the_comfortable_courtesan

Comes the day for the Marquess’ tiffin party at O- House. I go there betimes to ensure that all goes smoothly.

I peep into the kitchen and determine that 'tis no prudent time to go disturb Arabella, that is about the labours of producing fine Hindoo dishes, so I go instead call upon Mrs Atkins about matters more generally within the household, and to tell her that I have dispatcht her letter to her husband.

I find her sat at the table in the housekeeper’s room staring at a letter before her with tearfull joy.

Seeing me in the doorway she jumps up and bobs to me and goes apologize for her distraction, but o, Lady B-, she has had a letter from her husband in New South Wales. She dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief and says, 'tis not writ in his own hand, for he tells that he has lost the greater part of his writing finger and was unable write himself, but there is a fine young lady that comes educate those convicts that have never had the benefit of schooling, and has also offer’d write letters for those that are unable. She also goes help him teach his left hand to write –

She dabs at her eyes again, and collects herself. For, she goes on, there is a fine fellow the Reverend Mr T- that is a champion of the convicts, and endeavours raise 'em from despair at the harshness of their condition by educating 'em, and giving 'em the means to pursue trades, and sure Mr Atkins never had any time for parsons but Mr T- makes him think different. And can he write once more he may aid Mr T- and his wife, that is a most learn’d lady, in scientifick observations they undertake.

And he regrets his bitterness at the time he was transport’d, and now goes endeavour make something of himself in a new land, and mayhap, in due course, I may go out and join him – for 'tis a very fine land indeed.

Sure I am somewhat tearfull myself.

Has took, she goes on, some time to reach me once it came at these shores, but o, Lady B-, 'tis quite the best news.

Why, says I, I apprehend he has already fell in with my dear friends the T-s, and Miss N- that went with 'em rather than continue a governess, 'tis most exceeding excellent news. And, I go on, sure I confide that this letter is a very precious thing for you, but 'twould be a fine matter could I say somewhat of it and of your husband’s sentiments in the pamphlets I go write to support their endeavours.

Oh, she cries, I am sure he would entirely desire to do anything he might in their aid.

Perchance, says I, some day when we are not so bother’d by the expectation of company, I might come copy a passage or two, so that it need not go out of your hands?

She finds this a most answerable plan, and we both then collect ourselves and go discourse of household matters. She is most exceeding prepossesst by the fine polishes &C that were supply’d and would be extreme gratefull to have more.

Having conclud’d this very happy business, I go up to the fine reception room where I anticipate to find the Marquess pacing up and down. Instead I see that he stands by the window conversing with some fellow, that I am in somewhat of a surprize to recognize as the Reverend Mr L-.

I go greet 'em, and the Marquess says he apprehends that I am already acquaint’d with Mr L-?

Indeed, says I, and we go greet one another very hearty.

When I was down at D- Chase, says the Marquess, I perchanc’d to spend some time looking over the library, and there is an exceeding fine collection of works made by some ancestor that was a Biblickal scholar, including several very fine volumes in Hebrew. And seem’d to me that 'twas a sad thing that such a fine collection should blush unseen, and mayhap I should go donate it to some college or at least to some scholar that might benefit from it.

'Tis a very fine thought, says I, 'tis a sad matter that there are these fine collections that might be of the greatest utility to savants did they only know of 'em and could go consult 'em. Sure, says I, I am myself most greatly predispos’d to the British Museum, that the late Marquess left his antiquities to, and that show’d most extreme civil to Lady T- over her fine history of lace.

But, says the Marquess, I thought I should find out how out of the common these works were, so I desir’d Mr L-'s advice in the matter as one that knows a deal of Hebrew.

O, says Mr L-, his face lighting up, they are most remarkable. A deal of the fine volumes that were produc’d in Amsterdam, and even some from Venice. I am entire honour’d to have had a chance to look 'em over.

Why, says the Marquess, you are entire welcome to come study upon 'em until I determine their fate.

That is most exceeding kind and generous, Your Lordship, says Mr L-, would that not be any inconvenience.

I look out of the window and observe that there are carriages draw up at the door, and at the same time, come several footmen bearing platters of pillows, curries, and kabobs that they begin lay out upon the tables.

You will, of course, stay to my tiffin party, says the Marquess to Mr L-. 'Tis an entire informal matter.

Mr L- is quite overcome.

The R- House party are shown in, follow’d with considerable expedition by Lord N-'s children, tho’ the Earl is not with 'em. Lord U- presents his father’s apologies – has been oblig’d to go down to Monk’s G- about some matter. All look somewhat reliev’d that this is so – I daresay I show thus myself.

Lady Anna shows quite civil towards the Marquess – I am like to suppose that they have come to a conclusion that 'tis time to cease the comedy of indifference, and display some inclination towards one another.

Lord Edward looks at Milord, and then nudges Lord Geoffrey in the ribs and says, see, we told you 'twas not the correct ton to wear very fancy waistcoats on such an occasion. You should go lesson yourself by Lord R-.

Indeed, says I, a fellow that desires not to acquire the reputation of being foppish rather than exceeding well-dresst, would do well to take His Lordship as a pattern.

Is also said, goes on Lord Edward, that he is quite the finest swordsman in Town? He looks somewhat longing at the thought.

Lord U- has fallen into easy conversation with Sandy, somewhat to Lord Geoffrey’s chagrin.

A deal more company arrives, including Mr and Mrs O- B- with Charley and Cissie, and Lord A- with 'em. There is a deal of congratulation and well-wishing. Lord and Lady D- come with Agnes S-: he goes somewhat officious about ensuring that Lady D- may sit down, but then goes carefully select her a nice little plateful from the dishes laid out upon the table and looks at her very doating.

Agnes S- looks quite delight’d to see the Reverend Mr L-, and I collect that I have not yet gone about enquiring how there might be some means to appoint a curate to his parish to allow him more time for the pursuit of learning. But sure there has been a great press of other matter of late. 'Twould be in poor ton to go take out my little memorandum book and make a note.

But minding on my memorandum book recalls to me that I made a little note to raise a matter quite informal with Biffle, that has lately arriv’d with Viola, Lady J-, and Sebastian K-. The latter is greet’d with great effusiveness by the Earl’s sons.

I go perambulate among the company, that now includes a deal of the Marquess’ savant connexion besides the V-s, greeting one or another and exchanging a few words, until I come to where Biffle and Viola are. I ask after their health, and how do Essie and little Lady Cathy – sure, says Viola, cannot be long now until she may make her debut in the R- House nursery-set.

I then say, sure 'tis shocking poor ton to open the matter on such an occasion, but I am in the apprehension that the street where I reside is part of the patrimony of the Dukes of M-? – Indeed, says Biffle, was some ancestor made very prudent investment in that area.

Only, says I, I hear that the house next to mine goes fall empty, and I should be most exceeding gratefull might I have first refusal when 'tis offer’d to a new tenant, so go about to be beforehand in the matter.

Why, says Biffle, I confide that 'tis in no way as charming a residence as your present home.

I daresay not, says I, but has been put to me that 'twould be possible to join it to my own pretty little house, and then I might contrive to various matters that I can find no way to manage in my dear small house.

O, cries Viola, 'tis a fine notion. For I know you have been oblig’d to turn away some several that solicit’d the entrée to your soirées because of the smallness of your house.

Why, says I, should prefer to keep my soirées select, but I think on dinner-parties, and I am in quite the greatest desire for a library.

Biffle looks thoughtfull and says, he dares say he needs go talk to the fellows in the estate office, and find out what passes in the matter, but he is mind’d – turning to Viola, he adds, do you not think so, my dear? – how very much we owe you, in particular the late matters to do with m’sister, and 'twould be entire vulgar to enter into any commercial transaction over the business, and sure, 'tis entirely due to your sound recommendations of Mr F-'s advice and Jacob S-'s services as master of works that N- now goes most exceeding profitable, even do we dedicate a deal of the profits to improvements. No, indeed, we are not come to the state where we need demand money from such a friend.

O, says I, 'twould be entirely too kind.

O, fiddlesticks! says Viola, taking Biffle’s hand and squeezing it, indeed 'twould be some minor recompense for all you have done for us. (I am in some suspicion that they come to an apprehension of my contrivance that brought about their marriage.)