The Absentee [57]
"must get their bit and their sup;" for, "sure, it's only Biddy," they say,' continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish brogue. 'find, "sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour, my lord, has. How could he FEEL it! [Feel it: become sensible of it, know it.] Long life to him! He's not that way: not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a great dale, looks less after their own, nor is more off-handeder, or open-hearteder, or greater open-house-keepers, NOR [than] my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick." Now there's encouragement for a lord and a lady to ruin themselves.'
Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that 'she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for all occasions.' By her mixture of mimickry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and truth, she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at everything at which she wished to make him laugh; at every THING, but not every BODY whenever she became personal, he became serious, or at least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could not instantly resume the command of his risible muscles, he reproached himself.
'It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in their own house--these hospitable people, who are entertaining us.'
'Entertaining us! true, and if we are ENTERTAINED, how can we help laughing?'
All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings and principles. This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole object; but there he was mistaken. OFF-HANDED as she pretended to be, none dealt more in the IMPROMPTU FAIT A LOISIR; and mentally short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more LONGANIMITY for their own interest.
It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native country; to make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate. To confirm him an absentee was her object previously to her ultimate plan of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would therefore be glad to GET an Irish peer for her; but would be very sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young widow declared she could never bring herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony Castle.
In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain hints from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to the same point.
'Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that when I was at Lady Clonbrony's,' said Petito, one day, as she was attending at her lady's toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. 'And I own I was originally under the universal error, that my Lord Colambre was to be married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been converted and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in another way and style of thinking.'
Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask, what was her present way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly as she did not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.--'My present way of thinking,' resumed Petito, 'is in consequence of my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his lordship's behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from LUNNUN for Ireland; when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor overhearing, nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady, stopping in the antechamber, ejaculating over one of Miss Nugent's gloves, which he had picked up. "Limerick!" said he, quite loud to himself; for it was a Limerick glove, my lady,--"Limerick!--dear Ireland! she loves you as well as I do!"--or words to that effect; and then a sigh, and downstairs and off: So, thinks I, now the cat's out of the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's chance of that young lord, with all her bank stock, scrip, and OMNUM. Now, I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's no FORTIN; and
Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that 'she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for all occasions.' By her mixture of mimickry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and truth, she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at everything at which she wished to make him laugh; at every THING, but not every BODY whenever she became personal, he became serious, or at least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could not instantly resume the command of his risible muscles, he reproached himself.
'It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in their own house--these hospitable people, who are entertaining us.'
'Entertaining us! true, and if we are ENTERTAINED, how can we help laughing?'
All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings and principles. This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole object; but there he was mistaken. OFF-HANDED as she pretended to be, none dealt more in the IMPROMPTU FAIT A LOISIR; and mentally short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more LONGANIMITY for their own interest.
It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native country; to make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate. To confirm him an absentee was her object previously to her ultimate plan of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would therefore be glad to GET an Irish peer for her; but would be very sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young widow declared she could never bring herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony Castle.
In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain hints from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to the same point.
'Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that when I was at Lady Clonbrony's,' said Petito, one day, as she was attending at her lady's toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. 'And I own I was originally under the universal error, that my Lord Colambre was to be married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been converted and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in another way and style of thinking.'
Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask, what was her present way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly as she did not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.--'My present way of thinking,' resumed Petito, 'is in consequence of my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his lordship's behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from LUNNUN for Ireland; when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor overhearing, nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady, stopping in the antechamber, ejaculating over one of Miss Nugent's gloves, which he had picked up. "Limerick!" said he, quite loud to himself; for it was a Limerick glove, my lady,--"Limerick!--dear Ireland! she loves you as well as I do!"--or words to that effect; and then a sigh, and downstairs and off: So, thinks I, now the cat's out of the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's chance of that young lord, with all her bank stock, scrip, and OMNUM. Now, I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's no FORTIN; and