Read Ebook: The Slaves of Society: A Comedy in Covers by Upward Allen

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Ebook has 1047 lines and 26299 words, and 21 pages

ithout envying that of others. There might be such persons as dukes and archbishops in the world--he was Alderman Dobbin.

So much the greater was the shock administered to his mind by the unveiled disrespect of the vicar. The alderman's evangelical zeal had received a new edge; and, at the same time, by a natural chain of cause and effect, he was in a mood peculiarly susceptible to the blandishments of one of those magnates of the earth before whom even Oxford divines are but as dust. Such a one was even now approaching the aldermanic dwelling.

A sound of horses' hoofs and carriage wheels aroused the nodding alderman, and drew him hastily to the window. He beheld a carriage and pair of the most brilliant lustre drawing up in front of his door, and a woman of stately presence looking out, while a liveried footman ascended the steps and rang the bell. The excited master of the house could scarcely refrain from bursting out into the hall, to anticipate the lagging motions of the housemaid. At last that young female, having arranged her cap to her satisfaction, could be heard flouncing past the dining-room door. A short colloquy followed, and the occupant of the carriage emerged, attended by a fashionably dressed gentleman, and entered the house. There was a sound of doors opening and shutting. Finally, the housemaid came to her impatient master.

"A lady by the name of Seven, and a gentleman, to see you, sir."

"Seven?" The alderman reflected for a moment, and then his eye fell on a card of invitation which had occupied a prominent place on the mantel-piece and in his thoughts for several days past. "You mean Lady Severn," he cried out--"the Marchioness of Severn!"

"Yes, sir; 'Lady Severn' was what she said, sir."

The alderman cast a glance of despair at his trousers.

"Run and get me the clothes-brush. No--I must change--there isn't time! Here, run up-stairs and get me my Sunday coat, while I brush these things."

The marchioness and her companion, seated in the drawing-room, were aware of a commotion outside.

"I am afraid we have thrown the establishment into confusion," the gentleman remarked.

"These sort of people always lose their heads if any one comes to see them unexpectedly," the marchioness responded. "I suppose they never visit each other; their houses are too small."

"Probably it is because they would only bore each other to death if they did. No one in the middle classes ever breaks the moral law, I understand, and so they have nothing interesting to talk about."

The marchioness frowned severely.

"Silence! Remember you are on your good behavior. You are not to shock this dear, good person."

The "dear, good person" interrupted the conversation by his appearance. He advanced to the marchioness, and shook hands with so much real regard that her rings were crushed into the flesh.

"I'm delighted to see your ladyship--delighted! It's so kind of you to come." He turned to her companion. "And you, my lord."

In Tooting it is not the custom for married ladies to drive about paying visits with gentlemen other than their husbands or near relations. The marchioness forced a somewhat unnatural smile as she explained:

"Er--let me--Mr. Despencer, a friend of mine."

A look of hopeless bewilderment appeared on the alderman's speaking countenance. Despencer skilfully put in:

"A friend of Mr. Hammond's as well. The marchioness thought it better for me to come here with her."

The tension was relieved. Alderman Dobbin seated himself facing his visitors, while the marchioness opened the conversation.

"I have taken the liberty of coming here, Mr. Dobbin, without waiting till you came to my house, because I wanted to have a private chat with you. You know how difficult it is to get five minutes' conversation with any one in those crushes."

The alderman bowed, much gratified at being supposed to know anything whatever on the subject.

"Of course, what I am going to say to you is in confidence," the marchioness proceeded. "I am sure you would not dream of mentioning to Mr. Hammond that we had been here."

"Certainly not. Your ladyship may trust me absolutely. Not a soul shall know of it."

"I have heard Mr. Hammond speak of you so often that I feel you are quite an old friend. No doubt he has talked of us to you?"

The alderman smiled feebly. He would have given a good deal to be able to say yes, but could not quite bring himself to it.

"Perhaps I ought to say he has talked of my daughter, Lady Victoria?"

Alderman Dobbin had never heard of such a person as Lady Victoria. His smile became feebler still. The marchioness coughed discreetly, and glanced towards Despencer. He came gallantly to the rescue.

"It has been understood for some time that Mr. Hammond was likely to marry Lady Victoria, as, of course, you know."

"Yes, of course; quite so," jerked out the alderman, deeply ashamed of his ignorance on the point.

The marchioness heaved a sigh.

"I need not ask if the match had your approval, Mr. Dobbin, because I am sure that you, as a friend of Mr. Hammond's, must see what an advantage such a connection would be to him in his political career."

"Certainly, your ladyship. Nothing could be better. It would go a long way in Tooting."

"Ah! And now, do you know, I am almost afraid that the idea will have to be abandoned. I hesitate whether I ought to allow my daughter to think of Mr. Hammond any longer."

"Dear me! I am very sorry to hear your ladyship say that."

Her ladyship shook her head sadly.

"Yes. I have no doubt you understand the reason."

The alderman's face again clearly betraying that he had not the remotest idea of the reason, Despencer came to his assistance once more.

"The marchioness refers to Mr. Hammond's attentions to this music-hall singer, Belle Yorke."

Alderman Dobbin sat horror-struck. He was not acquainted with Belle Yorke by name, but of music-hall singers as a class his ideas could only have been expressed in language severely Biblical. The marchioness hastened to drive the nail home.

"All his friends must share the same feelings about this unfortunate attachment," she observed, in a tone of sympathetic condolence. "What effect, in your opinion, Mr. Dobbin, would his marrying a girl of that kind have on his position here?"

"He would never get in for Tooting again. The Liberals have got a very strong candidate--Sir Thomas Huggins, a baronet. I dare say your ladyship knows him?"

Her ladyship was not quite sure whether she had met Sir Thomas Huggins.

"His social influence here is very strong. His wife, Lady Huggins, gives a garden-party every summer, and many Primrose Dames go to it. We are beginning to be afraid for the seat, as it is."

"Then you consider, speaking as a judge of the political situation, that if Mr. Hammond were to marry beneath him, instead of making such a match as it is in his power to do, it would seriously affect his prospects?"

"It would be fatal to them, my lady."

The marchioness looked up at the ceiling.

"What a pity he has no wise and candid friend to point this out to him, and remonstrate with him on behalf of the--er--the party!"

Curiously enough, there was just such a wise and candid friend in the room ready and willing to undertake the task.

"Your ladyship may leave it to me," said the eager alderman. "I will take it on myself to point out to Mr. Hammond the--the--"

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