# Vivian Grey/Volume 5/Chapter 7.5

CHAPTER V.
Although brought up with a due detestation of the Methuen treaty, Vivian by no means disapproved of Dr. von Spittergen's remedy. The wine was good and very old; for, not being a very popular liquor with any other European nation, except ourselves, the Porto-Porto had been suffered to ripen under the cobwebs of half a century, in the ample cellar of the Grand Hotel of the Four Nations, at Reisenburg. As Vivian was hesitating whether he should repeat the dose, or join the Court dinner, Essper George came into the room.
"Please your Highness, here is a lady who wants you!"
"A lady!—who can she be?"
​"She did not give her name, but wishes to speak to you."
"Ask her to come up."
"I have, your Highness; but she is on horseback, and refused."
"What kind of person is she?"
"Oh," drawled out Essper, "she is not as tall as a horseguard, and yet might be mistaken for a church-steeple when there was a cloud over the moon; she is not as stout as Master Rodolph, and yet she would hardly blow away when the wind was down."
The fair horsewoman must not, however, be kept waiting, even if she were as mysterious as an unlaid ghost, or a clerk in a public office; and consequently, Vivian speedily made his bow to his interesting visitant.
Miss Melinda von Spittergen, for the Amazon was no other than the dread Doctor's fair daughter, was full six feet high, thin, and large boned; her red curly hair was cut very short behind; yet, in spite of this, and her high-boned cheeks, her fine florid complexion, blue eyes, small mouth, and regular white teeth, altogether ​made up a countenance which was prepossessing. She was mounted on a very beautiful white horse, which never ceased pawing the ground the whole time that it stood before the Hotel; and she was dressed in a riding-habit of blue and silver, with buttons as large as Spanish dollars. As the construction of riding-habits is a subject generally interesting to Englishwomen, let me say, that Miss von Spittergen's was of a very full make, with a very long waist, and a very high collar. A pink cravat almost as effectively contrasted with the colour of her dress, as her white hat and feathers. She sat her spirited steed with the nonchalance of a perfect horsewoman; and there was evidently no doubt, that, had it been necessary, she could have used with becoming spirit her long-lashed riding-whip; the handle of which, I should not omit to mention, was formed of a fawn's foot, graced by a silver shoe.
"Good morning, Sir!" said Miss von Spittergen, as Vivian advanced. "My father hopes to have the pleasure of your company at dinner to-day. A ride is the very best thing he can ​prescribe for you; and if you will order your horse, we will be off immediately."
"Dr. von Spittergen is very kind!" said Vivian, quite confused—quite wonder-struck.
"Oh! not at all; my father is always most happy to see his friends."
"Dr. von Spittergen is very kind," again stammered out our hero; "but I fear an unfortunate engagement—an——"
"I must take no refusal," said Miss von Spittergen, smiling: "a physician's commands are peremptory. You can have no engagement which may not be broken; for you should not have made one without his permission. He expects you at dinner, and to stay the night. Your bed is prepared."
"Really Dr. von Spittergen is very kind—but quite ashamed—so much trouble—so—"
"Oh! not at all. If it were trouble, of course, we should not insist on that which would be alike disagreeable to our friends and to ourselves. Come, order your horse!"
"Really I cannot withstand," said Vivian, a little more collected, "what is at the same time ​an invitation and a command. It gives me equal pleasure both to accept and to obey."
"I am very happy that I have not failed in my embassy," said Miss von Spittergen. "We will then be off: time presses. Marcus Aurelius flung a shoe on the road, and lost me half an hour, and I wish you to see a little of the country efore dinner."
"I will detain you not five minutes; but will you not dismount and walk up stairs till my horse is ready?"
"No: if I dismount, I must stand at his head," said Miss von Spittergen, pointing to her horse; "I cannot trust Marcus Aurelius to any strange groom."
"Well then, you will excuse me for a moment. I am half engaged at the Court dinner; and I must scribble a line to his Excellency the Grand Marshal. You will excuse me?"
"Most assuredly! but give them directions about your horse at once."
In ten minutes time, Vivian and Miss Melinda von Spittergen had left the Hotel of the Four Nations. They cantered through the Pub​lic Gardens, and quitted the city through a new gate, which may truly be described as commemorative of the triumph of the Reisenburg troops during the late war. This arch was commenced by Napoleon, after the arrangement of the Confederation of the Rhine. It was not finished, when the event of the battle of Leipsic virtually dissolved that body. By skilfully placing the most personal bas-reliefs in the very highest and obscurest parts of the elevation, and by adroitly converting the countenances in those already placed into the more successful heads of the Allied Sovereigns, the Triumphal Arch of the Emperor Napoleon finally commemorated his defeat; and, at this moment, it bears the dignified title of the Gate of the Allies. Through this portal, gaily cantered Miss Melinda von Spittergen and Mr. Vivian Grey.
"This road," said the lady, "leads to our house; but half an hour would carry us there, and from so short a ride you cannot expect any very great benefit; therefore we will make a round, and as there is no cross road nigh, follow me." So saying, Miss von Spittergen ​cleared a hedge, with an air which, had it been witnessed by certain gentlemen whom I could mention, would have caused her immediately to be elected an honorary member of the Melton. Vivian Grey followed. Miss von Spittergen, touching Marcus Aurelius with a silver spur, dashed over a field of stubble. Max was not to be beat, even by Marcus Aurelius! and his master consequently kept by the lady's side. Another leap, and another field, and then a gate—all at a full gallop. An extensive plain succeeded, over which Miss Melinda and Vivian scudded for an hour without speaking, like Faust and Mephistophiles on the enchanted steeds. The plain is passed, and a down-hill gallop over most rugged and broken ground, proved at the same time the sure-footedness of the horses, the courage of Miss von Spittergen, and the gallantry of Vivian Grey. At the bottom of the hill, they found themselves in marsh ground, and the next turn revealed to them a river: the stream was broad and strong, and looked deep.
​"Come on!" said Miss von Spittergen, turning round.
"Are we obliged to cross this river?" asked Vivian. "Is there no bridge-no ferry?"
"Bridge or ferry!" said Miss von Spittergen, laughing; "what do you want with a bridge or ferry? Follow me, if you please. We'll soon cure this 'little cold' of yours!"—So saying, Miss von Spittergen pulled up Marcus Aurelius, turned her knees over his neck, and then tucking her habit several times round them, so that no part of it hung lower than her horse's mane, she cracked her whip with great spirit, skilfully lashed the Roman emperor on the ham, and almost before Vivian had observed what she was doing, Marcus Aurelius and Miss Melinda von Spittergen were buffetting the boisterous waves. To be outdone by a woman!—impossible!—and so Vivian Grey, elevating his legs as much as he possibly could, and throwing his stirrups over his saddle, dashed into the stream. It was a tight business; and certainly, had not the summer been ​extremely dry, the river would not have been fordable. As it was, after much puffing, and panting, and struggling, the lady and gentleman found themselves on the opposite bank. They had now to ascend awhile, for the stream which they had just forded watered a valley. The road being very steep, and the horses being rather pressed by their passage, Miss von Spittergen, to Vivian's great relief, did not immediately start off at full gallop; and consequently her companion, who actually had not yet had an opportunity of conversing with her, seized the present one to compliment her on her horsemanship.
"A most delightful run!" continued Vivian: "I trust it will not fatigue you."
"Why should it?" said Miss von Spittergen, smiling her surprise at his apprehensions. "What then!—I suppose you think, because I chance to wear a riding-habit instead of a frock-coat, that I am to sink under the effects of half an hour's canter. I know that is your regular English creed."
​"No, indeed!" said Vivian—"but such exertions as clearing hedges, and fording rivers!"
"Clearing hedges! fording rivers! you have gone over nothing this morning which need have prevented you sleeping on your horse's back. I see you are not prepared for German cross roads; a little amble in the park, in the morning, and a dance with a fainting fair one for two or three hours in the evening, furnish, I suppose, your ideas of fatigue. Now if I were to pass such a day, I should die at the end of it."
"Really, you are shockingly severe;" said Vivian in a deprecating tone. "One would think that I was Emilius von Aslingen himself, by your description of my life. I had hoped that my prowess this morning would have saved me from such a reputation; but as I now learn that these feats count for nothing, I confess that I begin to tremble."
"I was not dreaming of casting the least imputation on you," rejoined Miss von Spittergen; "I was merely undeceiving you as regarded myself. If you think that any acci​dental exhilaration of spirits has produced this exertion, and that I am consequently to be a stupid, sleepy, companion for the rest of the day, your alarm will cease, when I inform you that I have not this morning taken one fourth of my usual exercise; and that even if I were ever so tired, I should be immediately refreshed by half an hour's diving in our great bath. But if you were to tighten me up like one of your native belles, and set me gliding through a quadrille in a hot room, I should expire on the spot. Now, as you look either surprised or incredulous, remember I have proved to you that I can ride; now see that I am prepared to swim." And taking off her hat, Miss von Spittergen exhibited to her companion her close cut hair, in a state as naturally dishevelled as his own.
"Indeed your proof is unnecessary!" said Vivian; "I admire, but do not doubt. Believe me that I did not remonstrate with you from any selfish anticipation for the evening; but from an habitual apprehension for the natural fragility of the sex."
​"The natural fragility of the sex!" exclaimed Miss von Spittergen, laughing. "Good heavens, Mr. Grey, what a very pretty apprehension! I have a vast mind, as a reward for your consideration, that you should listen to a lecture from my father to-night, on the natural powers of the sex. He will tell you, what I am sure is very true—that your creed is a gallant apology for idleness; and vain as that which it attempts to excuse. Depend upon it, that if woman choose to put forth her energies, she will equal you lords of the universe, much as you may think of yourselves!"
"I am the last man in the world to dispute woman's superiority on any point," rejoined Vivian, "except as to that physical power which is no proof of excellence; it being an attribute we can neither acquire nor command, and one in which even the brutes surpass us. For all those qualities of mind which distinguish—"
"Mercy! Mr. Grey," exclaimed Miss von Spittergen, "you are running headlong into metaphysics, which always distract me. I am not a metaphysician, but a naturalist; and I ​argue from the experience of facts; that the natural power of woman is equal to the natural power of man, bodily and mental; and that the difference supposed to exist, does not arise from want of capability, but from want of exercise—just as we ridiculously imagine that the right hand is stronger and more useful than the left, and that the feet are given to us only to walk with. I can fire a musket, and hit my mark as surely with the one hand as with the other; and I know a man who writes beautifully, and can adjust the nicest piece of mechanism with his feet, because, being born without arms, he has used the substitute which Nature has given him. But our argument and our ride must now end together; for see! we are at home, and my father is just arriving before us."
Miss von Spittergen pointed through a rising plantation to an old-fashioned house, many rooms in which would have been consigned to utter obscurity, had it not been for the light which streamed through a small heart cut in the upper part of their heavy oak window-shutters. The house stood on a green, which ​was surrounded by a wall not more than two feet high; and to the left, barns, stables, stacks, and piles of wood, presented the appearance of a well-ordered farm. Miss von Spittergen and Vivian crossed a dyke from the plantation, and immediately passing through a large white wooden gate, with two hideous griffins grinning on the top of it, Marcus Aurelius dashed up to the stable door, followed by Max. They were instantly saluted by an immense Newfoundland, whose joyous bark was answered by a responsive neigh from his companion of the stable; and in an instant, Triton was scrambling up Marcus Aurelius, for the pleasure of biting Miss von Spittergen's silver buttons, and licking her face with his great red tongue.
"Down—down, Triton!"
Triton obeyed very unwillingly, but turning round, felt himself greatly consoled for his rebuff, by seeing that he had to welcome a visitor. He flew up at Max's neck. The princely pet, unused to such rude embraces, showed certain signs of exclusiveness, which made Vivian exercise his whip across master ​Triton's back; who, in his turn, was equally irate at this unusual and ungrateful reception of his caresses. The dog slunk from under Vivian's lash, and springing up behind Max, made him give a sudden and violent kick, which sent Vivian, unprepared as he was, head foremost into some low, thick bushes of box, which had been planted to screen a pig-sty. It was fortunate for him that he did not make an unexpected appearance in the abode of Miss von Spittergen's favourite Columbine—a Chinese lady-pig, with a young family of delicate daughters, all so exquisitely high-bred, that they were almost without heads, bones, or feet. Columbina's maternal fears might have inflicted on Vivian some wounds, which he escaped receiving in the yielding box—from which, indeed, he most quickly extricated himself—animated in his rapid exertions to regain the dignified perpendicular by the loud and unrestrained laughter of Miss von Spittergen, who saw that he had not received the slightest injury, and was therefore most unmercifully mirthful.
​"Well, Mr. Grey! my father need not have been afraid of your inertness. I never met with a finer instance of agility. It is fortunate that I did not take Triton out with me, according to my usual custom, if this be a specimen of the result of your companionship. How came you to jump off your horse in such a hurry? You should have given Max a lesson, instead of leaving him to caper about by himself."
"How came I to jump off!" said Vivian; "in truth, Max was not courteous enough to offer me an alternative; but we must remember that he is not yet used to your treatment, and excuse a little ill humour."
A Vis-à-vis drove up to the door, just as Miss von Spittergen and Vivian were about to enter. They were met on the broad flight of steps by a very old white-headed domestic, who bowed low as he passed them, to open the carriage door for his master. The door was opened, but no Dr. von Spittergen alighted. The old valet gently closed it again, but remained standing by the side of the vehicle.
​"Well, Francis," said Miss von Spittergen; why have you shut the door?"
"Please you, my young lady," said the venerable attendant; "my master is dozing: is it your pleasure that I should try to wake him?"
"Asleep, is he? oh! I'll wake him myself—Sir! here is Mr. Grey, our visitor; will not you come into the house?"
"Ah! ah! true! which is he? how much does he weigh? more than me?" asked the good doctor waking, his morning doze having presented to him an image, of which he was always either thinking or dreaming—a man larger than himself. This character, Dr. von Spittergen had not yet been so fortunate as to meet; though his first inquiry, on the mention of any stranger's name, invariably was, "how much does he weigh?"
Miss von Spittergen, perfectly aware that her father was not yet quite awake, only laughed at his question, and instead of replying to it, asked another.
​"Whom have you seen to-day, Sir—and what news have you brought us?"
"News! why I have been in a confounded passion; perhaps that is no news."
"What is all this about, Sir? who has been disobeying orders?"
"If you ask twenty questions at the same time, I should like to know how I am to answer them; let me out!"
The doctor descended, and leaning on the arm of his daughter, and followed by Vivian, he entered the house; muttering the whole way without ceasing, much after the following fashion.
"My mind's made up. I have said before—most people make a great talk, and it ends in nothing—that's not my way—when I say a thing, I do it. Melinda! why haven't you gathered the seed of that geranium? it won't be worth a kreüzer. How do you feel after your ride, Mr. Grey? Don't both speak at the same time—I can't bear such a Babel in my ears—not that I believe there ever was ​such a thing! Well, Sir! you haven't told me how you are, though—glad to go to your room, I suppose? But, I say, Melinda—in spite of all I have said to the Grand Duke, here's Madame Carolina ill again—that is, I don't think there's any thing the matter with her—some whim-wham! though if she were to die, I shouldn't much wonder, breathing the same air over and over again every night, smothered up in that state-bed. I told the Grand Duke this morning, for the hundredth time, that bed-curtains were the origin of every disease, and that if he doesn't order away those heavy hangings, he may find a Court physician where he can. Where's Theresa, that she doesn't come to show Mr. Grey his room? He's tired to death I dare say; just as I said—nothing of him! no stamina! Pray Sir, what sort of man was your father? how much did he weigh?"
"This way, Sir, if you please," said a little thin old woman, in a starched ruff and cap; as she led Vivian down a long passage. "Mind the step, Sir, if you please; these old houses are full of them; master often talks of levelling ​them, but it's all talk with him, Sir.—I have lived in this house fifty years without seeing any alteration. This is your room, Sir; you will remember it by the great beau-pot, which I have put beside your toilet table. I don't know whether you'll find the bed too high at the head, Sir; we have no curtains, and master does not allow any of us to sleep under eiderdown. He has his particularities, and there's no getting him out of an old way. This bottle is rose-water, Sir, for your face; and this is eau de Cologne of my own making. There is a bell, Sir.—I wish you good day!"
Although Vivian's toilet was far from being a complicated one, a considerable time elapsed before it was completed. Indeed he found some difficulty, even in taking off his coat; for every exertion of his arms set him sliding a yard or two on the highly polished floor, and in five minutes, he had unwittingly described all the complicated figures of a first rate skaiter. He first flew up against a large embroidered firescreen, which the delicate fingers of some female von Spittergen had, ages ago, covered with ​carnations and ranunculuses; and then whirling through the mazes of a figure of eight, he nearly drove his elbow through a small pane of the heavy-framed window. A semicircle brought him in contact with the foot of his low bed, from which he bounded off at a right angle, and found himself seated in a high-backed, carved oaken chair. Here, while he sat forming plans for reaching the so-often missed toilet-table, the sound of the dinner-bell made him desperate; and thinking that he could best secure his steps by walking fearlessly ver the floor, he made a courageous advance, which ended in upsetting Mistress Theresa's beau-pot. Scarcely flattering himself that the good lady would suspect a favourite cat of the injury done to her toilet garniture, Vivian, in a precipitate retreat forgot the fatal step, of which he had been previously warned, and measured his length in the corridor.