“You would not be so incredulous, Mr. Falconer, if you had seen the rapture with which the count listens to Georgiana when she plays on the harp. He is prodigiously fond of music.”
“And of painting too,” said the commissioner; “for, by your account of the matter, he seemed to have been more than half in love also with a picture this morning.”
“A picture is no very dangerous rival, except in a modern novel,” replied Mrs. Falconer. “But beware, commissioner—and remember, I understand these things—I warn you in time—beware of the original of that picture, and never again talk to me of going to see those Percys; for though the girl may be only an unfashioned country beauty, and Georgiana has so many polished advantages, yet there is no knowing what whim a young man might take into his head.”
The commissioner, though he remained completely of his own opinion, that Mrs. Falconer’s scheme for Georgiana would never do, disputed the point no farther, but left the room, promising all she required, for promises cost him nothing. To do him justice, he recollected and endeavoured to the best of his power to keep his word; for the next morning he took his time so well to propose a ride to the Hills, just at the moment when Lord Oldborough and the count were deep in a conversation on the state of continental politics, that his lordship would not part with him. The commissioner paid his visit alone, and Mrs. Falconer gave him credit for his address; but scarcely had she congratulated herself, when she was thrown again into terror—the commissioner had suggested to Lord Oldborough the propriety and policy of giving, whilst he was in the country, a popularity ball! His lordship assented, and Mrs. Falconer, as usual, was to take the trouble off his hands, and to give an entertainment, to his lordship’s friends. Lord Oldborough had not yet recovered from the gout, and he was glad to accept of her offer: his lordship not being able to appear, or to do the honours of the fête, was a sufficient apology for his not giving it at Clermont-park.
The obsequious commissioner begged to have a list of any friends whom Lord Oldborough particularly wished to have invited; but his lordship, with a look of absence, replied, that he left all that entirely to Mrs. Falconer; however, the very evening of the day on which the commissioner paid his visit alone at the Hills, Lord Oldborough put into his hands a list of the friends whom he wished should be invited to the ball, and at the head of his list were the Percys.
“The Percys! the very people I first thought of!” said Mr. Falconer, commanding his countenance carefully: “but I fear we cannot hope to have them, they are at such a distance, and they have no carriage.”
“Any of my carriages, all of them, shall be at their command,” said Lord Oldborough.
The commissioner reported this to Mrs. Falconer, observing that he had gone to the very brink of offending Lord Oldborough to oblige her, as he knew by his lordship’s look and tone of voice; and that nothing now could be done, but to visit the Percys, and as soon as possible, and to send them a card of invitation for the ball.
“And, my dear, whatever you do, I am sure will be done with a good grace,” added the commissioner, observing that his lady looked excessively discomfited.
“Very well, commissioner; you will have your daughter upon your hands, that’s all.”