Mrs. Falconer was mistaken in this idea. It was not the circumstance of meeting Caroline at a ball that made this impression on Count Altenberg; wherever he had seen her, if he had had opportunity of conversing, and of observing the dignity and simplicity of her manner, the same effect would have been produced—but in fact Mrs. Falconer’s fears, and her daughter’s jealousy, had much magnified the truth. Count Altenberg had not, as they fancied, fallen desperately in love at first sight with Caroline—he had only been pleased and interested sufficiently to make him desirous to see more of her. Caroline, though so much the object of jealousy, had not the slightest idea that she had made a conquest—she simply thought the count’s conversation agreeable, and she was glad that she should see him again at breakfast the next morning.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Mr. and Mrs. Percy accepted of Lord Oldborough’s invitation. They found apartments prepared for them at Clermont-park, and servants ready to attend, with the officious promptitude with which a great man’s domestics usually wait upon those who are supposed to stand high in their master’s favour.
During his illness Lord Oldborough had always breakfasted in his own room; but his lordship appeared at the breakfast-table the morning after the ball, ready to receive his guests. Nothing could be more gracious, more polite, more kind, than his reception of Mr. Percy and his family. From the moment he was introduced to the wife and daughters of his friend, he seemed to throw aside the reserve and coldness of his manner—to forget at once the statesman and the minister, the affairs of Europe and the intrigues of the cabinet—to live entirely for the present moment and the present company. The company consisted of the Percy family, Count Altenberg, and Mr. Temple. It was a common practice with Lord Oldborough to set conversation a-going, then to become silent, and to retire to his own thoughts—he would just throw the ball, and leave others to run for it. But now he condescended at least to join in the pursuit, though apparently without ambition to obtain distinction in the race. After breakfast he showed the ladies into his library; and, as he was himself disabled, requested Mr. Temple to take down such books or prints as he thought most worthy of their attention. Literature had been neglected, perhaps undervalued, by Lord Oldborough, since he had devoted himself to politics; but he could at will recall the classical stores of his youth; and on modern books his quick eye and ear, joined to his strong and rapid judgment, enabled him to decide better than many who make it the only business of their lives to read. Even Mr. Percy, who knew him best, was surprised; and still more surprised was Mr. Temple, who had seen him in varieties of company, some of the highest rank and fashion both in wit and literature, where his lordship had appeared either absent of mind or a silent listener; but he now exerted those powers of conversation which he usually suffered to lie dormant. Instead of waiting in proud expectation that those who were in his company should prove their claims to his attention, he now produced his own intellectual treasures; evidently not for the vanity of display, but to encourage his guests to produce those talents which he seemed to take it for granted that they possessed. It appeared to be his sole object, his pride and pleasure, to pay attention to the wife and daughters of his friend; and to show them and him to advantage to an illustrious foreigner.
“Yes,” said he, apart to Count Altenberg, “I am proud to show you a specimen of a cultivated independent country gentleman and his family.”
With his usual penetration, Lord Oldborough soon discerned the characteristics of each of the ladies of this family—the good sense and good breeding of Mrs. Percy, the wit and generous simplicity of Rosamond, the magnanimity and the superior understanding of Caroline. As instances of these different qualities appeared, his quick and brightening eye marked his approbation, sometimes by a glance at Count Altenberg, by a nod to Mr. Temple, or by a congratulatory smile as he turned to Mr. Percy.
“I now comprehend,” said his lordship, “why Mr. Percy could never be induced to take a part in public business. Ladies, you have done a great injury to your country—you have made this gentleman too happy in domestic life.”
Lord Oldborough spoke this in a tone of raillery, and with a smile—but the smile was succeeded by a deep sigh, and a dark gloom of countenance. At this moment one of his secretaries, Mr. Shaw, came in with papers to be signed. The minister reappeared. Lord Oldborough’s mind turned instantly to business; he withdrew to a table apart, sat down, and began to look over the first paper that was laid before him. Mr. Percy rang the bell, and something was said about not intruding on his lordship’s time—he looked up: “Mr. Temple, you are free. Mr. Shaw shall finish whatever letters it is necessary should be written this morning. You shall have the pleasure of being with your friends. It is a pleasure you deserve, sir, and can appreciate. Mrs. Percy expressed a wish to see the grounds—you will show them to these ladies. I am a prisoner still,” said his lordship, looking down at his gouty hand, “and always shall be a prisoner,” added he, turning his eye upon the papers which Mr. Shaw held.