As in this weary world, people do not live on the word of life alone, Exeter Hall keeps a restaurant. I notice the bill of fare, posted up at the door. This bill of fare fills my soul with sadness and regret. My illusions vanish; I am no longer in paradise. I had expected something in this way:—
Potage alleluia aux flageolets,
Petit Agneau sauce Pénitence,
Haricots bon jeune homme,
Lentilles sauce Esaü,
Crême à la Vertu,
Soufflé aux petits Anges,
Paradise pudding.
But I was doomed to be disappointed.
VIII.
The Boas of the Aristocracy — The prettiest Women in London — Shop girls — Barmaids — Actresses and Supernumeraries — Miss Mary Anderson.
According to the account of Lady John Manners, this is how the ladies of the upper classes in England fare. As this haulte dame should be an authority on the matter, not only will we accept her statements as perfectly correct, but we will also profit by her observations to draw some judicious conclusions.
“In well-appointed sporting country houses,” says Lady John Manners,[3] “before the ladies—indeed, before most of the gentlemen—leave their beds, dainty little services of tea and bread-and-butter are carried to them. Sometimes the younger men prefer brandy and soda. Fortified by these refreshments, the non-sporting guests come to breakfast about ten. Four hot dishes, every sort of cold meats that might fitly furnish forth a feast, fruits, cakes, tea, coffee, cocoa, claret, constitute a satisfactory breakfast, often prolonged till within two hours and a half of luncheon. The important institution of luncheon begins at two. Again, the table is spread with many varieties of flesh and fowl, hot and cold proofs of the cook’s ability, plain puddings for those who study their health, creations in cream for those who have not yet devoted themselves to that never-failing source of interest. Coffee is often served after lunch, which is usually over soon after three. If a shooting party has gone out, Norwegian stoves, crammed with hot dishes of an appetizing character, have been despatched to the scene of action. The ladies gather round the tea-table about five, usually showing much appreciation of any little surprises in the way of muffins, or tea-cakes, provided by a thoughtful hostess. When the shooters come in, some will probably join the ladies, perhaps a few may like a little champagne, but tea and talk tempt the majority. Dinner is served at eight or half-past, and two hours more are then spent at table. After dinner, coffee is brought into the dining-room, while the gentlemen smoke. It is whispered that some of the ladies enjoy a post-prandial cigarette. Liqueurs and tea are offered during the evening, and keep up flagging energies till the ladies ostensibly go to bed, after a little money has changed hands at poker or loo.” The gentlemen then have whisky, brandy, claret, effervescing waters, and lemons brought them, to help them support existence till one or two o’clock in the morning.
[3] National Review, March, 1844.
Such is the ordinary of the aristocracy. Quite a choker this ordinary, is it not?