From these circumstances it may be then easily inferred, that Penelope was not in an enviable situation, and that nothing could have supported her spirits but that exceedingly strong propensity to bright hopes which is the characteristic of the youthful mind, and about which moralists, and essay-writers, and other wiseacres, make such a prodigious and prosy preachment. Mr Malthus himself could not desire a more effectual mean of thinning the denseness of population, than causing every mind, if it were possible, to form such a view of future days as should be actually realized by the event. But it never will be so, and it never can be so; Providence is wiser and kinder than moralists and essay-writers; and Providence has given to the young that brightness of hope, the pleasures of which are far greater than the pains of disappointment. The very disappointments of maturer life bring with them some pleasurable alleviation, in the eloquence and pathos with which we sigh and lament over the deceitfulness of the world’s promises; and thus there is a double good derived from a single evil. For youth is pleased as it looks forward to manhood, and manhood is soothed and instructed as it looks backward to youth.
We do not like to finish a chapter with a sentimentality clap-trap, therefore we turn from our digression to inform the reader, that the interview between Dr Greendale and his niece terminated in reconciling the latter to a longer residence under her uncle’s roof, and in convincing her that the non-arrival of letters from India would be very satisfactorily accounted for; so that Penelope looked forward to the party engaged for the next day with a degree of pleasure, and a portion of hope that Mr or Mrs Darnley would explain the long silence of their son.
CHAPTER III.
“A party in a parlour,” to quote an expression from the author of Peter Bell, is to a clever, active, and managing woman, a very serious and important matter. If then on the morning of that day which was destined for the reception and entertainment of Colonel Crop and Miss Spoonbill, Mrs Greendale should be extraordinarily full of business, and in proportionable ill-humour, it were not to be wondered at. This was very naturally anticipated by Penelope, who endeavoured as well as possible to provide against it. As soon therefore as breakfast was over she put on as cheerful a look as she could well assume, and asked Mrs Greendale to give her leave to assist in preparing for the evening entertainment; and to her very great astonishment, instead of meeting with a rebuff, she was answered with great civility, and her offer was accepted; and even her opinion was asked concerning divers ornamental arrangements of the supper table. The cause of this phenomenon it is our duty to explain.
Our readers then are to be informed, that on the preceding day, almost immediately after the interview and dialogue between Mrs Greendale and the doctor concerning Penelope, the angry lady of the rectory went to call on Miss Spoonbill, in order to make assurance doubly sure, as concerned the longed-for visit. At this lady’s house, Mrs Greendale had the pleasure of seeing Lord Spoonbill; and as his lordship was a very affable young man, he condescended to take great notice of Mrs Greendale, and to ask particularly after the doctor and his niece. In the course of conversation Mrs Greendale cleverly contrived to let the young lord know that there was to be a party at the rectory the following day, and that Miss Spoonbill and Colonel Crop had kindly condescended to honor the humble roof of Dr Greendale by their presence; at the same time she also ventured to express how much they would be honored and how highly gratified if his lordship should not happen to be better engaged, and would favor them with the pleasure of his company. To her inexpressibly agreeable surprise, his lordship unhesitatingly accepted the invitation. “Now a fig for Mrs Darnley,” thought Mrs Greendale; “I shall have a lord for my guest.” This it was that put Mrs Greendale in such good humour. Penelope soon received from her aunt the information which we have communicated to our readers, and with that communication she also had a request from the good-humoured and managing mistress of the rectory, that she would see that the pianoforte was in tune, and that her music-books were in order, because his lordship was excessively partial to music. It was absolutely impossible for Penelope not to comply with this courteous request, and she promised that the music should be all in proper order, though she knew that she should be under the disagreeable necessity of performing some stupid duets, in order to give his lordship an opportunity of displaying his own little knowledge of music.
Lord Spoonbill was the only son and heir of the Earl of Smatterton. At the time of which we are writing, this promising youth had just finished his education at the university of Cambridge, or more properly speaking at the joint universities of Cambridge and Newmarket; for the latter is a kind of essential appendix, or chapel of ease, to the former. It is indeed a great piece of neglect, and grievously impeaching the wisdom of our ancestors, that Cambridge only of the two universities is blessed by the vicinity of a race-course; seeing that our hereditary legislators are in many cases more fond of applying the knowledge which they acquire at Newmarket, than that which they gain, if it be any at all, at the university of Cambridge: and if there be any truth in the observation, that the best kind of education is that which is applicable to the purposes and pursuits of after-life, then indeed Newmarket may be called the better half of Cambridge. Lord Spoonbill was not one of those careless young men who lose at the university what they have gained at school; one reason was, that he had little or nothing to lose; nor was his lordship one of those foolish people who go to a university and study hard to acquire languages which they never use, and sciences which they never apply in after-life. His lordship had sense enough to conclude that, as the nobility do not talk Greek, he had no occasion to learn it; and as hereditary legislators have nothing to do with the exact sciences, it would be a piece of idle impertinence in him to study mathematics. But his lordship had heard that hereditary legislators did occasionally indulge in other pursuits, and for those pursuits he took especial care to qualify himself. In his lordship’s cranium, the organ of exclusiveness was strongly developed. We do not mean that his head was so constructed internally, as to exclude all useful furniture, but that he had a strong sense of the grandeur of nobility and the inseparable dignity which attaches itself to the privileged orders. The only instances in which he condescended to persons in inferior rank, were when he was engaged at the race-course at Newmarket, or when he found that condescension might enable him to fleece some play-loving plebeian, or when affairs of gallantry were concerned. In these matters no one could be more condescending than Lord Spoonbill. We should leave but an imperfect impression on the minds of our readers if we should omit to speak of his lordship’s outward and visible form. This was an essential part of himself which he never neglected or forgot; and it should not be neglected or forgotten by his historian. He was tall and slender, his face was long, pale and thin, his forehead was narrow, his eyes large and dull, his nose aquiline, his mouth wide, his teeth beautifully white and well formed, and displayed far more liberally than many exhibitions in the metropolis which are only ‘open from ten till dusk.’ His lips were thin, but his whiskers were tremendously thick. Of his person he was naturally and justly proud. Who ever possessed such a person and was not proud of it?
Now when this superb and elegant specimen of nobility condescended to patronize Mrs Greendale’s party, was it not enough to account for the exquisitely high spirits in which the good lady appeared, and for the unparalleled courtesy with which she accepted the offer of her niece to assist in preparation for the evening’s entertainment? Penelope herself was very much pleased; for though she had often endeavoured to persuade herself that she did not heed Mrs Greendale’s ill-humours, yet she could not help feeling the difference between good-humour and moroseness. It is not pleasant to be always within hearing even of the snarling of a dog, or the creaking of a rusty hinge, and far less pleasant is the language and tone of human censoriousness. The young lady was not only pleased with her aunt, but she also regarded Lord Spoonbill with some degree of approbation. Of his lordship indeed, she knew but little, save that when she passed him he used to stare at her with great rudeness and earnestness. That was not agreeable; but, for aught her simplicity knew to the contrary, such behaviour might be the mark of that superiority of mind which so exclusively belongs to persons of rank.
Penelope was also in good spirits at the thought of meeting Mr and Mrs Darnley, from whom it was possible that she might hear something of Robert Darnley; for though she had frequently said to herself, “I am sure he has forgotten me,” yet she did not believe herself when she said so. Most highly proper and suitable was that feeling; for it was possible that the neglect was only apparent and not real; in such case, therefore, common candour required the most favorable view of the matter. It should be stated, that Smatterton and Neverden were adjoining villages, both of them at some distance from the high road, and Neverden was in the line between Smatterton and the nearest post town. The letters were carried by a great lubberly boy, called Nick Muggins, who rode upon a little half-starved weazel-faced animal, that might pass for a horse, ass, or mule; but the poor animal was so grievously insignificant, that the inhabitants of Neverden and Smatterton did not even take the trouble to decide to what species it belonged. But let that pass. Now Nick Muggins was not one of the best readers in the world; he had unfortunately left school before he came to that part of his education. There is many a man of letters who does not know how to read. In consequence of this defect, Nick was forced to call in the aid of the more learned, and it was not unfrequently the case that when he asked Mr Darnley, saying; “Please sir, what’s the ’rection of this here?” that if the letter was for Penelope, Mr Darnley would take it of the boy and carry it to Smatterton in the course of the day, and especially when no letter came for himself from the same quarter, as he was anxious to hear from his son by every opportunity. In hopes therefore that Mr Darnley would make himself doubly welcome at Smatterton, Penelope kept up her spirits. So the day passed over very brightly and calmly; and before the shadows of evening had descended, Mrs Greendale’s party began to assemble.
No newspaper announced to the world Mrs Greendale’s rout, nor did the hospitality of the rectory disturb the neighbourhood by the rattle of carriages, the glaring of torches, the thundering of knockers, or the impatient vociferations of coachmen and footmen. Of the party, we have already mentioned Miss Spoonbill, Colonel Crop, and Lord Spoonbill. Mention has also been made of Mr and Mrs Darnley; but nothing further has been mentioned than their names. As it is desirable to know one’s company, it may not be unsuitable in this place to introduce to our readers more particularly and descriptively Mr and Mrs Darnley and family.
The Rev. Robert Darnley was rector of Neverden, having enjoyed the living about five and twenty years at the time of which we are writing. He was a most zealous churchman, and was thought by some persons of more lax and complying principles to be rather a bigot. In his manners there was no lack of courtesy, though to a casual observer he might seem rather proud and haughty. He certainly did entertain a very high sense of the dignity and importance of the clerical office; and even those who censured his stately manners bore willing testimony to the activity and zeal with which he discharged his clerical duties; and the more creditable to him was this testimony, inasmuch as he never appeared in the character of a preferment-hunter. He almost entirely confined his labours to his own parish, and though the living was small and his own property was ample, he was as attentive as if his subsistence depended on his parish. Some of his friends used to say that his professional income was altogether expended in charity. He was a man therefore of much influence in his neighbourhood, and indeed it was often remarked that he seemed to be a greater man than Sir George Aimwell himself; and in truth, if moral dignity has anything to do with greatness, he certainly was.