Dr Thorne - Anthony Trollope [47]
‘Would it not be better to send him abroad at once?’
‘Much better, I should think,’ said the Lady Arabella: ‘but you know I never interfere: perhaps you would speak to Mr Gresham.’
The countess smiled grimly, and shook her head with a decidedly negative shake. Had she said out loud to the young man, ‘Your father is such an obstinate, pig-headed, ignorant fool, that it is no use speaking to him; it would be wasting fragrance on the desert air,’ she could not have spoken more plainly. The effect on Frank was this: that he said to himself, speaking quite as plainly as Lady de Courcy had spoken by her shake of the face, ‘My mother and aunt are always down on the governor, always; but the more they are down on him the more I’ll stick to him. I certainly will take my degree: I will read like bricks; and I’ll begin tomorrow.’
‘Now will you take some beef, aunt?’ This was said out loud.
The Countess de Courcy was very anxious to go on with her lesson without loss of time; but she could not, while surrounded by guests and servants, enunciate the great secret: ‘You must marry money, Frank; that is your one great duty; that is the matter to be borne steadfastly in your mind.’ She could not now, with sufficient weight and impress of emphasis, pour this wisdom into his ears; the more especially as he was standing up to his work of carving, and was deep to his elbows in horse-radish, fat, and gravy. So the countess sat silent while the banquet proceeded.
‘Beef, Harry?’ shouted out the young heir to his friend Baker. ‘Oh! but I see it isn’t your turn yet. I beg your pardon, Miss Bateson,’ and he sent to that lady a pound and a half of excellent meat, cut out with great energy in one slice, about half an inch thick.
And so the banquet went on.
Before dinner Frank had found himself obliged to make numerous small speeches in answer to the numerous individual congratulations of his friends; but these were as nothing to the one great accumulated onus of an oration which he had long known that he should have to sustain after the cloth was taken away. Someone of course would propose his health, and then there would be a clatter of voices, ladies and gentlemen, men and girls; and when that was done he would find himself standing on his legs, with the room about him, going round and round and round.
Having had a previous hint of this, he had sought advice from his cousin, the Honourable George, whom he regarded as a dab at speaking; at least, so he had heard the Honourable George say of himself.
‘What the deuce is a fellow to say, George, when he stands up after the clatter is done?’
‘Oh, it’s the easiest thing in life,’ said the cousin. ‘Only remember this: you mustn’t get astray; that is what they call presence of mind, you know. I’ll tell you what I do, and I’m often called up, you know; at our agriculturals I always propose the farmers’ daughters: well, what I do is this – I keep my eye steadfastly fixed on one of the bottles, and never move it.’
‘On one of the bottles!’ said Frank; ‘wouldn’t it be better if I made a mark of some old covey’s head? I don’t like looking at the table.’
‘The old covey’d move, and then you’d be done; besides, there isn’t the least use in the world in looking up. I’ve heard people say, who go to those sort of dinners every day of their lives, that whenever anything witty is said, the fellow who says it is sure to be looking at the mahogany.’
‘Oh, you know I shan’t say anything witty; I’ll be quite the other way.’
‘But there’s no reason you shouldn’t learn the manner. That’s the way I succeeded. Fix your eye on one of the bottles, put your thumbs in your waistcoat pockets; stick out your elbows, bend your knees a little, and then go ahead.’
‘Oh, ah! go ahead; that’s very well; but you can’t go ahead if you haven’t got any steam.’
‘A very little does it. There can be nothing so easy as your speech. When one has to say something new every year about the farmers’ daughters, why one has to use one’s brains a bit. Let