He more judiciously confined his endeavours to furnishing her with ideas and examples, leaving it to her unbiassed judgment to choose amongst them, and make what she pleased her own. He now wished to give her the advantage of associating, as much as possible, with Adelaide, noticing her perfections but generally, and trusting to Melicent's discernment to analyse each particular charm, unaided, save by the happy benevolence of disposition, which would make such an exercise of her faculties the first of all pleasures. He had accordingly lost no time in making his brother call on the strangers, for the purpose of inviting them to Bogberry Hall. It was settled, in this visit, that the party from Ballinamoyle should dine at Mr. Desmond's house early in the ensuing week, where they should remain till the following day, as the distance was too great to permit of returning at night.
Mr. O'Sullivan prevailed on the Desmonds to join his family circle at dinner; and when they prepared to return home in the evening, Colonel Desmond said to Adelaide, in a low voice, "I hope Melicent has not shocked you by her brogue; I find it most difficult to cure." "Oh, don't try to alter her accent, (replied she) she speaks the prettiest Irish! Any thing that would make her less original, would take from her charms: she is one of the most captivating creatures I ever saw." His only answer was a parting pressure of her hand, which conveyed his thanks for her admiration of his niece, and meant more than he yet ventured to express in words. "How different she is from Melicent, (thought he), yet how charming!"
A lover and an uncle could not be supposed to be expert at definition, otherwise he might have said, that the one amused the fancy, whilst the other touched the heart.
CHAPTER V.
Be my plan,
To live as merry as I can,
Regardless how the fashions go,
Whether there's reason for't, or no.
Be my employment here on earth,
To give a lib'ral scope to mirth.
Churchill.
Bogberry Hall was the abode of mirth and glee: there was nothing but rattling, and ranting, and singing, and dancing, from morning till night. The family living in it, consisted of nine happy children, with an indulgent, tender mother, remarkable for nothing, except her good nature, and careful attention to their wants and pleasures. This house was never without company staying in it, principally relations; for the Desmonds had first, second, and third cousins innumerable. The actual income of the family was not large, in proportion to their numbers; but the advantage of situation supplied them with almost every thing they consumed at a low rate; and many rents, that a non-resident would have found it impossible to get, were compounded for, partly in kind, partly in labour. When any body condoled with Mr. Desmond on his large family, he used to say, "The more the merrier; there never was a child sent into the world, that it did not bring its portion with it; I wish I had thirty of them." Calming his mind with this idea, he determined to make them, as long as he was alive, as merry as possible; for, in his vocabulary, merriment and happiness were synonymous. A very necessary part of his establishment, for this purpose, were two fiddlers and a piper. One of the former was then absent on rather a singular errand.—Miss Sophy Desmond had been put to school at Galway, and he was sent to board in the same house, that he might play for her to dance every evening, and "keep her from thinking long after home." The cause of Sophy's being sent to school was as singular as her strange accompaniment. One of Melicent's favourite pastimes the year before had been to get up on the horses that carried fish, poultry, or eggs, in a sort of open panniers called creels, to her father's house for sale; and whilst her mother was giving a dram, or buying chickens three to the couple, away she went "o'er moor and mountain," amusing herself with the alarm she should cause, and the hunt there would be after her. One day a horse was brought to Bogberry Hall, carrying two wooden churns, one containing eggs, the other buttermilk. Melicent scrambled up the side, and seating herself between them, off she set; but while she was galloping along much to her satisfaction, in making a leap over a pit in the bog before her father's gate, the covers of the churns came off, and she was soused with the milk on one side, and pelted with the eggs on the other. The horse took fright, and carried her in this condition miles round the country, without hat or cloak. She was at last met by some gentlemen, who brought her home, her clothes dripping wet, and her face and hair stiff with the contents of the egg shells. The conclusion her friends drew from this adventure was, that as Melicent was quite spoiled, Sophy must be sent to school directly. Miss Desmond's coadjutor in all such pranks (which however she had much intermitted since the above-mentioned unlucky day) was her brother Launcelot, an arch boy, one year younger than herself, who, to plague his cousin "Dilly," as he called Mr. Donolan, now pretended to be yet more unpolished than he really was. These two were standing in the window of their mother's drawing-room, on the day on which she expected the party from Ballinamoyle to dinner, when they espied Mrs. O'Sullivan's gaudy equipage at some distance. "There, Melicent," said Launcelot, "there comes Tidy-ideldy and Big bow bow," as he had christened the two Miss Webberlys. "I declare, Lanty," replied his sister, "when I saw that ugly Miss Webberly at dinner the other day, with half a rose tree on her head, I could scarcely keep from saying to you, that she was 'the devil in a bush.'" "Oh fie, Melicent!" said Colonel Desmond, with an ill-suppressed smile, "such a great girl as you ought not to encourage that rude boy; it would be much more becoming for you to think of receiving your guests with politeness, than to employ yourself in finding names for them." "Don't be angry, uncle dear," said Melicent, coaxingly, "and I'll call her London Pride; and that dear beautiful Miss Wildenheim is Venus's looking-glass:—you have no objection to be Flos Adonis, uncle, I'm sure. Oh! I wish I was like her, and then you'd be quite pleas'd with me." "My dearest Melicent," said he, fondly, "I don't wish you to be like any body but yourself; only control your spirits to-day, that's a good girl."
In another window Mr. Donolan was expatiating on the merits of frogs stewed in red champaigne, as he had eat them at the Café de mille Colonnes; whilst his auditor, Mr. Desmond, was assiduously drawing up his mouth into a whistle, his usual preventive of mal à propos laughter. His lady was preparing to receive her guests on their entrance, which she did with much kindness, and with the ease of a person well accustomed to the office. The ladies from Ballinamoyle were escorted only by Captain Cormac, as Mr. Webberly had unfortunately sprained his ancle that morning too severely to admit of his moving off a couch, and his host remained at home in order to show him proper attention, and Father Dermoody never formed one of so large a party.