Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 82: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JOSEPH WILMOT:; assuming an insolent air of defiance, “ I demand explanations. When friends come in this promis- cuous way, they had no ought to be treated with difference,” “T am not aware,” responded the nobleman, “that Mr., Mrs., and Miss Boustead were ever entitled to consider themselves the friends of the family whereof I have the pride and honour to be the head.” “Then, by Jove!” thundered forth Mr. Boustead, I have “we have been completely humbugged! been made an ass of: you, my dear,”—speaking to his wife—“are a fool; and you, Phemy, are jilted !” Miss Boustead sent forth a piercing shriek, and immediately went off into hysterics,—from which however she recovered as rapidly ;—for her father, shaking her roughly by the shoulder, while the mother held her in her arms, exclaimed in his coarse voice, “Come gal—none of this nonsense! Let’s show that we are as good as them any day in the week. Why, what’s a pauper broken-down Lord, that hasn’t got a guinea to bless himself with ?” “John,” said Lord Rayenshill, turning with calm and stately dignity towards one of the foot- men standing near; “kick this insolent plebeian down the steps :’—but John, not exactly thinking his master was serious, contented himself with saying, “ Yes, my lord,’ and only shuffled about on the spot where he stood. “Tl be revenged for this!” thundered forth the capitalist, marching back to his carriage. * And so you call yourself a lady?” cried Mrs. Boustead, throwing this taunt at my mistress. **In my opinion a lady is a lady which can keep up appearances as such.” “You may tell your coxcomb son that I never could bear him!” shrieked forth Euphemia, her whole form convulsed and her accents inflected with hysterical rage. “I meant to have written him a note to-morrow to break off the engage- ment—that I did! Pa knows it—and ma too!” * But we'll have our action for breach of pro- mise,” roared forth Mr. Boustead from the interior of his carriage, into which he had very courteously and politely rushed before handing in his wife and daughter. Lord and Lady Ravenshill paid no farther at- tention to the irate family; but, descending the steps, proceeded in a leisurely manner along the eravel-walk in one direction—while the vehicle, turning round, rolled off in another. Such was the scene of which I became a wit- ness. I do not however think that Lord and Lady Ravenshill foresaw that it would assume quite so violent an aspect, when they first put on that air of cold reserve wherewith to receive the Bousteads, and which they probably thought would overpower and annihilate them completely. It was now evident enough that all ideas of a matri- monial alliance in that quarter were completely abandoned, even as a last resource and as an alter- native which it was at all worth while reserving to fall back upon: so that the inference to.be drawn, was that the Ravenshill family were perfectly sure of the match with Miss Jenkinson coming off. On the following day fresh letters arrived from London for my lord and her ladyship ; and imme- OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 69 diately after their receipt, commands were issucd that preparations should be made for their prompt departure for the metropolis. At first I was terri- bly alarmed lest I should be included amongst those domestics who were to accompany my lord and her ladyship: for I by no means relished the idea of returning to the capital, and thus standing a chance of falling into the power of Mr. Lanover, But I was soon relieved from this apprehension, as only one trayelling-carriage was to set out— one valet and one maid only to accompany it. That same day they set off,—my lord and her ladyship being no doubt very anxious to be in- troduced to their future daughter-in-law: and in the servants’-hall it was surmised, from something her ladyship had let drop to one of her maids, that the nuptials of the Hon. Mr. Walter with Miss Jenkinson were to be celebrated very shortly. I could not help remarking that within the next few days there was an almost incessant calling of tradesmen from the town, at Charlton Hall, for the purpose of seeking interviews with the steward, the housekeeper, and the butler. Tradesmen from Exeter, who likewise furnished certain goods to the mansion, paid similar visits; and I gathered from the conversation of my fellow-servants that in consequence of the report of the match being broken off between Mr. Walter and Miss Boustead, as well as by reason of the apparently abrupt de- parture of my lord and her ladyship—the trades- men had experienced quite a panic, fearing lest the report of another marriage being on the tapis was a mere delusion. It was however apparent that they for the most part received satisfactory assur- ances from the chiefs of the domestic household; as in the great majority of instances they went away contented. But still it was not invariably so: for five or six of them grumbled openly and loudly,— not even hesitating to hint that from something they had heard, his lordship’s affairs were in a state hopelessly beyond redemption, no matter how brilliant an alliance Mr. Walter might contract. It was tolerably evident—and indeed, was soon known for a certainty—that Mr. Boustead, furious at the disappointment of his hope to become con- nected with the Ravenshill family, had been doing his best to produce this panic amongst the trades- men, and that he had availed himself of his own peculiar knowledge of his lordship’s affairs to pro- pagate these very serious rumours to which some of the creditors alluded. I remember that one tradesman —a wine- merchant residing at Exeter—was exceedingly plain and peremptory in the nature of the obscr- vations which he made. He arrived in his gig one afternoon—was closetted for some time with both the steward and butler—and when he issued forth from the private room of the former, he looked particularly dissatisfied. “Well,” he said, as he stalked along the pas- sage towards the servants’ entrance, at which his gig was standing,—and he spoke very loud as he addressed himself to the steward,—“ you under- stand me. I have waited long enough. Two thousand seven hundred pounds to a provincial wine-merchant is rather too much. I have got his lordship’s warrant-of-attorney ; and if within one month from this date, my claim is not paid, I will send the bailiffs into the house. So don’t let his —_—_—eo oS Cr SO EGhboo Ss (C@) im