The Press. — London, England, 1856-10-18 00:00:00

1002 Jingle, who are nevertheless likely to endure as long as our language. The incidents of " Kate Coventry " are comic without being farcical, and piquant without being incredible. It is not always because a circumstance is what critics call unnatural, that it is an improper element of fiction : there ought to be just sufficient improbability to make us wonder whether the thing can be so or not. But Major Melville never exceeds this line, and all within it is perfectly fair game, even if it does not consti tute one of the highest charms of fictitious narrative. The legitimate aim of a certaiu class of fiction is to kindle and sustain wonder; but when incidents become unduly extrava gant, they fail in their object, and excite con tempt instead. The excellence of the present author consists in the dexterity with which he treads this narrow boundary line, separating the uncommon from the incredible. Among his mistakes in character the follow ing passage struck us very strongly. The scene is Hampton races:— There was a handsome girl, with beautiful teeth and neatly-braided hair, and such a brilliant smile, attracting a crowd round her, as she sang piquant songs in a sweet deep•toned voice that ought to have made her fortune on the stage, if it had been properly cultivated •—sang them, too, with a look and manner that I have seen seldom rivalled by the cleverest actresses; and I thought what a face and form were wasted here to make profit for one knave, and sport for some fifty fools. As she accom panied herself on the harp, and touched its strings with a grace and expression which made amends for a certain want of tuition, I could not help fancying her in a drawing-room, surrounded by admirers, making many a heart ache with her arch smile and winning ways. With out being positively beautiful, she had the knack so few women possess, of looking charming in every attitude, and with every expression of countenance; and although her songs were of a somewhat florid school, yet I could not help thinking that, with those natural gifts, and a plaintive old ballad, English or Scotch, such as " Annie Laurie," or " The Nut-brown Maid," to bring them out, in a pretty drawing-room, with the assistance of a good dressmaker —dear ! she might marry a duke, if she liked. And yet all this belonged to a dark, close-shaved ruffian, with silver rings and a yellow handkerchief, who scowled and prowled about her, and looked as if he was likely enough to beat her when they got home. But she hands up an ivory bowl for contributions amongst the young dandies on the roof of a neighbouring coach, who have been listening open-mouthed to the Siren, and shillings and half-crowns, and a bit of gold from the one last out of the Bench, pour into it : and she moves off, to make way for three French glee-maidens, with a monkey and a tambourine, and the swells return to their cigars and their betting, and we are all attention for the next event on the card, because it is a gentleman-riders' race ; and the performances will consequently be as different as possible from what we have just seen. These sort of reflections are not likely to pass through the mind of a young lady—especially the remark in italics, which might perhaps escape the lips of an actress or coryphee, hut is certainly beyond the range of young-lady sagacity. _ - - - The following incident, considering the characters involved, does not strike one as untruthful, though it may be said experience is against its truth. It is just after a Green wich dinner:— " How quick the time passes," said Frank, with almost a sigh. " Can't we do anything to put off horrid London, and home, and bed—let's all go to Vauxhall." " What do you say, Mr. Jones?" inquired Lady Scapegrace, who was always ready for a lark—" yuu're our chaperon, you know; do you think you can be re• sponsible ? " Oh yes, John," I exclaimed. " You promised to take me once before the end of the season; we shall never have such another chance." " This is a capital night to go," remarked Frank, " because there is a new riding•woman, and you can take a lesson, Miss Coventry, in case you should wish to perform in public." Cousin John could not possibly hold out against all three ; and although I think in his heart he did not entirely approve, the carriage was ordered, the bill paid, and we were rolling along through the cool summer night en route for Vauxhall. My dear," said Lady Scapegrace to me, as we sidled through the entrance of that place of amusement, and the gentlemen remained behind to pay, "you arc doing any. thing but what I told you ; scarcely three words have you spoken to your cousin, who, by the way, is very pleasant—l Wink I shill take him up, and improve him on my own account ; but as for you, my dear, I can see plainly it's all over with you!" . • " And you really leave town to•mormw ? " said Frank, as WO walked arm-in•ar m u p one o f t h ose sha d ed alleys winch lea Ito the " Hermit," or the " Gipsy," or some other ex• cuse for a tete-d-tite not too much under the lamps. By the way, why is it that a party never can keep together at Veuxh•ill? Lady Seapeg,raec and I had particularly stipu lated that we were not to separate under any circum stances. " Whatever happens, do let us keep together," we mutually implored at least ten times during the first THE PRESS. five minutes, and yet no sooner did we pair off arm-in•arm, than the distance began gradually to increase, till we found ourselves " in couples," totally independent of each other's proceedings. In this manner we saw the horse• manship, and the acrobats, and the man with the globe, and all the other eccentricities of the circus. I really think I could have ridden quite as nicely as Madame Rose d'Amour, had I been mounted on an equally weldbroken animal with the one which curveted and caracoled under that much rouged and widely-smiling dame. They do look pretty, too, at a little distance, these histrionic horsewomen, with their trappings, and their spangles, and their costume of Francis I. I often wonder whether people really rode out hawking got up so entirely regard• less of expense in the days of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. From the horsemanship we went to see the people dance, which they did with a degree of vigour and hilarity such as might be introduced, in a modified form, with great advantage, into good society; and here we came across Cousin John and Lady Scapegrace, just in time to witness a short and abrupt interview between the latter and Sir Guy. Yes—there was Sir Guy, with the flower in his mouth and all—dancing, actually dancing—and he can't be much less than sixty—with a little smart lady wearing the most brilliant colour, and the blackest eye- lashes, and the reddest lips, and the lightest eyes I ever saw upon a human being. The little lady, whose hair moreover was dressed d l'lmperatrice, thereby imparting additional boldness to a countenance not remarkable for modesty, frisked and whisked round Sir Guy with a vivacity that must have been of Parisian growth ; whilst the baronet laboured ponderously along with true British determination, like a man who habitually wears very thick shoes, and is used to take his own time. In the course of his evolutions he brought his foot down heavily on the skirt of a lady's dress, and turning round to apolo gise, found himself face to face with his wife ! To do him justice, he was not the least taken aback—anger rather than confusion seemed to be his dominant feeling ; and although he tried to smother a rising oath in a laugh, or rather a grin —it was such a muscular contraction of the mouth as does not give me the idea of a smile. " Come out for a lark, too, my lady ? hey ?" said the baronet, studiously interposing his large person between "my lady " and his partner. "Reminds one of Paris ; dance with anybody, whether one knows them or not; " and Sir Guy tried to look as if he was telling the truth, with indifferent success. But Lady S2apegrace's face was a perfect study ; I never saw a countenance so expressive of scorn—intense scorn—and yet, as it seemed to me, not so much of him as of herself. " I am glad you amuse yourself, Sir Guy,'' she said very quietly, but her lip was as white as ashes while she spoke. " I should think this place must suit yon exactly. Mr. Jones, we shall be late for the fireworks," and she swept on, taking no further notice of the dis comfited Sir Guy, whilst Frank and I followed in her wake, feeling rather awkward even at witnessing this ill timed rencontre. We give the denouement of the story, as affording a good specimen of the author's dra matic skill : I took my candle, and kissed Lady Scapegrace affec tionately as I thanked her, and wished her " good night." It was already late, and my room was quite at the other end of the house. As T sped along, devoutly trusting I should not meet any of the gentlemen on their way to bed, I spied a figure advancing towards me from the end of a long corridor. It was attired in a flowing dressing gown of crimson silk, with magnificent Turkish slippers, and carried a hand candlestick much off the perpen dicular, as it swayed up the passage in a somewhat devious course. When it caught sight of me it extended both its arms, regardless of the melted wax with which such a manoeuvre bedaubed the wall, and prepared, with many endearing and complimentary expressions, to bar my further progress. The figure was no less a person than Sir Guy, half tipsy, proceeding from his dressing•room to bed. What to do I knew not. I shuddered at the idea of meeting the baronet at such an hour, and in so excited a state. I loathed and hated him at all times, and I quite trembled now to face his odious compliments and impertinent double-entendres. My hunting experience, however, had given me a quick eye to see my way out of a difficulty : and espying a green-baize door on my right, I rushed through it, and down a flight of stone steps that led I knew not where. Giving a view•holloa that must have startled every light sleeper in the house, Sir Guy followed close in my wake, dropping the silver candle stick with a most alarming clatter. I saw I had not the speed of him to any great extent, so I dodged into the first empty room I came to, and, blowing out my light, resolved to lie there perdue till my pursuer hac: overrun the scent. The mano3uvre answered admirably so far. I heard the enemy swearing volubly as he blundered along the passage, thinking I was still before him ; and I now pre pared to grope my way back in the dark to my own room. But I had not escaped yet. To my infinite dismay. I heard the voices of gentlemen wishing each other the usual " Good night, old fellow," and proceeding along the passage from the direction of the smoking-room. Horror of horrors ! a light approached the door of the very room in which I had taken refuge; in another second be would enter—the man would find me in his room. He stopped a moment on the threshold to fire a parting jest at his companions, and the light from his candle showed me my only chance. A covered shower-bath stood in the corner of the apartment, and into that shower-bath I jumped. closing the curtains all round me, but, as may be easily be lieved, taking very particular care not to pull the string. Scarcely was I fairly ensconced, before Frank Lovell made his appearance ; and I saw at once, through a hole in the curtains, that he was the lawful occupier and possessor of the apartment. SATURDAY, Here was a predicament, indeed ! If the emergency had not been so desperate, I must have fainted. " Good gracious," I thought, "if he should lock the door! Frank, however, seemed to have no such intention ; I be lieve this is a precaution gentle:nen seldom adopt. On the contrary, he proceeded to make himself thoroughly at home. Lighting his candle, he leisurely divested himself of his coat, waistcoat, and neckcloth, enfolded his person in a large loose dressing-gawn, leaned his head on both hands, and gave a deep sigh. Apparently much relieved by this process, he took up his hair-brushes, and after a good refreshing turn at his locks and whiskers, and a muttered compliment to his own reflection in the glass, that sounded very like " you fool ! " he unlocked a small writing-case, and producing from its little bundle o f l et t ers, tied up with pink ribbon, selected them one by one, and read them over from beginning to end, kissing each with devout fervour as he replaced it carefully in its envelope. I would have given a great deal to know who they were from ; their perusal seemed to afford him mingled satisfac- tion and annoyance; but he sighed heavily again, and I saw he had a long lock of hair in his fingers, which he gazed at till the tears stood in his eyes. He kissed it, the traitor! and fondled it, and spoke to it, and clasped it to his heart (men are just as great fools as we are ). Whose could it be? Not mine, certainly, fort never gave him such a thing; Miss Molasses'? No : hers was black, and rather coarse, this was a silky chestnut. Could it have belonged to Mrs. Lumley? Hera was very much the same colour, and I often thought Frank rather ipris with her. Nonsense! that lively lady had not an atom of sentiment in her composition ; she would just as soon have thought of working him a counterpane ! I was so interested in my discoveries, that I forgot al together my own criticai position, the impracticability of escape till Frank had gone to sleep, the chance of arous ing him as I went out, or, more alarming still, the awful possibility of his lying awake all night When morning dawned, concealment could no longer be preserved, and what to do then ? I meditated a bold stroke. To rush from my hiding place, blow out both the candles before my host had recovered his surprise, and then run for it. Thrice was lon the eve of this perilous enterprise. Thrice my courage failed me at the critical moment. The fourth time I think I should have gone, when a knock at the door arrested my attention, and Frank's " Come in," wel comed a visitor whose voice I well knew to be that of Cousin John. The plot began to thicken. It was impos sible to get away now. " Lovell," said John, in an unusually grave voice, " I told you I wanted to speak a word with you, and this is the only time I can make sure of finding you alone." Frank was busy huddling his treasure back into the writing-case. " Drive, on, old fellow," said he, " there's lots of time ; it's not two o'clock yet." " Lovell," proceeded John, " you are an old friend of mine, and I have a great regard for you, but I have a duty to perform, and I must go through with it. Point blank, on your honour as a gentleman, I ask you, are you or are you not engaged to be married to Miss Molasses ?" Frank coloured, hesitated, looked confused, and then got angry. . . " Ko intimacy can give you a right to ask such a ques tion." he replied, talking very fast and excitedly ; " you take an unwarrantable liberty, both with her and me. Who told you I was going to be married at all? or what business is it of yours whether I am married or not ?" John began to get heated, too, but he looked very deter mined. "I am sony you should take it thus," he replied, "for you force me to come at once to the point. As the nearest relation and natural guardian of my cousin, Miss Coven try, 1 must ask your intention with regard to that young lady. I have often remarked you paid her great attention, but it was not till to-day that I heard your name coupled with hers, and a doubt expressed as to which of the ladies I have mentioned you meant to honour with your pre ference. I don't want to quarrel with you, Frank," added John, softening, " I don't want to mistrust your good feel ings or your honour. Perhaps you don't know her as well as I do; perhaps you can't appreciate her value like me. Many men would give away their lives for her—would think no sacrifice too dear at which to purchase her regard. Believe me, Frank, she's worth anything; if you have proposed to her, as I have reasons to think you must have done, confide in me ; I will smooth all difficulties ; I will arrange everything for you both. God knows I love her better than anything on earth ; but her happiness is my first consideration, and if she likes you, Frank, she shall marry you." Captain Lovell seemed to be of a different opinion. Ho bit his lip, looking angry and annoyed. "You go too fast, Mr. Jones," he replied, very stiffly; "I have never given the young lady you mention an oppor tunity of either accepting or refusing me. If ever lam fool enough to marry, I snail take the liberty of selecting my own wife, without consulting your taste ; and I really cannot undertake to wed every lively young lady that con- descends to flirt with me, merely pour passer le tempts." John's face grew (lark with anger. How noble he looked as he squared his fine figure and reared his gallant head, standing erect before his enemy, and scanning him from top to toe. He was very quiet, too ; he only said : Captain Lovell, I claim a brother's right to protect Miss Coventry's reputation, and as a brother I demand reparation fur the wrong you have done her; need I say any more?" " Not another syllable," replied Frank Lovell, carelessly. " Whenever you like, only the sooner the better. Popham always acts for me on these occasions; he don't go away till tomorrow afternoon, so I refer you to him. I'm getting sleepy now, Mr. Jones. I wish you a good night." . . Cousin John took up his candle, and retired. Never in my life had I been in such a position as this. That there would be a duel, I had not the slightest shadow of doubt —and all for my sake. That my gallant, generous, true hearted cousin should have behaved so nobly, so tin.