The Absentee [8]
porphyry columns supporting the grand dome--entablature, silvered and decorated with imitative bronze ornaments; under the entablature, A VALANCE IN PELMETS, of puffed scarlet silk, would have an unparalleled grand effect, seen through the arches--with the TREBISOND TRELLICE PAPER, would make a TOUT ENSEMBLE, novel beyond example. On that Trebisond trellice paper, I confess, ladies, I do pique myself.
'Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it temporarily into a Chinese pagoda, with this CHINESE PAGODA PAPER, with the PORCELAIN border, and josses, and jars, and beakers to match; and I can venture to promise one vase of pre-eminent size and beauty. Oh, indubitably! if your la'ship prefers it, you can have the EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHIC PAPER, with the IBIS BORDER to match! The only objection is, one sees it everywhere--quite antediluvian --gone to the hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la'ship has a fancy--At all events, I humbly recommend, what her Grace of Torcaster longs to patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with candlelight draperies. A demisaison elegance this--I hit off yesterday--and --true, your la'ship's quite correct--out of the common, completely. And, of course, you'd have the SPHYNX CANDELABRAS, and the Phoenix argands. Oh! nothing else lights now, ma'am! Expense! Expense of the whole! Impossible to calculate here on the spot!--but nothing at all worth your ladyship's consideration!'
At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been amused with all this rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble conceit of the orator; but, after what he had heard at Mr. Mordicai's, this whole scene struck him more with melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the prospect of new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring, by the jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and vexed to the heart to see his mother the dupe, the sport of such a coxcomb.
'Prince of puppies!--insufferable!--My own mother!' Lord Colambre repeated to himself, as he walked hastily up and down the room.
'Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment--your TEESTE' said his mother.
'Excuse me, ma'am. I have no taste, no judgment, in these things.'
He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho with a strong inclination to-- But knowing that he should say too much, if he said anything, he was silent never dared to approach the council table--but continued walking up and down the room, till he heard a voice, which at once arrested his attention, and soothed his ire. He approached the table instantly, and listened, whilst Grace Nugent said everything he wished to have said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he thought he could not have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed his eyes upon her--years ago, he had seen his cousin--last night, he had thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful--but now, he saw a new person, or he saw her in a new light. He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with arch raillery or grave humour, she played off Mr. Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety, lest his mother should expose her own foibles--he was touched by the respectful, earnest kindness--the soft tones of persuasion, with which she addressed his mother --the care not to presume upon her own influence--the good sense, the taste she showed, yet not displaying her superiority--the address, temper, and patience, with which she at last accomplished her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing anything preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended --when Mr. Soho departed--for Grace Nugent was then silent; and it was necessary to remove his eyes from that countenance, on which he had gazed unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her perceiving it--she seemed so intent upon others as
'Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it temporarily into a Chinese pagoda, with this CHINESE PAGODA PAPER, with the PORCELAIN border, and josses, and jars, and beakers to match; and I can venture to promise one vase of pre-eminent size and beauty. Oh, indubitably! if your la'ship prefers it, you can have the EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHIC PAPER, with the IBIS BORDER to match! The only objection is, one sees it everywhere--quite antediluvian --gone to the hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la'ship has a fancy--At all events, I humbly recommend, what her Grace of Torcaster longs to patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with candlelight draperies. A demisaison elegance this--I hit off yesterday--and --true, your la'ship's quite correct--out of the common, completely. And, of course, you'd have the SPHYNX CANDELABRAS, and the Phoenix argands. Oh! nothing else lights now, ma'am! Expense! Expense of the whole! Impossible to calculate here on the spot!--but nothing at all worth your ladyship's consideration!'
At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been amused with all this rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble conceit of the orator; but, after what he had heard at Mr. Mordicai's, this whole scene struck him more with melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the prospect of new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring, by the jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and vexed to the heart to see his mother the dupe, the sport of such a coxcomb.
'Prince of puppies!--insufferable!--My own mother!' Lord Colambre repeated to himself, as he walked hastily up and down the room.
'Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment--your TEESTE' said his mother.
'Excuse me, ma'am. I have no taste, no judgment, in these things.'
He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho with a strong inclination to-- But knowing that he should say too much, if he said anything, he was silent never dared to approach the council table--but continued walking up and down the room, till he heard a voice, which at once arrested his attention, and soothed his ire. He approached the table instantly, and listened, whilst Grace Nugent said everything he wished to have said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he thought he could not have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed his eyes upon her--years ago, he had seen his cousin--last night, he had thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful--but now, he saw a new person, or he saw her in a new light. He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with arch raillery or grave humour, she played off Mr. Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety, lest his mother should expose her own foibles--he was touched by the respectful, earnest kindness--the soft tones of persuasion, with which she addressed his mother --the care not to presume upon her own influence--the good sense, the taste she showed, yet not displaying her superiority--the address, temper, and patience, with which she at last accomplished her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing anything preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended --when Mr. Soho departed--for Grace Nugent was then silent; and it was necessary to remove his eyes from that countenance, on which he had gazed unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her perceiving it--she seemed so intent upon others as