Penelope saw by the nearest mirror that the aspect of her attire was dark indeed, but dark as it was it could not express the mourning which she felt for her great loss. She was by no means in a proper frame of mind for the enjoyment of society, or at all fit for anything that wore the aspect of festivity. She suffered herself to be led into the music-room by the Countess, and she made a most respectful curtesy to the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead, when she had the honor of being introduced to a personage of such elevated rank. But still Penelope could not help thinking that fashionable manners were not agreeable: for she recollected that her late uncle used to define politeness as being that kind of behaviour which was least calculated to give pain to others; and yet Penelope felt more pain from the behaviour of the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead, and that of some of the whiskered boys in Lady Smatterton’s drawing room, than she would have felt from persons not so high in rank and so fashionable in manners. All that arose from her ignorance of ways of the world. Why did she take the opinion of her uncle as oracular in those matters of which he could not possibly know anything at all? A country clergyman, who studies books all his life-time, can know nothing of the world.
The Duchess was pleased to question Penelope on the subject of music, and was pleased to express her approbation of the good taste which the young lady displayed. By degrees the manners of her Grace appeared less repulsive, and Penelope felt herself more at her ease. There was standing by the pianoforte a young lady of mild, pleasing, and prepossessing countenance, to whom the Duchess addressed herself:
“My dear Jemima, you will perhaps have the goodness to accompany Miss Primrose on the pianoforte to some song, if there be one there that our friend would like to sing.”
The young lady expressed great readiness to oblige the Duchess—and the leaves of many books were turned over. It was not difficult to find a song that Penelope was familiar with, but it was difficult to find one which did not bring by its language or its expression some association painful and distressing to her mind. The Duchess was very patient during the search, and at length a piece was selected. Miss Primrose had a style of singing peculiarly her own. It was not marked by any very strong singularity, but its decided character was expression: and she shone most in those songs which admit of what may be called the rhetoric of music. There was also a very considerable degree of emotion in her musical expression, and it required a skilful hand to accompany her. That requisite she now had. As her voice was full and deep, it was also searching, and those who were within its reach felt themselves as it were addressed by the singer. This style was truly commanding and attractive. The company gradually surrounded the performer, and well for her she knew not till the song was finished, that any one was attending to her besides the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead and the Countess of Smatterton.
Very abundant and very sincere applause followed the music’s close. But the music or the applause was too much for our heroine, and she nearly fainted; kind and prompt assistance soon recovered her, and thus she was saved from an immediate repetition of that which her hearers would gladly have heard again. There was much talk in the room as to, who is she? But few could answer the question. One impertinent coxcomb said “She looks too modest to be a woman of great fashion.”
Just at this moment who should enter the room but Peter Kipperson, Esq.! Peter was in all his glory. He had been occupied during the whole of the day in business of the utmost importance. He had been consulted and had given his advice, and his advice had been taken. He now presented himself to Lady Smatterton’s party, in which were several members of parliament, and as these were mostly men of business, Peter was personally known to most of them, and he received and returned their salutations with great self-satisfaction. Peter was an active little man, and he was nimbly moving about the apartments in search of Miss Primrose; but before he could meet with her he encountered the Earl of Smatterton.
“Mr Kipperson,” said his lordship, “I am most happy to see you. Have you met your committee to-day in the city? Have you taken any farther steps in that business, of which you were speaking to me the other day at Smatterton? Really, Mr Kipperson, something must be done, it is becoming a very serious affair. Those merchants are very crafty, selfish people. We must put a stop to their encroachments before it is too late.”
“My lord,” replied Mr Kipperson, “I am very happy to have it in my power to assure you that the resolution which I suggested is adopted. I was forced to use all my powers of persuasion. I said to them in so many words, ‘Gentlemen,’ says I, ‘Gentlemen, if you do not adopt this resolution, the nation is ruined, we shall have the country deluged with corn, and we shall of course be all starved.’”
“That was excellent, Mr Kipperson; you have saved the nation. I see you have right views of the matter.”
Several members also of the lower house, who were present, expressed themselves to the same effect; and it was very satisfactory to Mr Kipperson to think that he had so timely and wisely interfered with his prodigious wisdom to save the nation from being starved.