LUDICROUS ADVENTURE AT SUNBURY.
In the course of Hook's numerous suburban excursions, or possibly during his brief sojourn with Doctor Curtis, at Sunbury, he had become acquainted with a young lady, a resident in the neighbourhood, possessed of an amiable disposition and great personal attractions. Theodore was a favourite both with her family and herself, but her affections, unfortunately, were fixed upon another. Notwithstanding, however, the evident preference shown to his rival, the young gentleman prosecuted his suit with all the ardour and blindness of eighteen. It was to no purpose that good-humoured hints were thrown out on the part of his inamorata, that, highly agreeable as his society could not fail to be, another held that place in her regards for which he was in vain contending. He determined to set all upon a single cast, and to throw himself, and whatever loose silver might be remaining from the proceeds of his last operetta, at the fair one's feet.
On the day fixed for the final appeal, he found the ground already in the occupation of the enemy; and it was not till towards the close of the evening that an opportunity was to be snatched of making a formal proposal for the lady's hand: as might have been expected, it was declined, firmly but kindly; and off rushed the rejected swain, in a frenzy of rage, to his hotel, whither—for the little village in those days boasted but of one—he was soon followed by the successful candidate, Mr. P——.
It so happened that, in addition to the contretemps of being lodged beneath the same roof, the rivals actually occupied adjoining chambers, and were separated from each other merely by a thin boarded partition: everything that passed in one apartment was consequently pretty distinctly audible in the next; and the first sounds that greeted Mr. P—— on his arrival were certain strong objurgations and maledictions, in which his own name was constantly recurring, and which proceeded from the neighbouring room. Every now and then a boot-jack or a clothes-brush was hurled against the wall; next a noise would be heard as of a portmanteau being kicked across the floor, accompanied by such epithets as might be supposed most galling and appropriate to a discomfited foe. Then a pause—a burst of lamentation or an attempt at irony—then again more invectives, more railing, more boot-jacks, and so on for half the night did the hapless lover continue to bewail the bad taste of women in general, and the especial want of discernment in his own mistress; and to heap bitter abuse and inflict imaginary chastisement upon the person of his more favoured opponent.
Mr. P—— was a Welshman, and for a moment the hot blood of the Tudors and Llewellyns bubbled up; but "cool reflection at length came across:" the irresistible absurdity of the position struck with full force upon a mind rendered more than usually complacent by the agreeable assurances so lately received, and he threw himself on the bed in a fit of perfectly Homeric laughter. Early on the next morning Hook started for town; but whether he ever learnt the perilous vicinity in which he had passed the few preceding hours, we know not. The anecdote reached us from a different quarter.
During this period he was not so thoroughly engrossed by the anxieties of love, but that he found time and sufficient spirits for the indulgence of those lively pleasantries, which must doubtless have contributed much to recommend him to the favour of the lady's guardian, if not to her own. The name of the inn, "The Flower Pot," which was the scene of the absurd adventure just related, suggested one of these. There resided, it seems, at Sunbury, in a large house, an elderly gentleman, a bachelor, of somewhat eccentric disposition, whose ruling passion was for his garden. This, albeit prodigality was by no means a besetting sin of the proprietor, was kept in the most admirable order, and decorated, regardless of expense, with a profusion of ornaments in the very height of suburban fashion—leaden cupids, slate sun-dials, grottoes of oyster-shells and looking-glass, heaps of flints and overburned bricks, denominated rockwork, and beyond all, and above all, with a magnificent vase filled with a flaming cluster of fuchsias, geraniums, and a number of plants with brilliant blossoms and unutterable names, which faced the entrance. Here, one fine afternoon, when the flowers had reached their acme of refulgence, Mr. Theodore pulled up his dennet. A powerful tug at the bell brought a sort of half-gardener, half-groom, to the gate in double-quick time.
"Take the mare round to the stable, put her in a loose box, and rub her down well. I'll come and see her fed myself in a few minutes; none of you rascals are to be trusted!"
So saying, the young gentleman threw the reins to the domestic, marched leisurely along the broad, brown-sugar-looking walk, dexterously cutting off here and there an overgrown carnation with the lash of his driving-whip, and entered the hall. Giving another tremendous jerk to the bell-wire in passing, he walked into the dining-room, the door of which happened to be open, took up a magazine, and threw himself at full length upon the sofa. A tidily-dressed maid servant appeared at the summons.
"Bring me a glass of brandy-and-water, my dear, and send 'Boots.'"
"'Boots,' and 'brandy-and-water,'—La, sir!" exclaimed the astonished girl.
"You may fetch me a pair of slippers yourself, if you like; so make haste, and you shall have a kiss when you come back."
Duped by the authoritative air assumed by the visitor, (it would be indecorous to suppose another motive,) the attendant disappeared, and speedily returning with the slippers, observed,
"If you please, sir, I have brought you a pair, but they are master's, and he is rather particular."
"Particular! Nonsense! where's the brandy-and-water?"
"He never leaves out the spirits, sir; he always keeps the key himself, sir, in his own pocket."
"He must be a deuced odd sort of fellow, then: send him here immediately."
"Master is dressing, sir; he will be down directly," was the reply; and, accordingly, after the lapse of a few minutes, Mr. —— made his appearance in full evening costume.
"My good friend," commenced Hook, without raising his eyes from the paper, "allow me to observe, that the rules of your establishment are a little inconvenient to travellers: I have been here above a quarter of an hour, and have not been able to get so much as a glass of brandy-and-water—bring one immediately—hot; and let me know what you have got for dinner."
"I really beg your pardon," said old Mr. ——, as soon as he could find words; "I really beg your pardon, but I am quite at a loss——"
"So am I, my good man—for a glass of brandy-and-water—bring that, and another for yourself, and then I shall be happy to hear whatever you have to say."
"But, sir, you must permit me to state——"
"I was never in such a detestable house in my life," exclaimed Hook, starting up; "what do you stand chattering there for, instead of attending to my order: am I to be kept here starving all night? Bring the brandy-and-water, d'ye hear?"
The old gentleman was struck positively speechless; his face purpled, he seemed in imminent peril of choking with the sudden conflux of ire, indignation, and astonishment.
"Why, the fellow's drunk!" pursued Theodore; "disgracefully drunk, at this time of day! and in his own parlour, too! I shall feel it my duty, sir, to lay a statement of this inexcusable conduct before the bench."
Mr. —— sprang to the bell. "John—Thomas—turn this impudent scoundrel out of the house!"
The arrival of the servants necessarily led to an explanation. Nothing could exceed Mr. Hook's regret; what could be done? what apology could be made? He was a perfect stranger to Sunbury; had been directed to the "Flower Pot," as the inn affording the best accommodation; and, on seeing what he imagined to be a gigantic representation of the sign in question at the garden-gate, he had naturally entered, and acted upon that erroneous impression. This was the unkindest cut of all. To find a stranger reclining in full possession of his sofa and slippers was bad enough; to be treated as a dilatory innkeeper was worse; and to be taxed with insolence and intoxication, was still more trying to a gentleman of respectable character and excitable nerves; but to hear the highest achievement of art he possessed—the admiration of himself and friends, and the envy of all Sunbury, his darling vase, compared with which the "Warwick" and the "Barberini" were as common washpots—to hear this likened to an alehouse sign, was a humiliation which dwarfed into insignificance all preceding insults. But as to whether Hook contrived to soothe the anger he had provoked, and to win a way, as was his wont, into the good graces of his victim—or whether this last affront proved irremediable, and he was compelled to seek further entertainment for himself and horse at the "Flower Pot" minor, unfortunately our informant is at fault.