But she had her revenge! Her husband was the first to speak, as he was called upon by a rap to say grace, and she found herself on Lord L——’s right hand. In order to show why she was there, I must explain that the royal chairs were placed in the centre of the long table, not at each end, and that their Excellencies and our hosts occupied the middle of the room. In a few minutes I had time to notice that their own footmen stood behind the regal party, but that the rest of us were served by the duke’s servants.
What a sight was that whole party! Every earl wore his star, and every countess her coronet. Jewels galore glittered everywhere. All the same, the most striking-looking man there was the curate, in his plain black dress, with his beautiful face just as usual—calm and radiant and spirituelle.
I do not think that dinner was quite a success, though a chef had been engaged to cook it and two others at a fee of £100. The game was burned, and the ice-puddings were in lumps. There were long pauses between the rêlêves, and an ominous wait before all the twelve courses were handed round. I was so much taken up with the scene that I frequently laid down my knife and fork, even before I had tasted the morsels set before me, and found everything whisked away in a second.
Nearly two hours that dinner occupied. Then, from behind a palm, our hostess nodded to the other end of the table, and his Excellency stood up. For this moment I had waited in fear and trembling. I knew we had to make the tour of that long table, then back out of the room, for royalty must never see behind the scenes.
I had practised a sweeping curtsey before the pier-glass at home. I had gracefully backed from before it over and over again, but when my turn came I grew the colour of my copper roses, and nearly tumbled over my train.
Nobody seemed to notice, however, not even James Giles, the major-domo, so I was fairly cool by the time the duchess took me by the arm to introduce me to her Excellency.
“It is as good as a presentation at Court, my dear,” she whispered, “and will give you the entrée.”
I had often rehearsed this scene, and in imagination had seen Lady L—— standing up stately, and receiving the curate’s wife very frigidly. Behold the contrary.
Seated on a stool before the blazing fire, with all her lovely dress crumpled up under her, Lady L—— was “roasting her bones,” as she said. She jumped up like a girl when the duchess led me towards her; and I really think she admired the yellow brocade.
“I hope I shall soon see you at Court,” she said pleasantly, as I kissed her hand. “And your husband too. The brave stand made by the Church of —— in all her difficulties makes us value every one of her clergy and their wives, even if they are bits of girls like yourself.”