wives.
We have said by whose invitation and encouragement General Baynes was induced to
bring his family to the boarding-house at Paris; the instigation, namely, of his
friend and companion in arms, the gallant Colonel Bunch. When the Baynes family
arrived, the Bunches were on the steps of madame's house, waving a welcome to
the new-comers. It was, "Here we are, Bunch, my boy."
"Glad to see you, Baynes. Right well you're looking, and so's Mrs. B."
And the general replies, "And so are you, Bunch; and so do you, Mrs. B."
"How do, boys? Hoy d'you do, Miss Charlotte? Come to show the Paris fellows what
a pretty girl is, hey? Blooming like a rose, Baynes!"
"I'm telling the general," cries the colonel to the general's lady, "the girl's
the very image of her mother."
In this case poor Charlotte must have looked like a yellow rose, for Mrs. Baynes
was of a bilious temperament and complexion, whereas Miss Charlotte was as fresh
pink and white as��what shall we say?��as the very freshest strawberries mingled
with the very nicest cream.
The two old soldiers were of very great comfort to one another. They toddled
down to Galignani's together daily, and read the papers there. They went and
looked at the reviews in the Carrousel, and once or twice to the Champ de
Mars;��recognizing here and there the numbers of the regiments against which
they had been engaged in the famous ancient wars. They did not brag in the least
about their achievements, they winked and understood each other. They got their
old uniforms out of their old boxes, and took a voiture de remise, by Jove! and
went to be presented to Louis Philippe. They bought a catalogue; and went to the
Louvre, and wagged their honest old heads before the pictures; and, I daresay,
winked and nudged each other's brave old sides at some of the nymphs in the
statue gallery. They went out to Versailles with their families; loyally stood
treat to the ladies at the restaurateur's. (Bunch had taken down a memorandum in
his pocket-book from Benyon, who had been the duke's aide-de-camp in the last
campaign, to "go to Beauvillier's," only Beauvillier's had been shut up for
twenty years.) They took their families and Charlotte to the Th��tre Fran�ais,
to a tragedy; and they had books: and they said it was the most confounded
nonsense they ever saw in their lives; and I am bound to say that Bunch, in the
back of the box, snored so, that, though in retirement, he created quite a
sensation. "Corneal," he owns, was too much for him: give him Shakspeare: give
him John Kemble: give him Mrs. Siddons: give him Mrs. Jordan. But as for this
sort of thing? "I think our play days are over, Baynes��hey?" And I also believe
that Miss Charlotte Baynes, whose knowledge of the language was slight as yet,
was very much bewildered during the tragedy, and could give but an imperfect
account of it. But then Philip Firmin was in the orchestra stalls; and had he
not sent three bouquets for the three ladies, regretting that he could not come
to see somebody in the Champs Elys�es, because it was his post day, and he must
write his letter for the Pall Mall Gazette? There he was, her Cid; her peerless
champion: and to give up father and mother for him? our little Chim�ne thought
such a sacrifice not too difficult. After that dismal attempt at the theatre,
the experiment was not repeated. The old gentlemen preferred their whist, to
those pompous Alexandrines sung through the nose, which Colonel Bunch, a
facetious little colonel, used to imitate, and, I am given to understand, very
badly.
The worthy officers compared madame's to an East Indian ship, quarrels and all.
Selina went on just in that way on board the Burrumpooter. Always rows about
precedence, and the services, and the deuce knows what. Women always will.
Selina Bunch went on in that way: and Eliza Baynes also went on in that way: but
I should think, from the most trustworthy information, that Eliza was worse than
Selina.
"About any person with a title, that woman will make a fool of herself to the
end of the chapter," remarked Selina of her friend. "You remember how she used
to go on at Barrackpore about that little shrimp Stoney Battersby, because he
was an Irish viscount's son? See how she flings herself at the head of this Mrs.
Boldero��with her airs, and her paint, and her black front! I can't bear the
woman! I know she has not paid madame. I know she is no better than she should
be; and to see Eliza Baynes coaxing her, and sidling up to her, and flattering
her:��it's too bad, that it is! A woman who owes ever so much to madame! a woman
who doesn't pay her washer-woman!"
"Just like the Burrumpooter over again, my dear," cries Colonel Bunch. "You and
Eliza Baynes were always quarrelling; that's the fact. Why did you ask her to
come here? I knew you would begin again, as soon as you met." And the truth was
that these ladies were always fighting and making up again.
"So you and Mrs. Bunch were old acquaintances?" asked Mrs. Boldero of her new
friend. "My dear Mrs. Baynes! I should hardly have thought it: your manners are
so different! Your friend, if I may be so free as to speak, has the camp manner.
You have not the camp manner at all. I should have thought you�� excuse me the
phrase, but I'm so open, and always speak my mind out��you haven't the camp
manner at all. You seem as if you were one of us. Minna! doesn't Mrs. Baynes put
you in mind of Lady Hm��?" (The name is inaudible, in consequence of Mrs.
Boldero's exceeding shyness in mentioning names; but the girls see the likeness
to dear Lady Hm�� at once.) "And when you bring your dear girl to London, you'll
know the lady I mean, and judge for yourself. I assure you I am not disparaging
you, my dear Mrs. Baynes, in comparing you to her!"
And so the conversation goes on. If Mrs. Major MacWhirter at Tours chose to
betray secrets, she could give extracts from her sister's letters to show how
profound was the impression created in Mrs. General Baynes' mind by the
professions and conversation of the Scotch lady.
"Didn't the general shoot and love deer-stalking? The dear general must come to
Gaberlunzie Castle, where she would promise him a Highland welcome. Her brother
Strongitharm was the most amiable of men; adored her and her girls: there was
talk even of marrying Minna to the captain, but she for her part could not
endure the marriage of first-cousins. There was a tradition against such
marriages in their family. Of three Bolderos and Strongitharms who married their
first-cousins, one was drowned in Gaberlunzie lake three weeks after the
marriage; one lost his wife by a galloping consumption, and died a monk at Rome;
and the third married a fortnight before the battle of Culloden, where he was
slain at the head of the Strongitharms. Mrs. Baynes had no idea of the splendour
of Gaberlunzie Castle; seventy bedrooms and thirteen company rooms, besides the
picture gallery! In Edinburgh, and Strongitharm had the right to wear his bonnet
in the presence of his sovereign." A bonnet! how very odd, my dear! But with
ostrich plumes, I daresay
it may look well, especially as the Highlanders wear
frocks too. "Lord Strongitharm had no house in London, having almost ruined
himself in building his princely castle in the north. Mrs. Baynes must come
there and meet their noble relatives and all the Scottish nobility." Nor do I
care about these vanities, my dear, but to bring my sweet Charlotte into the
world: is it not a mother's duty?
Not only to her sister, but likewise to Charlotte's friends of Queen Square, did
Mrs. Baynes impart these delightful news. But this is in the first ardour of the
friendship which arises between Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Boldero, and before those
unpleasant money disputes of which we have spoken.
Afterwards, when the two ladies have quarrelled regarding the memorable "sang
song frong," I think Mrs. Bunch came round to Mrs. Boldero's side. "Eliza Baynes
is too hard on her. It is too cruel to insult her before those two unhappy
daughters. The woman is an odious woman, and a vulgar woman, and a schemer, and
I always said so. But to box her ears before her daughters��her honourable
friend of last week! it's a shame of Eliza!"
"My dear, you'd better tell her so!" says Bunch drily. "But if you do, tell her
when I'm out of the way, please!" And accordingly, one day when the two old
officers return from their stroll, Mrs. Bunch informs the colonel that she has
had it out with Eliza; and Mrs. Baynes, with a heated face, tells the general
that she and Mrs. Colonel Bunch have quarrelled; and she is determined it shall
be for the last time. So that poor Madame de Smolensk has to interpose between
Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Boldero; between Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Bunch; and to sit
surrounded by glaring eyes, and hissing inuendoes, and in the midst of feuds
unhealable. Of course, from the women the quarrelling will spread to the
gentlemen. That always happens. Poor Madame trembles. Again Bunch gives his
Burrumpooter in very bad weather, too.
"At any rate, we won't be lugged into it, Baynes, my boy!" says the colonel, who
is of a sanguine temperament, to his friend.
"Hey, hey! don't be too sure, Bunch; don't be too sure!" sighs the other
veteran, who, it may be, is of a more desponding turn, as, after a battle at
luncheon, in which the Amazons were fiercely engaged, the two old warriors take
their walk to Galignani's.
Towards his Charlotte's relatives poor Philip was respectful by duty and a sense
of interest, perhaps. Before marriage, especially, men are very kind to the
relatives of the beloved object. They pay compliments to mamma; they listen to
papa's old stories, and laugh appositely; they bring presents for the innocent
young ones, and let the little brothers kick their shins. Philip endured the
juvenile Bayneses very kindly: he took the boys to Franconi's, and made his
conversation as suitable as he could to the old people. He was fond of the old
general, a simple and worthy old man; and had, as we have said, a hearty
sympathy and respect for Madame Smolensk, admiring her constancy and goodhumour
under her many trials. But those who have perused his memoirs are aware that Mr.
Firmin could make himself, on occasions, not a little disagreeable. When
sprawling on a sofa, engaged in conversation with his charmer, he would not
budge when other ladies entered the room. He scowled at them, if he did not like
them. He was not at the least trouble to conceal his likes or dislikes. He had a
manner of fixing his glass in his eye, putting his thumbs into the armholes of
his waistcoat, and talking and laughing very loudly at his own jokes or
conceits, which was not pleasant or respectful to ladies.
"Your loud young friend, with the cracked boots, is very maurais ton, my dear
Mrs. Baynes," Mrs. Boldero remarked to her new friend, in the first ardour of
their friendship. "A relative of Lord Ringwood's, is he? Lord Ringwood is a very
queer person. A son of that dreadful Dr. Firmin, who ran away after cheating
everybody? Poor young man! He can't help having such a father, as you say, and
most good, and kind, and generous of you to say so. And the general and the
Honourable Philip Ringwood were early companions together, I daresay. But,
having such an unfortunate father as Dr. Firmin, I think Mr. Firmin might be a
little less prononc�; don't you? And to see him in cracked boots, sprawling over
the sofas, and hear him, when my loves are playing their duets, laughing and
talking so very loud,��I confess isn't pleasant to me. I am not used to that
kind of monde, nor are my dear loves. You are under great obligations to him,
and he has behaved nobly, you say? Of course. To get into your society an
unfortunate young man will be on his best behaviour, though he certainly does
not condescend to be civil to us. But ... What! That young man engaged to that
lovely, innocent, charming child, your daughter? My dear creature, you frighten
me! A man, with such a father; and, excuse me, with such a manner; and without a
penny in the world, engaged to Miss Baynes! Goodness, powers! It must never be.
It shall not be, my dear Mrs. Baynes. Why, I have written to my nephew Hector to
come over, Strongitharm's favourite son and my favourite nephew. I have told him
that there is a sweet young creature here, whom he must and ought to see. How
well that dear child would look presiding at Strongitharm Castle? And you are
going to give her to that dreadful young man with the loud voice and the cracked
boots��that smoky young man��oh, impossible!"
Madame had, no doubt, given a very favourable report of her new lodgers to the
other inmates of her house; and she and Mrs. Boldero had concluded that all
general officers returning from India were immensely rich. To think that her
daughter might be the Honourable Mrs. Strongitharm, Baroness Strongitharm, and
walk in a coronation in robes, with a coronet in her hand! Mrs. Baynes yielded
in loyalty to no woman, but I fear her wicked desires compassed a speedy royal
demise, as this thought passed through her mind of the Honourable Lenox
Strongitharm. She looked him out in the Peerage, and found that young nobleman
designated as the Captain of Strongitharm. Charlotte might be the Honourable
Mrs. Captain of Strongitharm! When poor Phil stalked in after dinner that
evening in his shabby boots and smoky paletot, Mrs. Baynes gave him but a grim
welcome. He went and prattled unconsciously by the side of his little Charlotte,
of welcome. He prattled away. He laughed out loud whilst Minna and Brenda were
thumping their duet. "Taisez-vous donc, Monsieur Philippe," cries madame,
putting her finger to her lip. The Honourable Mrs. Boldero looked at dear Mrs.
Baynes, and shrugged her shoulders. Poor Philip! would he have laughed so loudly
(and so rudely, too, as I own) had he known what was passing in the minds of
those women? Treason was passing there: and before that glance of knowing scorn,
shot from the Honourable Mrs. Boldero's eyes, dear Mrs. General Baynes faltered.
&n
bsp; How very curt and dry she was with Philip! how testy with Charlotte! Poor
Philip, knowing that his charmer was in the power of her mother, was pretty
humble to this dragon; and attempted, by uncouth flatteries, to soothe and
propitiate her. She had a queer, dry humour, and loved a joke; but Phil's fell
very flat this night. Mrs. Baynes received his pleasantries with an "Oh,
indeed!" She was sure she heard one of the children crying in their nursery.
"Do, pray, go and see, Charlotte, what that child is crying about." And away
goes poor Charlotte, having but dim presentiment of misfortune as yet. Was not
mamma often in an ill humour; and were they not all used to her scoldings?
As for Mrs. Colonel Bunch, I am sorry to say that, up to this time, Philip was
not only no favourite with her, but was heartily disliked by that lady. I have
told you our friend's faults. He was loud: he was abrupt: he was rude often: and
often gave just cause of annoyance by his laughter, his disrespect, and his
swaggering manner. To those whom he liked he was as gentle as a woman; and
treated them with an extreme tenderness and touching rough respect. But those
persons about whom he was indifferent, he never took the least trouble to
conciliate or please. If they told long stories, for example, he would turn on
his heel, or interrupt them by observations of his own on some quite different
subject. Mrs. Colonel Bunch, then, positively disliked that young man, and I
think had very good reasons for her dislike. As for Bunch, Bunch said to Baynes,
"Cool hand, that young fellow!" and winked. And Baynes said to Bunch, "Queer
chap. Fine fellow, as I have reason to know pretty well. I play a club. No club?
I mark honours and two tricks." And the game went on. Clancy hated Philip: a
meek man, whom Firmin had yet managed to offend. "That man," the pote Clancy
remarked, "has a manner of treading on me corrans which is intolerable to me!"
The truth is, Philip was always putting his foot on some other foot, and
trampling it. And as for the Boldero clan, Mr. Firmin treated them with the most
amusing insolence, and ignored them as if they were out of existence altogether.
So you see the poor fellow had not with his poverty learned the least lesson of
humility, or acquired the very earliest rudiments of the art of making friends.
I think his best friend in the house was its mistress, Madame Smolensk. Mr.
Philip treated her as an equal: which mark of affability he was not in the habit
of bestowing on all persons. Some great people, some rich people, some
would-be-fine people, he would patronize with an insufferable audacity. Rank or
wealth do not seem somehow to influence this man, as they do common mortals. He
would tap a bishop on the waistcoat, and contradict a duke at their first
meeting. I have seen him walk out of church during a stupid sermon, with an
audible remark perhaps to that effect, and as if it were a matter of course that
he should go. If the company bored him at dinner, he would go to sleep in the
most unaffected manner. At home we were always kept in a pleasant state of
anxiety, not only by what he did and said, but by the idea of what he might do
or say next. He did not go to sleep at madame's boarding-house, preferring to
keep his eyes open to look at pretty Charlotte's. And were there ever such
sapphires as his? she thought. And hers? Ah! if they have tears to shed, I hope
a kind fate will dry them quickly!
CHAPTER V. TREATS OF DANCING, DINING, DYING.
Old schoolboys remember how, when pious �neas was compelled by painful
circumstances to quit his country, he and his select band of Trojans founded a
new Troy, where they landed; raising temples to the Trojan gods; building
streets with Trojan names; and endeavouring, to the utmost of their power, to
recal their beloved native place. In like manner, British Trojans and French