“Ranelagh dull!”—“Ranelagh dull!—was echoed from mouth to mouth; and all the ladies, as if of one accord, regarded the Captain with looks of the most ironical contempt.
“As to Ranelagh,” said Mr. Lovell, “most indubitably, though the price is plebian, it is by no means adapted to the plebian taste. It requires a certain acquaintance with high life, and—and—and something of—of—something d’un vrai goût, to be really sensible of its merit. Those whose—whose connections, and so forth, are not among les gens comme il faut, can feel nothing but ennui at such a place as Ranelagh.”
“Ranelagh!” cried Lord ⸻, “O, ’tis the divinest place under heaven—or, indeed—for aught I know—”
“O you creature!” cried a pretty, but affected young lady, patting him with her fan, “you shan’t talk so; I know what you are going to say; but, positively, I won’t sit by you, if you’re so wicked.”
“And how can one sit by you, and be good?” said he, “when only to look at you is enough to make one wicked—or wish to be so?”
“Fie, my Lord!” returned she, “you really are insufferable. I don’t think I shall speak to you again these seven years.”
“What a metamorphosis,” cried Lord Orville, “should you make a patriarch of his Lordship.”
“Seven years!” said he, “dear Madam, be contented with telling me you will not speak to me after seven years, and I will endeavour to submit.”
“O, very well, my Lord,” answered she, “pray date the end of our speaking to each other as early as you please, I’ll promise to agree to your time.”
“You know, dear Madam,” said he, sipping his tea, “you know I only live in your sight.”
“O yes, my Lord, I have long known that. But I begin to fear we shall be too late for Ranelagh this evening.”
“O no, Madam,” said Mr. Lovel, looking at his watch, “it is but just past ten.”
“No more!” cried she, “O then we shall do very well.”
All the ladies now started up, and declared they had no time to lose.
“Why, what the D⸺l,” cried the Captain, leaning forward with both his arms on the table, “are you going to Ranelagh at this time of night?”
The ladies looked at one another, and smiled.
“To Ranelagh?” cried Lord ⸻, “yes, and I hope you are going too; for we cannot possibly excuse these ladies.”
“I go to Ranelagh?—if I do, I’ll be—.”
Everybody now stood up; and the stranger Lord, coming round to me, said, “You go, I hope?”
“No, my Lord, I believe not.”
“O you cannot, must not be so barbarous.” And he took my hand, and ran on, saying such fine speeches, and compliments, that I might almost have supposed myself a goddess, and him a pagan paying me adoration. As soon as I possibly could, I drew back my hand; but he frequently, in the course of conversation, contrived to take it again, though it was extremely disagreeable to me; and the more so, as I saw that Lord Orville had his eyes fixed upon us, with a gravity of attention that made me uneasy.
And, surely, my dear Sir, it was a great liberty in this lord, not withstanding his rank, to treat me so freely. As to Sir Clement, he seemed in misery.
They all endeavoured to prevail with the Captain to join the Ranelagh party; and this lord told me, in a low voice, that it was tearing his heart out to go without me.
During this conversation Mr. Lovel came forward, and assuming a look of surprise, made me a bow, and enquired how I did, protesting upon his honour, that he had not seen me before, or would have sooner paid his respects to me.
Though his politeness was evidently constrained, yet I was very glad to be thus assured of having nothing more to fear from him. The Captain, far from listening to their persuasions of accompanying them to Ranelagh, was quite in a passion at the proposal, and vowed he would sooner go to the Blackhole in Calcutta.
“But,” said Lord ⸻, “if the ladies will take their tea at Ranelagh, you may depend upon our seeing them safe home; for we shall be proud of the honour of attending them.”
“May be so,” said the Captain, “but I’ll tell you what, if one of these places ben’t enough for them tonight, why tomorrow they shall go to ne’er a one.”
We instantly declared ourselves ready to go home.
“It is not for yourselves that we petition,” said Lord ⸻. “But for us; if you have any charity, you will not be so cruel as to deny us; we only beg you to prolong our happiness for a few minutes—the favour is but a small one for you to grant, though so great a one for us to receive.”
“To tell you a piece of my mind,” said the Captain, surlily, “I think you might as well not give the girls so much of this palaver; they’ll take it all for gospel. As to Moll, why she’s well enough, but nothing extraordinary; though, perhaps, you may persuade her that her pug nose is all the fashion; and as to the other, why she’s good white and red to be sure; but what of that?—I’ll warrant she’ll moulder away as fast as her neighbours.”
“Is there,” cried Lord ⸻, “another man in this place, who, seeing such objects, could make such a speech?”
“As to that there,” returned the Captain, “I don’t know whether there be or no, and, to make free, I don’t care; for I shan’t go for
