“Thank you, sir. It is my first visit. If I could indulge my inclination I believe I should stay here for ever.”
“That is famous!” he said jovially. “That is how I feel, I can tell you, Miss Taverner. It is many years since I first came to Brighton—we called it Brighthelmstone in those days, you know—but you see what a hold it took on my fancy! I was constrained to build myself a little summer palace here, and I give you my word that whenever I can I come down to live in it.”
“And I am sure it is no wonder, sir!” said Mrs. Scattergood, to whom this speech was partially addressed. “I have frequently been describing to Miss Taverner the beauty and elegance of the Pavilion. Nothing could ever equal it!”
He smiled, and seemed pleased, though he deprecated her praise with a protesting movement of his hand. “I believe it to be a little out of the common,” he acknowledged. “I do not wish to say that it is by any means perfect, but it suits me, and has been admired by those whose taste and judgment I depend upon. Miss Taverner will be interested, I daresay, in some of the examples of Chinese art she will find here. The light immediately above us, for instance, ma’am,” he continued, pointing upwards to a horizontal skylight of stained glass set in the middle of the ceiling, “represents Lin-Shin, the god of thunder, surrounded, as you see, by drums, and flying.”
Miss Taverner looked, and admired; he invited her cordially to inspect whatever she had a mind to, and seemed as though he would have volunteered to guide her round the gallery himself, had he not been obliged to turn away from her to receive another guest who had just been announced.
Mrs. Scattergood and Miss Taverner withdrew to where an acquaintance of the former was standing, and while the two elder ladies stood chatting together Miss Taverner had leisure to look about her and to be astonished.
Her view of the exterior of the Pavilion had led her to expect the interior to be of more than ordinary splendour, but she had not been prepared for what met her gaze. The gallery in which she stood was of immense length, and partially separated into five unequal divisions by a trellis-work of what looked to be bamboo, but which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be painted iron. The central division was surrounded by a Chinese canopy of similar trellis-work, hung with bells. Above, a coved ceiling projected through the upper floor, and had set in it the light towards which the Regent had directed her notice. A chimney-piece in brass and iron, worked in further imitation of bamboo, was placed directly facing the middle entrance, and on either side of it two niches, lined with yellow marble, contained cabinets. There seemed, as far as Miss Taverner could see, to be corresponding niches in the other divisions, as well as two recesses with a porcelain pagoda in each. Stained glass lanterns hung from the angles of the ceiling, and in addition to these a soft light was thrown by branches concealed in the glass tulips and lotus-flowers which adorned the three mantelpieces in the gallery. The extreme compartments were occupied by two staircases, also made in imitation of bamboo, and two doors, which, being fronted with looking-glass, made the perspective of the gallery seem interminable. The walls were battened and covered with canvas painted with peach-blossom as a ground-colour, on which rocks, trees, shrubs, birds, and flowers were pencilled in pale blue. All the couches and chairs were of ivory figured with black, and the daylight was admitted only through the lights in the several coved roofs, and through the stained-glass window above one of the staircases. The corresponding window over the other staircase was merely imitative.
While she was looking about her, and wondering at what she saw, a footman had come up with a tray of refreshments; she took a cup of coffee from it, and turned to find Mr. Brummell at her elbow, dressed in the plainest of black coats and knee-breeches, and looking singularly out of place in the midst of such splendid surroundings. “Spellbound, Miss Taverner?” he inquired.
“Mr. Brummell! I did not know you were in Brighton! Yes, indeed: it is all very—very beautiful—quite extraordinary!” She saw the faint, incredulous smile he used to check applause, and gave a relieved sigh. “You do not like it either!” she said.
“I thought you had decided it was all very beautiful?”