The French nobles, however, felt their ardour damped to an extraordinary degree, and replied by a series of the most respectful salaams.
"Profound veneration," "deepest reverence," and other expressions of the same kind, were muttered by each of the visiters; and in a short time they succeeded, in spite of Miss Lucretia's reiterated invitations, in bowing themselves out of the room. They were accompanied by the marquis to their carriages, while Miss Smith was gazing after them, astonished, more than pleased, at the wonderful politeness of their manner. Louise slipt out of the bed-room, and slapt her astonished aunt upon the shoulder—
"You've done it, aunt!—you've done it now! A word from you recalls these foreigners to their senses."
"It gives me a high opinion," replied Miss Smith, "of them French. They stand in perfect awe of dignity and virtue."
CHAPTER V.
Great were the discussions, all that day, among the English party in the hotel—the father concealing his disappointment at the behaviour of his fellow nobles, under an exaggerated admiration of rank, and all its attributes; Louise professing to chime in with her father's ideas, for the pleasant purpose of vexing Cecil Hope; Mr Cocker still persuading himself the Frenchmanship of his old master was a little bit of acting that would end as soon as the curtain fell; and Miss Lucretia devising means of making up for her failures with so many curates, by catching a veritable duke. With the next morning new occupations began. The marquis, dressed in the fantastic apparel of a French courtier, exchanged compliments with his daughter, who was also magnificently attired, to do honour to the occasion. Mr Hope tried in vain to get her to sink from the lofty style she assumed, and had strong thoughts of setting off for Hertfordshire, and marrying a farmer's daughter out of revenge. The father was so carried away by family pride, and the daughter enjoyed the change in her rank so heartily, that there seemed no room in the heart of either for so prosaic a being as a plain English squire. And yet, every now and then, there gleamed from the corner of Louise's eye, or stole out in a merry tone of her voice, the old familiar feeling, so that he could not altogether give way to despair, but waited in patience what the chapter of accidents might bring. At one o'clock the marquis set off for the town-hall, where he was to go through the ceremony of reclaiming his father's sword, and have the blot on the scutcheon formally removed; after which he was to entertain the town authorities, and the neighbouring nobility, at dinner; the evening to conclude with a ball, in the preparation for which the ladies were to be left at home. Mr Hope accompanied him to the door of the town-hall,—but there he professed to find his feelings overpowered, and declined to witness the ceremony that, he said, broke the connexion which had existed so long between the names of Hope and Bullion; but, ere he could return to the hotel, several things had occurred that had a material influence on his prospects, and these we must now proceed to relate. Miss Lucretia Smith continued her oratory in the ears of her devoted niece after the gentlemen had gone, the burden thereof consisting, principally, in a comparison between the nobles of France and the shopocracy of London,—till that young lady betook herself to the bedroom window already mentioned, to watch for Cecil's return. She had not been long at her watch-post, when a carriage, with the blinds drawn up, and escorted by seven or eight armed men, with masks on their faces, pulled up at the door. Of this she took no particular notice, but kept looking attentively down the street. But, a minute or two after the closed carriage drove under the porte cochère, a young gentleman was ushered into the presence of Miss Smith, and was, by that young lady, received with the highest empressement possible. She had only had time to improve her toilette by putting on Louise's shawl and bonnet, which happened to be lying on a chair; and, in spite of the shortness of the view she had had of him the day before, she immediately recognised him as one of her brother's visiters, the Baron Beauvilliers.
"Permit me, madam," he said, in very good English, "to apologise for my intrusion, but I have the authority of my friend De Bouillon to consider myself here at home."
"Oh, sir, you are certainly the politest nation on the face of the earth, you French—that I must say; but I may trust, I hope, to the honour of a gent like you? You won't be rude to an unoffended female? for there ain't a soul in the 'ouse that could give me the least assistance."
The baron bowed in a very assuring manner, and, taking a seat beside her, "May I make bold, madam, to ask who the tawdry silly-looking young person is who resides under De Bouillon's protection?"
"Sir—under Mr Bull—I mean, under the marquee's protection? I don't understand you."