Just then Julia had no opportunity of making answer to it, for the noble host, whose guests they were, was so condescending as to chat with her; and continued chatting such a long time, that the Count appeared to be getting jealous of him! As if observing this, his lordship withdrew, to extend a like courtesy to the twenty other beautiful young damsels who graced the reception,—leaving the Girdwood group to their own and their Count’s guidance for the remainder of the evening.
Receptions do not last more than a couple of hours, beginning at ten and breaking up about twelve, with light refreshments of the “kettle-drum” kind, that serve, very unsatisfactorily, for supper.
In consequence, the Count de Valmy (for such was Mr Swinton’s title) invited the ladies to a petit souper of a more substantial kind, at one of the snug refectories to be found a little farther along Piccadilly. There, being joined by the other count—met by them at Mr Swinton’s dinner-table, and who on this occasion was unaccompanied by his countess—they passed a pleasant hour or two, as is usually the case at a petit souper.
Even the gentle Cornelia enjoyed herself though not through the company of the two counts. She had met a gentleman at the reception—a man old enough to have been her father—but one of those noble natures with which the heart of a young confiding girl readily sympathises. They had chatted together. He had said some words to her, that made her forget the disparity of years, and wish for more of his conversation. She had given consent to his calling on her, and the thought of this hindered her from feeling forsaken, even when the Count de Valmy confined his attention to her cousin, and the married count made himself amiable to her aunt!
The Champagne and Moselle were both of best quality; and Mrs Girdwood was induced to partake of both freely, as was also her daughter.
The two counts were agreeable companions—but more especially he who had so long passed as Mr Swinton, and who was no longer careful about keeping up his incognito.
It ended in Mrs Girdwood’s heart warming towards him with the affection of a mother; while Julia’s became almost softened to that other affection which promised to bestow upon her the title of “Countess.”
“What could be better, or prettier?” thought she, repeating the words of her willing mother. A stylish countess, with a handsome count for husband—dresses and diamonds, carriages and cash, to make the title illustrious!
Of the last the count himself appeared to have plenty; but whether or no, her mother had given promise that it should not be wanting.
And what a grand life it would be to give receptions herself—not only in great London, but in the Fifth Avenue, New York!