“Certainly—quite necessary. And what written document,” said the commissioner, smiling, “have you to produce in the case of Count Altenberg?”
“Oh! that is another affair,” said Mrs. Falconer, smiling in her turn. “One must not in all cases have recourse to the same expedients. Besides, if we produce our proofs on one occasion, we shall depend upon having our word taken on trust another time; and it would be too much to make a practice of showing gentlemen’s letters: it is not what I should always do—certainly not with regard to a man of Count Altenberg’s rank and pretensions, who merits to be treated with somewhat more consideration, surely, than a man who hazards such a proposal as this. I merely produced it to show you that Georgiana is in no absolute distress for admirers. And now, my dear, I must trouble you—those public singers are terribly expensive; yet at a concert we must have them, and one cannot have them without coming up to their price—I must trouble you to sign this draft, for our concert last week.”
“Now, Mrs. Falconer, I have signed it,” cried the commissioner, “and it is the last, for a similar purpose, I ever will sign—upon my honour.”
“I have invited every body to a concert here next week,” said Mrs. Falconer: “What can I do?”
“Do as others do,” said the commissioner; “let these musical professors give a concert at your house: then, instead of paying them, you share their profits, and you have the best company at your house into the bargain.”
“Such things are done, I know,” said Mrs. Falconer, “and by people of rank; but Lady Jane Granville would not do it, when she was more distressed for money than we are, and I know many say it is what they would not do.”
“It must be done by you, Mrs. Falconer, or you must give up having concerts altogether,” said the commissioner, leaving the room.
To give up concerts was quite impossible, especially as French Clay was, or pretended to be, passionately fond of music, and it was at her musical parties that he never failed to attend assiduously. The next concert was given by a celebrated performer at Mrs. Falconer’s house, and she and the singers shared the profit. To such meanness can the slaves of fashion condescend!
At this concert it happened that there was a new and remarkably handsome, graceful, female Italian singer, who was much admired by all the gentlemen present, and particularly by French Clay, who had set up, with little ear, and less taste, for a great judge of music. He was ambitious of appearing as the patron of this young performer. He went about every where talking of her in raptures, and making interest for her with all the great people of his acquaintance. Her own voice and her own charms needed not the protection of Mr. Clay; from the night she was first produced at Mrs. Falconer’s, she became at once the height of the fashion. Every body was eager to have her at their parties, especially as she had never yet been upon the stage. Admirers crowded round her, and among them were many of rank and fortune: an old earl and a young baronet were of the number. The ardour of competition so much increased the zeal of French Clay, that what was at first only affectation, became real enthusiasm. He was resolved to win the lady from all his rivals. He had frequent opportunities of seeing her at Mrs. Falconer’s, where he appeared always in glory as her patron.
Seraphina, the fair Italian, considering Mrs. Falconer as her first patroness, made it a point of gratitude to hold her concerts frequently at her house. Mrs. Falconer was proud of the distinction. Fresh éclat was thrown upon her and upon her daughters.