Unfortunately, however, the harmless foibles of Sir Lumley were combined with an unbounded extravagance which finally involved the luckless dandy in a ruin as complete as it was pathetic. He disappeared from fashionable life to undergo a dreary imprisonment, and when he at last issued thence, the world which had showered blandishments upon him in his prosperity, would have no more of him. In vain did he dress exquisitely, enunciate witticisms and assume a gaiety of manner which he was far from feeling. The friends who had courted his society before his downfall now shunned his acquaintance, and a bon-mot uttered at his expense elicited the applause which his most happily-conceived jests failed to evoke. On some stranger pointing out Skeffington to Lord Alvanley, and inquiring who was that smart-looking individual, Alvanley responded with a wit more keen than kind—"It is a second edition of 'The Sleeping Beauty,' bound in calf, richly gilt and illustrated by many cuts."
For long did the luckless beau continue, with a pathetic persistence, to haunt the scenes of his former triumph. At theatres, at picture auctions, in the Park, and in all fashionable thoroughfares, he was a familiar sight, still with the passing of years the butt of the contemporaries who had once fawned upon him, and, as they gradually diminished, the standard jest of a younger generation. With the flight of Time, the blackness of his false ringlets never varied, the brilliant rouge of his cheeks, or the strange costume which he had worn during the heyday of his existence, and to which he clung after it had been obsolete for half a century. And with each year his slim figure became yet thinner, his back more bent, and his spindle legs more bowed, till at length the man who had been born early in the reign of George III. witnessed the dawning of the year 1850; after which the quaint figure of the once-famous Sir Lumley Skeffington was seen no more.
[Illustration: MADAME CATALANI From an engraving by Carten in the collection of Mr A. M. Broadley.]
But of the fate which the future held for their guest, the Stanhopes can little have dreamed when Sir Lumley dined with them a few months after the production of his play and at the moment when his society was courted by all his acquaintances. The little dinner party composed of so many brilliant conversationalists was enjoyed by all present; the reaction which it represented to the host and hostess after the comparatively quiet week in Yorkshire was much appreciated by them; and two nights after the entry respecting it, Mrs Stanhope records further gaieties:—
Marianne went to the Opera last night with the charming Miss Glyn. It was thin & they were in their old box for the first time this season, & that is so high up, no one found them out, but she saw Frank Primrose [11] at a distance. The Opera is new done up and beautiful. Catalani [12] is very good in the Comic Opera, & there is a new dancer who is a scholar of Parisides, and dances delightfully. Kelly's room [13] is no longer open, therefore, the only ways out are the great and chair doors. However, one good has arisen—the large room has become the fashion.
London is thin, & the only party I have heard of is one at Mrs Knox's
on the birthnight.
Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope. February 8th, 1807.
Yesterday, we dined at Sir Richard Glyn's…. Poor Dickey! he was more forlorn than ever. I never did see such a little wooden puppet. He speechified just in the way you used to say he did at Christ Church to all the ladies in rotation. His chief business is getting chairs for the company. I think the old description of a husband would very well apply to him…. "It is a thing that sits at the bottom of the table & likes legs better than wings of Chicken."
The Duke of Norfolk, Papa has heard, just after accepting the Lord Lieutenancy of Surrey, at the Whig Club gave his old toasts—"The Sovereignty of the People." We have seen the youngest Prince of Holstein [14] & the tutor, as agreeable as usual. They heard of you at Inverary, the bad news arrived while they were in Ireland, they immediately set off for London, expecting to be ordered back to Holstein; on the contrary, they found a letter recommending them to stay quietly here. Papa means to give them a dinner. He dined the other day at his College Club himself & Lord Moira who has promised to meet the Princes here.
Papa is highly delighted with Mr Wilberforce's letter on the Slave Trade; Ld. Grenville's speech on that subject, he says, was the finest thing he ever heard.