me, ever. Not even when I'm a hundred," he tells the bear, and they leave together.

The estates of Milne and EH Shepard, who provided the simple but enduring illustrations for the books, said they had been searching for a sequel that would do justice to the original stories for "a good many years".

Although Disney has franchised the characters in a number of films, there has not previously been an authorised literary sequel to Milne's books, Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, first published in 1926 and 1928. Milne wrote the books for his son Christopher Robin, naming Pooh after his teddy bear.

The sequel, to be published by Egmont Publishing in Britain and Penguin imprint Dutton Children's Books in the US, is due out on 5 October, illustrated by Mark Burgess. Benedictus, who is familiar with the world of Winnie the Pooh after adapting and producing audio versions of the books starring Judi Dench, Stephen Fry and Jane Horrocks, did not reveal any more details, but promised that the book would both "complement and maintain Milne's idea that whatever happens, a little boy and his bear will always be playing".

Michael Brown, chairman of Pooh Properties, which manages the affairs of the Milne and Shepard estates, said the sequel would capture "the spirit and quality" of the original books.

Benedictus said all Milne's well-loved characters, from Tigger to Eeyore, would be making an appearance in his sequel, which features 10 stories and around 150 illustrations. The stories retain their original 1920s setting.

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Review: The Error World: An Affair with Stamps by Simon Garfield

One might say that Margarete Buber-Neumann had a charmed life, had it not been so horrible. She was fortunate - if that is the word - to be sent to a Soviet labour camp in 1939, during a momentary lull in the mass shooting of prisoners. Handed over to the Nazis in 1940, she was similarly lucky to be released from an SS concentration camp in 1945, just days before the remaining prisoners were forced on evacuation marches ending in death. It is a measure of the dismal times she lived through that such events marked her as fortunate, and it is a testament to her skill as a writer that this thoughtful, humane memoir (published in English in 1949) became an international bestseller. From the very first page we are with her, scurrying through Moscow surrounded by images of Stalin. We accompany her throughout the gruelling years ahead, encountering a host of characters, good and bad, and share in her dogged attempt to make sense of the madness of totalitarianism. This revised text is the definitive edition.

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