Old Times' Sake

When Sophy brings my chocolate she looks somewhat distract’d. I wonder if 'tis any serious matter that’s ado, but she goes before I can interrogate her. I sip my chocolate and mind that 'twould be entire prudent to go see Mr H- concerning his friends in Sussex for 'tis high time to replenish the cellar - Hector has remarkt upon the matter to me – particular do I intend a soirée.

While ladies are not suppos’d to call upon gentlemen, 'tis an entire different matter when the fellow is a medical man, for 'twill be suppos’d that she goes consult him about some matter of health.

I get up and Docket helps me into my peignoir.

I go down to my pretty parlour and am most astonisht to discover that my breakfast has not been laid ready.

I wait some little while and it still does not appear.

I ring the bell, and comes in after a little delay, Celeste, wringing her hands in her apron.

O, Your Ladyship – indeed, 'twill be coming very shortly, we are most heartily distresst by this delay –

I know, says I somewhat frosty, that I am not mistress in my own household, but I should wish to know what is ado the morn.

Celeste continues wring her hands in her apron and then says in a small voice that Hector is in a great taking -

Hector? says I. Have we been robb’d? has there been some disaster?

O no, nothing like that, she says, 'tis somewhat about Titus. And Tibby.

Ah, thinks I, I wonder does he consider Titus a vile seducing wretch, or Tibby a naughty beguiling trollop.

And where is Hector? I ask.

Striding about the kitchen shouting so that we daresay the whole mews can hear, whispers Celeste.

Sighing, I say I will go down to the kitchen myself about this ado.

I go down to the kitchen, wishfull that I might have had some coffee afore I was oblig’d to tackle this brangle.

Hector is indeed striding about the kitchen, shouting, but also Euphemia is stood there with her hands upon her hips, shouting back. Dorcas makes little darts towards them – I daresay she tries to come at pouring oil upon troubl’d waters - while Prue cowers in a corner, and I see Timothy almost outside the backdoor.

How now, says I, is this the good practice of this household?

A silence falls. What is this brangle? I go on.

All start speaking at once. I hold up my hand. Just one, please – Dorcas?

Dorcas looks somewhat distresst. Hector, she says at length, has discover’d that Titus goes walk out with Tibby.

And, says Hector like a kettle that comes to the boil, all knew of this save me.

Indeed, says Euphemia, jumping in upon the heels of this remark, 'tis entire not at all that he goes about to take advantage of her. I think you forget the like of how Tibby is: 'twould take one getting up most extreme early to take advantage of her.

And, resumes Hector, even does he have some honourable intention, 'twould be entire ruination – when they are both got into such good situations – did they go marry. 'Twould be most imprudent.

(Sure the matter of spunges is not my secret to disclose.)

Why, says I, Hector, your concern for the well-being of those of your connexion does you very great credit. But you must consider that Titus and Tibby are now gone out into the world and making their fortune; what goes on 'twixt 'em is their business.

But to keep me in the dark -

Why, says Euphemia, I daresay they did not desire a lecture upon the imprudence of their course or accusations of taking advantage.

Hector looks at his wife: they scowl at one another.

He then clears his throat and says, perchance his concern for the good repute of their connexion makes him over-carefull, but –

Indeed 'tis an excellent thing, says I, but sure Tibby is a young woman of most excellent sense and good judgement.

Hector says, a deal more calmly, that he cannot forget how Seraphine was beguil’d by that chymist wretch.

Why, says I, I confide that circumstance was quite entire different. Had Titus not been yearning after Tibby since he first came to this household? Did she not prove quite adamant until such time as she could see that he had acquir’d sense and polish?

'Tis true, concedes Hector. But, he adds, he will go have a word with Titus anyway –

Sure, says I, walking out with a young lady like Tibby is a great protection against ladies that send little notes, &C.

He nods, and then says, they will have My Ladyship’s breakfast in the parlour most immediate.

He looks about and all start about the business they should be about – Timothy to sweep the yard, Dorcas and Prue to be about dusting &C , Celeste with the china and silver to lay my breakfast table – I turn to go, but from the corner of my eye observe that Hector and Euphemia go embrace.

So I make a somewhat belat’d breakfast and then go about my correspondence.

'Tis somewhat later that I dress in somewhat suitable for a visit to a surgeon, with a veil, and go to call upon Mr H-.

He has no other callers, tells his man to give him out not at home unless 'tis some emergency, by which he means one bleeding or with broken bones, and desires me to come sit in the parlour with him. He confides 'tis not a professional visit.

Indeed not, says I, I find myself at present in excellent good health.

He looks at me and smiles a little and says, indeed 'tis pleasing to see one that is.

Tho’, he goes on, business is a little slow. Sure there is always plenty to do at Barts, but he fears that this late scandal about body-snatching harms the carriage-trade.

Sure has affect’d a deal of his profession, he adds somewhat dolefull. Was a time he thought he might be oblig’d to prevail upon his Sussex friends to convey him to France, for there were those went turn informer in hopes of evading the worst penalties, and they would name names most exceeding wildly whether they had done business with 'em or not. But in the event his name was not mention’d. But the court of gossip is one that does not allow a fellow a defence, and any that are known to practice dissection are whisper’d upon.

He goes on in similar tones that was there some legal way to come at bodies so that they might advance knowledge there would be no need for resurrection men, which is indeed a low trade pursu’d by dreadfull fellows.

I say 'tis a very hard matter, and I hear that there are some Utilitarian free-thinkers that would go leave their bodies for dissection and the advance of knowledge.

Mr H- sighs that there are few enough of those fellows that take such a sensible line. But sure he did not mean to tell me his troubles, but indeed, Lady B-, you were ever a good listener. I confide your visit concerns Sussex business.

Indeed, says I, now that Society returns to Town and I receive company and go about to hold a soirée, 'tis high time to replenish my cellar.

Sure I am a poor host! he exclaims. Will you take a little madeira?

So I take a little madeira, for 'tis entirely sanitive and can do no harm, and he confides that the gentlemen of the Trade will be entire able to fulfil my requests.

Once that matter is dispatcht, I go thank him for the recommendation of Mr R-, that goes run the dispensary at my lead-mine along with his wife.

An excellent fellow, says Mr H-, will do very well in provincial practice. And sure one may see a deal of interesting cases in industrial districts.

He falls silent and still seems a little melancholy.

I ask does he find those that can contrive to personate Leda &C?

He sighs and says, indeed, Lady B-, in former times you had a most unique talent for the matter.

Why, Mr H, says I, do you still have your stufft swan and your portfolio of portrayals of Leda, I will go enact a few for old times sake.

He is a deal more chearfull at my departure.

I then go take my dear Jezebel for a little ride in the Park, for 'tis the fashionable time of day to be seen.

There is a deal of company about, including Agnes S-, that rides very sedate accompany’d by a groom.

She draws next to me and say, she does not know what those gloomy fellows 'tother e’en have been telling Lord D-, but he goes about to interrogate Dora and her about me –

Which, she adds, she confides leads all into confusion for he fears to say something unsuit’d to their ears, but as that is the matter he is concern’d over, winds himself quite in knots. She dares say Dora has no idea what he goes about.

O, says I, I confide has been appriz’d of my past, that I suppos’d he knew of already. Well, this is a tangle, for I thought he consider’d me in the light of a penitent magdalene that he should show forgiving towards.

And, she says, I fear that do I go be vehement in defending you, he will ask me to depart from under his roof as a deleterious influence upon Dora.

'Tis most particular unfortunate at present, says I, for I have a parcel of pretty volumes of poems for you. Let me go consider at the matter – you still go visit at N- House, I confide? And you are not forbid the company of Her Grace?

Yes, and no, but I should not like 'em to know of my poems.

Well, I will go about to contrive.