By this time they had gained the principal avenue leading towards the orchestra, and at each step he took, Mr. Cripps kissed his hand to some elegantly dressed person.
‘There’s my friend Lord Effingham, and his countess,’ he said; ‘glad to see you, my lord. That’s the pretty Mrs. Rackham—a bride, sweetheart, a bride,’ with tender emphasis—‘that’s the rich Mrs. Draper—I daren’t look at her, for she’s determined to have me, whether I will or no, and I can’t make up my mind to it, though she’s promised to settle sixty thousand pounds upon me, and to die in six months.’
‘La! Mr. Willars, you wouldn’t sell yourself to such an ojus creature as that!’ cried Mrs. Nettleship—‘why, she’s a perfect fright, and so dressed!’
‘Precisely what you describe her, ‘pon rep!’ replied Mr. Cripps. ‘But do listen to the music. Isn’t it inspiring?’ And they paused for a moment to listen to the lively strains proceeding from the orchestra, which was placed at one end of a large building facing the principal walk. By this time the company had almost entirely assembled. The main walk was completely thronged, and presented the appearance of the Mall at high tide, while all the boxes and alcoves were filled with persons discussing bowls of punch, plates of ham, chickens, salads, and other good things. The band in the orchestra was excellent, and the lively airs and symphonies added to the excitement and spirit of the scene. Mr. Cripps created a great sensation. Many persons thought they had seen him before, but no one could tell who he was. Meanwhile, the object of this attention continued to dispense his bows and smiles, flourished his clouded cane, tapped his magnificent snuff-box, and after astonishing all the beholders with his coxcombry, glided off with his companion into one of the side walks. He had scarcely disappeared, when Lady Brabazon and her party entered the main walk. Her ladyship led her little spaniel by its string, and was attended on one side by the beau, and on the other by Trussell. Behind them walked Clementina, who had contrived to allure Randulph from her mother, and to attach him to her, while on the young man’s left walked Sir Singleton Spinke. Everybody whom Mr. Villiers encountered told him of the prodigious beau who had just been seen on the walk—Lord Effingham, Major Burrowes, Lord Dyneover, Sir John Fagg—all described him.
‘Who the devil is he?’ cried Villiers.
‘Haven’t the least idea,’ replied Sir John Fagg. ‘But I’ll speak to him, if I meet him again. He’s your very double, Villiers. I’ll swear he has employed Desmartins to make him a suit precisely like your own.’
‘Has he?’ cried the beau indignantly—‘Then I’ll never employ a rascally Frenchman again! and what is more, I won’t pay him his bill.’ The same thing was told him by twenty other persons, and the beau looked anxiously round for his personator, but was for some time unable to discern him.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps had sought this secluded walk to give him an opportunity of making a declaration to the widow, and though he was not positively accepted he was not decidedly refused,—the lady only asking time to consider over the proposal. The audacious valet was on his knees, and rapturously kissing her hand, vowing he would never rise till he received a favourable answer to his suit, when two persons were seen approaching, whom, to his infinite mortification and surprise, he recognised as Abel Beechcroft and his uncle, Mr. Jukes.
‘We are interrupted, my charmer!’ he cried, getting up, with a countenance of angry dismay. ‘Let us return to the public promenade. You won’t refuse me? I shall kill myself, ‘pon rep, if you do.’
‘I’ll think of it, Mr. Willars,’ said Mrs. Nettleship, twirling her fan. ‘But it would be a dreadful thing if I was to break my engagement to Mr. Rathbone!’