“So should I, I confess,” said Lady Jane, smiling.
“The best or the worst of it is,” continued Lady Frances, “that, after all, this baron bold is, I’ve a notion, no better than an adventurer: for I heard a little bird sing, that a certain ambassador hinted confidentially, that the Baron de Wilhelmberg would find it difficult to prove his sixteen quarterings. But now, upon both your honours, promise me you’ll never mention this—never give the least confidential hint of it to man, woman, or child; because it might get round, spoil our sport, and never might I have the dear delight of drawing the caricature.”
“Now your ladyship is not serious, I am sure,” said Caroline.
“Never more serious—never so serious in my life; and, I assure you,” cried Lady Frances, speaking very earnestly and anxiously, “if you give the least hint, I will never forgive you while I live; for I have set my heart on doing the caricature.”
“Impossible that, for the mere pleasure of drawing a caricature, you would let your own cousin expose herself with an adventurer!” said Caroline.
“La! Lady Angelica is only my cousin a hundred removes. I can’t help her being ridiculous: every body, I dare say, has ridiculous cousins—and laugh one must. If one were forbidden to laugh at one’s relatives, it would be sad indeed for those who have extensive connexions. Well, Lady Jane, I am glad to see that you don’t pique yourself on being too good to laugh: so I may depend on you. Our party for Lady Angelica’s is fixed for Monday.”
No—Lady Jane had, it is certain, some curiosity and some desire to laugh at her neighbour’s expense. So far, Lady Frances had, with address, touched her foible for her purpose; but Lady Jane’s affection for Caroline strengthened her against the temptation. She was persuaded that it would be a disadvantage to her to go to this conversazione. She would not upon any account have Miss Percy be seen in the blue-stocking set at present—she had her reasons. To this resolution her ladyship adhered, though Lady Frances Arlington, pertinacious to accomplish any purpose she took into her fancy, returned morning after morning to the charge. Sometimes she would come with intelligence from her fetcher and carrier of news, as she called him, Captain Nuttall.
One day, with a very dejected countenance, her ladyship came in saying, “It’s off—it’s all off! Nuttall thinks it will never be a match.”
The next day, in high spirits, she brought word, “It’s on—it’s on again! Nuttall thinks it will certainly be a match—and Angelica is more delightfully ridiculous than ever! Now, my dear Lady Jane, Tuesday?—next week?—the week afterwards? In short, my dearest Lady Jane, once for all, will you ever take me to her conversazione?”
“Never, my dear Lady Frances, till Miss Caroline Percy is married,” said Lady Jane: “I have my own reasons.”