Canvassing

Chapter I

Lord Glenville and Lord .Warringdon were lounging together over a fashionable late breakfast.

" Recollect, Warringdon, you are to be with Cropper and Baines by four this morning, to hear about that girl."

" Time enough," replied Lord Warringdon, carelessly.

"__You'll let her slip through your fingers, as you are going on ; I see that very plainly."

" Probably," rejoined the son : " luckily, she is not the only heiress to be found in the city. Besides, to confess the truth, I am in no hurry to run my neck into the noose, if I can help it."

"7/"," replied the father, significantly.

"I think that the heir to a hundred thousand a year, well paid, and but slightly encumbered, tnight help it," retorted the son.

"/think," observed the father, " that five thousand a year is a tolerably fair allowance for presents to opera people, and douceurs to ladies' maids."

" Not when ninety-five thousand is not found too much for the same purpose," retorted the son with a sneer. "

" Oh ! as for that, Warringdon," replied Lord Glenville, affecting not to hear the foregoing remark; '^' you cannot have money in every way: you quite forget that your two last contested elections cost me fifty thousand pounds, besides having had to pay back all the money you won on that cursed Twickenham party ; and then, the rascally newspapers ; recollect all it cost me to make them hold their tongues. 1 assure you, I had to pave your way out of that business with bank-bills. I often told you that one should never undertake a thing of the kind, unless one had nerve to go through with it. Better never win, unless you make up your mind to fight the man, if he objects to the fairness of the transaction. Don't you see, Warringdon ?"

" For heaven's sake, spare me that irksome subject ; we have already gone over the ground so often, that I know, by heart, all you would say. I have before assured you, that I shall never attempt recruiting ray finances again in that way. With respect to the obligation you would fix on me, for arranging the affair, you must pardon my not seeing the business in the same li^ht ; had you honoured my draughts, I should not have been driven to such extremities." And so saying, his lordship pushed his cup from him, and threw back his°handsome head with an air of languid haughtiness.

His father glanced at him a moment, without speaking, and then, smiling coldly, observed, '" Raison de plus, my good fellow, for looking after the heiress."

Their tete a tete was interrupted by the entrance of a footman with the morning papers, and a packet of notes and letters. A silence of some minutes ensued, which was broken by Lord Glenville.

'* Who is that letter from, Warringdon ]"

" Which ; this ?" answered his son ; pointing to one he had just carelessly thrown aside, of which the delicate hue, exquisite odour, and lightly-traced and undefined characters, breathed womanly grace and frivolity, — " Oh, aye ; this is from the prettiest woman in London. I am not going to make you my confessor, though.

" No," said Lord Glenville ; " the other letter."

" That? Oh, that's from the next prettiest woman in London. I did think her the prettiest dajis le bon vieux temps, a fortnight ago."

" No, no ;" said his father impatiently ; " the letter you have there in your hand."

" Here it is for you," answered Lord Warringdon, tossing it towards his father; "I have not read it myself, yet; but it will keep cool, I dare say."

^ '* Ah, very good ;" observed Lord Glenville, as he cast his eye over the epistle ; " I wonder you did not tell me of this before, my dear Warringdon."

" How the deuce could I, when I had not read it ? What's it all about ]"

" It is from Wilmot."

"Who the devil is he?" inquired Lord Warringdon.

" Wilmot ! Why, don't you recollect, you wrote to canvass him, the other day? Wilmot, of Castle Wilmot, in the halfunreclaimed Irish county of ; the husband of Lady

Anne, Lord Rochford's daughter; — you recollect, don't you ]"

" Oh, aye ; 1 remember, now ; what does he say T"

" I may as well read it for you," answered the father.

" Ah, no, tell it for me : 1 hate the reading, or hearing read, a stupid letter on business," replied the son.

" Well, he says that he will be most happy to give you his interest; he has I do not know how many thousand votes at your disposal ; and is very glad that you look to a county in which your family have so large a stake, and so forth ; and concludes by begging you to make his house your head-quarters : — very civil, is it not?"

♦* Yes," replied his son, yawning; "very great bore, though, to have to go there, — drink whisky-punch, and have my ears torn to pieces by their infernal brogue."

«' Very true," remarked Lord Glenville; " you cannot, however, have the people's votes without taking a little trouble about them."

" If you would l^t me sit for one of your boroughs, though, I should be spared all this annoyance. Do you know, 1 have half a mind to pitch Wilmot, of Castle Wilmot, and his cursed county, to the devil V

" Do so, if you like, my good fellow ; but how long do you expect to be out of the King's Bench after you have performed that feat ? As for the boroughs, I have already told you that I have sold them, for this time ; I wanted money, — so there's an end of them till next parliament. You will walk over the

course, in Wilmot says; what more do you want than to

be in parliamenf? but it is your affair, not mine. I wish, my dear Warringdon, you would condescend to listen to me, and play with your brute some other time."

Lord Warringdon had been, in fact, amusing himself watching his superb St. Bernard's dog, tearing one of the billets, received that morning, into as many pieces as his noble master had done the feelings of its fair writer. " Ha, Monk, you rascal, you have been worrying the wrong letter; what a teaze! I did not half read it, either : so I don't know now, whether it is to-day, or to-morrow, that he takes himself off to his fair Terpsichore; leaving his belia Tradita to be cheered by his Jido Amico. Capital, is it not, Monk, my boy? but if I should go the wrong day : what the devil then ? Why, it will be your 1 * fault, not mine; and that's sonoe comfort, as times g-o. Jesting apart, hiowever, it is a nuisance ; I thought the fellow was tearing- only my love's letter, and it turns out to be ray last love's; a great bore, is it not]" asked this son of the nineteenth century, of his father.

" ^^' arringdon, the subject upon which I am speakinor to you is really a very serious one ; and rny advice, if you would please to attend to it, might be of some importance to you."

The modern father did not think, it appears, that a love affair with a married woman was an event requiring his paternal interference, " But I cannot talk with you while you look so listless ; do sit down, I beg of you, and favour me with a few moment's notice."

Lord Warringdon threw himself into a Bergere, and his father proceeded. — " A canvass among these hot-headed Irish needs some care, I assure you ; j'^ou must lay aside your apathy, your exclusiveness, your indifference, whether you offend or not, and for once in your life you must try to please.

" Must I ]" — exclaimed his son, stretching out his finelyturned leg, and examining it wuth complacency.

The father did not notice the interruption and continued. — " Wilmot has the first interest in his county, and has represented it before now ; but he is at present under embarrassments, I hear ; — a sad fellow, for getting through money, as all his compatriotes are; — over head and ears in debt, and obliged to play hide-and-seek occasionally with his creditors, but in Ireland, that's nothing, you know, — then his wife." —

" Have mercy on me," interrupted Lord Warringdon, " are you going to give me the man's pedigree and private history, as if I wanted to write his life."

" She has the name of being a great match-maker," continued Lord Glenville ; " and when she was here some years ago, was very busy m" —

" What the deuce is all that to me?" asked Lord Warringdon.

" It is a great deal to you ; — she has daughters."

" She might have a hundred, for anything I care ;" observed the young Yiscount, again yawning.

" One of them is very handsome," continued Lord Glenville, "and clever ; now I would caution you."

"Against falling in love with her, is it?" interrupted the son, with a languid laugh. " No fear of that, I promise you — I hate clever women, you know, and make it a rule never to fall in love with any beauties but married ones."

" I know ; but take care, on the other hand, how you assume a prickly air, towards them ; for that would not do either — you must admire the daughter's charms, or you will lose the father's votes."

" Never fear ; — once in for the thing, I will go through it properly — I will be dazzled with their brilliancy; captivated with their accomplishments; — and driven mad by their beauty. — Oh, these cursed accomplished beauties ! — the brogue, and bad roads, are nothing in comparison. French, Italian and music, conchology, phrenology, and mineralogy; — with a dash of algebra, and animal magnetism, concluding with an interlude of astronomy and mathematics. There's a bill of fare, enough to strike terror into any heart but that of an Electioneerer," and so saying, he arose, called his dog, hummed a Mazurka, and sauntered out of the room.

A few days afterwards he was in his travelling chariot, rolling off to Holyhead ; we cannot better employ our time while he is on the road than by giving some idea of the family who are about to be honoured by his presence.

CHAPTER H.

Mr. Wilmot, of Castle Wilmot, was what is termed in Ireland, a capital fellow ; — good natured, careless, and extravagant. The owner of an estate, like most old Irish ones, a little the worse for the wear, and living away, like most such proprietors, as if the said estate was spick and span new ; — in a word, just the man to be loved and robbed by an Irish tenantry and household. He had been residing abroad for some years and had just returned home to " retrench" as he says, now that he is first introduced to the reader. But alas ! the claret, champagne and Burgundy, continue to be poured forth as liberally as if he were still in the land of the vines. There was a second table in his establishment, as expensive as the first ; nay, a third and a fourth, which, though less delicate in the quality of their aliments, made up the diflference in the quantity consumed. An ox a week, and three sheep a day, was the minimum of provision disposed of in the kitchen, and servants'-hall ; and all other things were on the same " grandee" scale of expenditure. His house was always thronged with guests ; high and low, rich and poor; all had ^'•cead millefaUha''' at Castle Wilmot. The consequences of such a system may be easily guessed. Lady Anne, unable to stop her husband's wild profusion, at last contented herself with turning it to some purpose, and as he would have his house filled with company, she took care there should be a fair proportion of marrying men, at a certain 'ratio of fortune. By these means, she had already got three daughters off her hands ; and she blessed her stars, and so did all who knew her, that she had but two remaining; for Lady Anne's reputation as a match-maker, had rendered her the terror of mothers who had sons, and the envy of those who had daughters.

No expense had been spared on the education of the Miss Wilrnot's. Mr. Wilmot's residence, whether in London or on the Continent, had, from their infancy, been besieged by Masters and Mistresses ; by teachers of music and teachers of languages. They had learned to dance from Coulon ; to sing from Liverati ; they spoke French like the hahltuees of the Fauxbourg St. Germain ; Italian like Romans. Maria, the eldest of the two remaining girls, being plain, was more especially exhorted by her mother to study "the accomplishments." And Maria had sense enough to follow the advice. She did study " the accomplishments" most assiduously, and successfully. But though she spoke all manner of tongues, and played all sorts of instruments; though she dressed like a French-woman; and flirted — like any woman, — some way or other, all these perfections had hitherto been exerted in vain ; Maria was still unmarried. The men agreed that she sang and played like an angel ; but that she looked like — what it would not be very civil to repeat ; but, which, however, some very particular friend of Maria's did repeat; whereupon Lady Anne marked the delinquent in her black book, and vowed that she would make him repent before he died — that is to say, marry. Lady Anne, indeed, was the more indignant at the observation, because she felt there was some truth in it. Having, through her own family, an excellent introduction for her daughters, into the best English set, she had once hoped that Maria, although plain, might, perhaps, have been fashionable ; but there, again, she was baffled. Maria, though she had the two essential requisites for fashion, that is to say, intrepidity and hardiness, was considered by her exclusive acquaintance, as much too vivacious, ever to become perfectly high bred. Unfortunately for her, she possessed much of the humour of her country ; and had, more than once, not only actually laughed herself, but had caused others to perpetrate a similar enormity. She was, in consequence, set down as " sadly Irish," in other words, extreme mauvais ton ,- if not positively vulgar, something closely approximating- to it. Maria, it appears, was not aware that although an Englishman of a certain caste, may perchance be induced to enjoy a jest, he never fails to pretend to undervalue the jester, whether the said jester be an amateur, or a buffoon by profession ; that, conscious how much trouble a witty saying would cost himself, he imagines the gaiety of his lively neighbours to be as great an effort to them as to him ; and that, therefore, when they laugh, or are brilliant, in his presence, all that is done by selfadmitted inferiors, to please a superior. So poor Maria was accused of being very Irish.

" Next to saying I picked a bone," said she to her mother, as they chatted over a criticism reported to have been made upon her, the evening before, " or that I eat with my knife, they could not, according to their code of manners, say a worse thing of me ; stupid, prosing set ! I will let them see, if we come to the push, that they will have the worst of it. They don't yet know a tithe of what is in me ; they imagine, because I do not talk as if I were half asleep, that it is because I cannot talk. To-morrow evening, at my uncle's, I will look, and move, and speak, so like the Lady Vapids, that no one in the room but will confess I could be as ' nice a person,' and as tiresome, as the best among them."

The powers of mimicry which Maria had hitherto restrained, she fully displayed at her uncle's, on the night of which she had spoken — allowing her fastidious censors to see what was in store for them, if they did not leave her and her Irishism unmolested.

"So, you imagine," said she to one of her critics, "that we laugh to divert you ; and that, therefore, you must be gods to us. You are mistaken, my good lord, we do not laugh to amuse you, but to amuse ourselves; we laugh because we like it; because we can't help it, in fact. What would the philosopher of old, who defined man to be a laughing animal, say to you English] — you high English, 1 mean"? Why he would say you were'sa(//y English.' I have philosophy, you see, as well as nature, on my side ; so pray rfo let me laugh, and allow yourselves to laugh along with me."

Maria, thanks to her courage, kept her ground, among her fashionable associates; and she became, at last, not so much vulgar as odd ; but Maria knew that men of fashion have as great an objection to odd girls, as to vulgar ones. " I see, plainly," said she, " that I shall never be able to marry among: them: but some fool or other, with money, who is out of the set, will think it a fine thing to take me, because I am in it ; that is all I can expect, after all my battling for a place among them. Isabel, you have a better chance than I have, you are so much more quiet."

Maria was right. Her sister Isabel possessed a natural timidity which made her more fitted for the impress for English mannerism. Though not called beautiful, few could see her without feeling her to be so. Her acquirements did not bear quite so professional a stamp as those of her sister, but there was more taste evinced in the manifestation of them. Her conversation was quiet, but interesting — animated, without being positively gay ; graceful, and slightly dashed with romance. Indeed, she was altogether better suited than her sister to have succeeded among the " high English." But then, Isabel Wilmot had no money; and beauty, and elegance, and accomplishments are such drugs in London ! Besides, she had some strange and peculiar ways of thinking, which checked her success in life. She never could be induced to imitate her sister's "Bold strokes for a Husband;" and would even venture to remonstrate with her on such open love-making to the men.

" My dear, do not talk nonsense," her mother would say ; *' your sister must do as others do — as all your acquaintances either have done, are doing, or will do. Men will not make love, now-a-days; they must, therefore, be made love to; — one of your curls is out of place, my love."

And here Maria would chime in — " You are so ridiculous, Isabel — wanting to play the violet, forsooth ; modest and retired, waiting to be sought for ; prettily indifferent whether a hand come to cull you or not; but this might have been very right a century ago, my good child ; — when the men would woo, it was perhaps right that women should wait to be wooed; but " autres temps, autresmsews, ma belle,'''' — you violet young ladies may now remain till you wither, before any one comes to pluck you ; — the men of the present day expect us to court them.''''

'•Truly! a fitting expectation," Isabel would rejoin: 'so while they repose in their dignity, like the Eastern gentleman on his couch, we are to play the part of Bayaderes, and after we have danced and sung like Terpsichores and Syrens ; after we have exhausted all our little wiles and graces, to charm their apathy, we are to think ourselves repaid, if we win a smile in return, from their high mightinesses. That I will never donever" — she would add, earnestly.

«' Don't be so emphatic about nothing at all, my dear, 'tis extreme ^ mauvais ton,^ ^^ her mother would answer. "You need not marry at all, you know, if you don't choose it; but all I wish to observe is, that if you do intend marrying, and marrying in a certain rank, you must not expect the men to look after you."

Now, Lady Anne had brought up her daughters to consider a single life as any thing rather than a life of "blessedness;" but though Isabel shivered at the thought of being an old maid, she also shrunk at the idea of running after the men, though daily exhorted to it by her dear mama's precepts, and her sister's example. She was too worldly-minded to be perfectly high-minded ; and too high-minded to be perfectly worldly ; so she halted between two sets of feelings and opinions; — a marrying girl — and yet a dignified one. She had both a head and a heart, and yet she aimed to establish herself among " the certain set," who, as it is proverbially said, do not care or pretend to either. She felt chilled by their coldness, taught by their hollowness, wearied by their apathy ; but then, rank, fashion, fortune, floated as a bright vision before her eyes ; and, like many other girls, she thought it possible, some day or other, to reconcile her ambition with her affections. In fact, she was incapable of sacrificing her feelings to her interests; but she determined never to indulge the one at the expense of the other. While in this state of vacillation, her father was obliged, in consequence of having been robbed by his local agents, to return with his family from London to Ireland, where they had been remaining now nearly two years in a solitude (comparatively speaking), very little to the taste of either of the sisters. Isabel would not listen to the soft speeches of any of her country neighbours, or haply she might have heard " something to her advantage." Amongst others, a certain Mr. McAlpine was deeply smitten with her; — of him more anon. But though the gentlemen thought her very handsome, they also thought she gave herself rather too many airs; as for the ladies, they of course abominated her; for it is allowed to a woman, by women, to be either pretty or clever; but, to be both together is unpardonable ; and they, therefore, liked Maria better than Isabel, because the men did not.

Still, " though devilish ugly," according to the phraseology of her Irish male friends, Maria Wilmot was a " devilish" pleasant, off-hand girl ; no London airs, like the beauty ; no stuff and nonsense about her, but the truth of a good-humoured, rattling girl, " who said everything that came uppermost."

Dear g-entlemen ! you were never more mistaken in your lives. Maria Wilmot, vilh all her apparent abandon^ never said anything for which she had not a motive. You imagined that one who incessantly talked and laughed could "have had no harm in her" — that is to say, no design upon you ; and all the ill-natured things she said of herTellow-women, and all the forward ones she said to yourselves, were, therefore, set down y you to mere spirits and giddiness.

Maria, in truth, scarce ever lost presence of mind. She was cased in armour of brass, nothing touched or disconcerted her; and surely, if possession be eleven points in the law of the land, impudence is eleven points in the game of life ; indeed, it is a gift as valuable as talent in man, or as beauty in woman, for it makes its possessor independent of either. We have enlarged somewhat on this point of Maria's indiosyncracy, inasmuch as without the perfect knowledge of her distinguishing characteristic, the reader might be unable fully to comprehend her future proceedings.

Chapter III

On, or about the day that Lord Warringdon left London on his way to Wilmot castle. Lady Anne and her daughters were sitting in the breakfast-room of the afore-named edifice, reading, and occasionally amusing themselves by watching the rain, which poured in torrents outside the windows and even penetrated a little on their inside. Wilmot castle, originally a shooting-lodge, had only recently become (for certain cogent reasons which we do not choose to mention, but which the sheriff of its county town could guess at,) the family residence. Towers of various heights and forms, and of different orders of architecture, classic, gothic, and oriental, according to the suggestion of each successive adviser of the family, were' heaped together with the coolest disregard of the suitable, the convenient, or even of the comfortable.

*' What a day !" exclaimed Maria, yawning — " I wonder will my papa bring in any people from the assizes 1"

"I'm sure," observed Isabel, "it is as well to be without any, as to have such creatures as he is likely to bring."

" My dear, I make it a rule," returned Maria, "to be satisfied, wherever I am, with the best the country produces, whether as regards eatables, wearables, or fiirtables. You can't gather ' grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles :' and because I can't get pine-apples, I will not sit down and starve, if there are plenty even of good potatoes within my reach."

"That's what I call sound philoso[)hy, Maria." "Excellent! for it's sound sense," agrfed Lady Anne, looking off her book for a moment, to commend her elder daughter's rationality.

"I assure you, Isabel," continued Maria, "if it were only to keep your hand m, you would do well to flirt a little now and then, with whatever God sends : 'why don't you take pattern by Miss Maria?' as old nurse says, 'you see what elegant divarsion she makes for herself, not all as one, as Miss Isabel.'"

" That's all very well for nurse to say, but — " " But," interrupted Maria, laughing, "not very well for me to do; is that it, sentimental Isabel? For my part, I think flirting not only an agreeable, but a very salutary, pastime. A good flirting bout adds at least, ten years to i7iy life. I remember when you were a pretty good hand at it, yourself, Isabel."

" So do I, too," replied Isabel smiling, " but not with such men as you are talking about — I could not flirt with a man I did not like."

"I could, then ; aye, and not only flirt with him, but — marry him."

" Well !" replied Isabel, "lean much better understand a woman's marrying a man she dislikes, than flirting with one she dislikes."

"Upon what principle?" asked Maria.

"Upon the principle that a man might with great calmness suffer a rope to be placed round his neck, although he will hardly laugh, and jest, and bandy witty sayings with the hangman."

"Bravo, bravo!" exclaimed Maria, laughing, "a husband compared to a hangman ! c^est unique ma there — but there's Paudeen, I vow ! and I dare say he brings a letter from mv father."

And she started off to the hall-door to watch Paudeen, puffing and blowing, as he ascended the hill leading to the Castle. Little Paudeen was one of the corps de reserve composed of errand boys, and idling boys, who seemed just born into the world for no other purpose than to supply, by their little bare

CANVASSING.

legs, the occasional lapses of memory of the Castle Wilmot household.

" Murdher ! we forgot to send for the salt ! The beef will be spoilt intirely, for want of the salt ! Where in the world is Paudeen ? Till I'd make him step across the mountain for the salt."

But Paudeen would have been despatched the night before " for the tay, that was forgot to be sint for, the same time as the sugar." And one of Paudeen's compeers would be packed off for the salt. And so, Paudeen was now returning, after performing some confidental mission of this nature, from the assize town.

" How are you, Paudeen?" said Maria, finely.

" I thank your honour, Miss :" replied Paudeen, pulling out a lock of his hair, in his eagerness to make his best bow. He would have pulled off his hat if he had one.

" Well, Paudeen, did you see the master!" —

"I did, plaze your honour:" replied the hatless, shoeless page of Castle Wilmot.

" And when is he coming?" continued Maria.

" The day after to-morrow, he will be here, Miss :" rejoined Paudeen.

" And do you know what prevented his coming yesterday V

" W^aiting for the gintleman, I b'lieve, Miss,"

" What gentleman?" asked Maria, briskly.

"The gintleman from England, Miss."

" What has a gentleman from England to do with the master's coming home, Paudeen ?"

" Sure it has everything to do with it, wherin the gintleman is coming along with himself — came all the ways from England, a purpose to ax the masther's lave to be made a mimber of, Miss."

" Can it be Lord Warringdon, I wonder ?" said Maria, thinking aloud.