How different this table from many others! where genteel sprightly conversations are shut out; where such as cannot feast their senses on the genius of a cook, must rise unsatisfied.
A similitude of manners between your Ladyship and Lady Powis, particularly in doing the honours of the table, struck me so much, that I once or twice call'd her Lady Mary.—Pray, Miss Warley, ask'd she, who is this Lady Mary?
What could occasion her confusion!—what could occasion the confusion of Sir James!—Never did I see any thing equal it, when I said it was Lady Mary Sutton!—The significant looks that were interchang'd, spoke some mystery;—a mystery it would be presumption in me to dive after. Her Ladyship made no reply,—Sir James was eager to vary the subject,—and the conversation became general.
Though autumn is far advanc'd, every thing here wears the face of spring.—The afternoon being remarkably fine Lady Powis, Lord Darcey, and myself, strolled out amongst the sweets.—We walk'd a considerable time; his Lordship was all gaiety, talk'd with raptures of the improvements; declar'd every thing he had seen abroad fell short of this delightful spot; and now, my dear Lady Powis, added he, with an air of gallantry, I can see nothing wanting.
Nothing wanting! return'd her Ladyship, sighing:—Ah! my Lord, you are not a parent!—you feel nothing of a parent's woe!—you do not hourly regret the absence of a beloved and only son! Don't look serious, my dear Lord, seeing him somewhat abash'd, you have hitherto tenderly loved me.—Perhaps I had a mind to augment your affection, by bringing to your recollection I was not happy.—His Lordship made no reply, but, taking her hand, lifted it respectfully to his lips.
Mr. Jenkings is this moment coming up the lawn. I see him from window;—excuse me, my dear Lady, whilst I step to ask him how he does.
I have been accounting to Mr. Jenkings for not coming home last night. Good man! every mark of favour I receive, enlightens his countenance.—The reasons I have given him, I shall now proceed to give your Ladyship.
I said we were walking;—I have said the conversation was interesting;—but I have not said it was interrupted by Sir James and Mr. Watson, who join'd us just as Lord Darcey had quitted the hand of Lady Powis.—A visit was propos'd to the Dairy-house, which is about a mile from the Abbey.—In our way thither, I was full of curiosity, full of inquiries about the neighbourhood, and whose seats such and such were, that enrich'd adjacent hills?—The neighbourhood, reply'd her Ladyship, is in general polite and hospitable.—Yes, said Sir James, and more smart young men, Miss Warley, than are to be met with in every county.—Yonder, continued he, live Mr. and Mrs. Finch,—very rich,—very prudent, and very worthy;—they have one son, a discreet lad, who seems to promise he will inherit their good qualities.
That which you see so surrounded with woods, is Sir Thomas Slater's, a batchelor of fifty-five; and, let me tell you, fair Lady, the pursuit of every girl in the neighbourhood;—his estate a clear nine thousand a-year, and—Hold, hold, interrupted Lord Darcey, in compassion to us young fellows, say no more of this redoubtable batchelor.
Well then, continued Sir James, since my Lord will have it so,—let me draw your eye, Miss Warley, from Sir Thomas Slater's, and fix it on Lord Allen's: Observe the situation!—Nothing can be more beautiful, the mind of its owner excepted.