Our hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his friend's last remark, that it is safer to judge of people by their conduct to others than by their manners towards ourselves; but as yet, he felt scarcely any interest on the subject of Lady Dashfort or Lady Isabel's characters; however, he inquired and listened to all the evidence he could obtain respecting this mother and daughter.
He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done in families; the extravagance into which they had led men; the imprudence, to say no worse, into which they had betrayed women.
Matches broken off, reputations ruined, husbands alienated from their wives, and wives made jealous of their husbands.But in some of these stories he discovered exaggeration so flagrant as to make him doubt the whole; in others, it could not be positively determined whether the mother or daughter had been the person most to blame.
Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of believing only half what the world says, and here he thought it fair to believe which half he pleased.He further observed, that, though all joined in abusing these ladies in their absence, when present they seemed universally admired.Though everybody cried 'Shame!'
and 'shocking!' yet everybody visited them.No parties so crowded as Lady Dashfort's; no party deemed pleasant or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady Isabel was not.The bon-mots of the mother were everywhere repeated; the dress and air of the daughter everywhere imitated.Yet Lord Colambre could not help being surprised at their popularity in Dublin, because, independently of all moral objections, there were causes of a different sort, sufficient, he thought, to prevent Lady Dashfort from being liked by the Irish; indeed by any society.She in general affected to be ill-bred, and inattentive to the feelings and opinions of others; careless whom she offended by her wit or by her decided tone.There are some persons in so high a region of fashion, that they imagine themselves above the thunder of vulgar censure.Lady Dashfort felt herself in this exalted situation, and fancied she might 'hear the innocuous thunder roll below.' Her rank was so high that none could dare to call her vulgar; what would have been gross in any one of meaner note, in her was *******, or originality, or Lady Dashfort's way.It was Lady Dashfort's pleasure and pride to show her power in perverting the public taste.She often said to those English companions with whom she was intimate, 'Now see what follies Ican lead these fools into.Hear the nonsense I can make them repeat as wit.' Upon some occasion, one of her friends VENTUREDto fear that something she had said was TOO STRONG.'Too strong, was it? Well, I like to be strong--woe be to the weak.' On another occasion she was told that certain visitors had seen her ladyship yawning.'Yawn, did I?--glad of it--the yawn sent them away, or I should have snored;--rude, was I? they won't complain.To say I was rude to them would be to say, that I did not think it worth my while to be otherwise.Barbarians! are not we the civilised English, come to teach them manners and fashions? Whoever does not conform, and swear allegiance too, we shall keep out of the English pale.'
Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion: fashion, which converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful and charming, governs the public mode in morals and in manners; and thus, when great talents and high rank combine, they can debase or elevate the public taste.
With Lord Colambre she played more artfully; she drew him out in defence of his beloved country, and gave him opportunities of appearing to advantage; this he could not help feeling, especially when the Lady Isabel was present.Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough with human nature to know, that to make any man pleased with her, she should begin by ****** him pleased with himself.
Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began to think, were assumed; he pardoned her defiance of good breeding, when he observed that she could, when she chose it, be most engagingly polite.It was not that she did not know what was right, but that she did not think it always for her interest to practise it.
The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit depended merely on unexpectedness; a characteristic which may be applied to any impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct.In some of her ladyship's repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear it.In short, exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's conversation had become entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow that she could be agreeable.
'Ay, I knew how it would be,' said she, when some of her friends told her this.'He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that, if I thought it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner or later.I delight in seeing people begin with me as they do with olives, ****** all manner of horrid faces and silly protestations that they will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but, after a little time, these very folk.
grow so desperately fond of olives, that there is no dessert without them.Isabel, child, you are in the sweet line--but sweets cloy.You never heard of anybody living on marmalade, did ye?'--Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.--'To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well,' pursued the mother; 'but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up the spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece; and I am that somebody--as you shall see.Is not that our hero's voice, which I hear on the stairs?'
