"Troops of friends,"
as the lodge-keeper could have testified; for he and his buxom wife were continually opening and shutting the great gates. On the Monday after Christmas-day, (i. e. the day but one following,) came cantering up to the Hall Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Delamere, of course staying to luncheon and bearing a most pressing invitation from Lady De la Zouch, zealously backed by themselves, for the Aubreys to join a large party at Fotheringham Castle on New-Year's Eve. This was accepted—a day and a night were thus gone at a swoop. The same thing happened with the Oldfields, their nearest neighbors; with Sir Percival Pickering at Luddington Court, where was a superb new picture-gallery to be critically inspected by Mr. Aubrey—the Earl of Oldacre, a college friend of Mr. Aubrey's—the venerable Lady Stratton, the earliest friend and schoolfellow of old Mrs. Aubrey, and so forth. Then Kate had several visits to pay on her own account; and being fond of horseback, but not of riding about the country with only a groom in attendance, her brother must accompany her on these occasions. The first week of their stay in the country was devoted to visiting their neighbors and friends in the way I have stated; the next was to be spent in receiving them at Yatton, during which time the old Hall was to ring with merry hospitality.
Then there was a little world of other matters to occupy Mr. Aubrey's attention, and which naturally crowded upon him, living so little as he had latterly lived at Yatton. He often had a kind of levee of his humbler neighbors, tenants, and constituents; and on these occasions his real goodness of nature, his simplicity, his patience, his forbearance, his sweetness of temper, his benevolence, shone conspicuous. With all these more endearing qualities, there was yet a placid dignity about him which would have chilled undue familiarity, and repelled presumption—had they ventured to manifest themselves. He had here no motive or occasion for ostentation, or, as it is called, popularity-hunting. In a sense it might be said of him, that he was "monarch of all he surveyed." It is true, he was member for the borough—an honor, however, for which he was indebted to the natural influence of his commanding position—one which left him his own master, not converting him into a paltry delegate, handcuffed by pledges on public questions, and laden with injunctions concerning petty local interests only—liable, moreover, to be called to an account at any moment by ignorant and insolent demagogues—but a member of Parliament training to become a statesman, possessed of a free-will, and therefore capable of independent and enlightened deliberations; placed by his fortune above the reach of temptation—but I shall not go any farther, for the portraiture of a member of Parliament of those days suggests such a humiliating and bitter contrast, that I shall not ruffle either my own or my reader's temper by sketching one of modern days. On the occasions I have been alluding to, Mr. Aubrey was not only condescending and generous, but practically acute and discriminating; qualities of his, these latter, so well known, however, as to leave him at length scarce any opportunities of exercising them. His quiet but decisive interference put an end to many local unpleasantnesses and annoyances, and caused his increasing absence from Yatton to be very deeply regretted. Was a lad or a wench taking to idle and dissolute courses? A kind, or, as the occasion required, a stern expostulation of his—for he was a justice of the peace moreover—brought them to their senses. He had a very happy knack of reasoning and laughing quarrelsome neighbors into reconciliation and good-humor. He had a keen eye after the practical details of agriculture; was equally quick at detecting an inconvenience, and appreciating—sometimes even suggesting—a remedy; and had, on several occasions, brought such knowledge to bear very effectively upon discussions in Parliament. His constituents, few in number undoubtedly, and humble, were quite satisfied with, and proud of, their member; and his unexpected appearance diffused among them real and general satisfaction. As a landlord, he was beloved by his numerous tenantry; and well he might—for never was there so easy and liberal a landlord: he might at any time have increased his rental by £1,500 or £2,000 a-year, as his steward frequently intimated to him—but in vain. "Ten thousand a-year," would say Mr. Aubrey, "is far more than my necessities require—it affords me and my family every luxury that I can conceive of; and its magnitude reminds me constantly that hereafter I shall be called upon to give a very strict and solemn account of my stewardship." I would my space could admit of my completing, as it ought to be completed, this portraiture of a true Christian gentleman!
As he rode up to the Hare and Hounds Inn, at Grilston, one morning, to transact some little business, and also to look in on the Farmers' Club, which was then holding one of its fortnightly meetings, (every one touching his hat and bowing to him on each side of the long street, as he slowly passed up it,) he perceived that his horse limped on one foot. On dismounting, therefore, he stopped to see what was the matter, while his groom took up the foot to examine it.
"Dey-vilish fine horse!" exclaimed the voice of one standing close beside him, and in a tone of most disagreeable confidence. The exclamation was addressed to Mr. Aubrey; who, on turning to the speaker, beheld a young man—('twas, in fact, Titmouse)—dressed in a style of the most extravagant absurdity. One hand was stuck into the hinder pocket of a stylish top-coat, (the everlasting tip of a white pocket-handkerchief glistening at the mouth of his breast-pocket;) the other held a cigar to his mouth, from which, as he addressed Mr. Aubrey with an air of signal assurance, he slowly expelled the smoke which he had inhaled. Mr. Aubrey turned towards him with a cold and surprised air, without replying; at the same time wondering where he had seen the ridiculous object before.
"The horses in these parts ar'n't to be compared with them at London—eh, sir?" quoth Titmouse, approaching closer to Mr. Aubrey and his groom, to see what the latter was doing—who, on hearing Titmouse's last sally, gave him a very significant look.
"I'm afraid the people here won't relish your remarks, sir!" replied Mr. Aubrey, calmly—hardly able to forbear a smile; at the same time, with an astonished air, scanning the figure of his companion from head to foot.
"Who cares?" inquired Titmouse, with a very energetic oath. At this moment up came a farmer, who, observing Mr. Aubrey, made him a very low bow. Mr. Aubrey's attention being at the moment occupied with Titmouse, he did not observe the salutation; not so with Titmouse, who, conceiving it to have been directed to himself, acknowledged it by taking off his hat with great grace! Mr. Aubrey presently entered the house, having ordered his groom to bring back the horse in an hour's time.
"Pray," said he, mildly, to the landlady, "who is that person smoking the cigar outside?"
"Why, sir," she replied, "he's a Mr. Brown; and has another with him here—who's going up to London by this afternoon's coach—this one stays behind a day or two longer. They're queer people, sir. Such dandies! Do nothing but smoke, and drink brandy and water, sir; only that t' other writes a good deal."