Silverbridge when he reached Brook Street that day was surprised to find that a large party was going to lunch there. Isabel had asked him to come, and he had thought her the dearest girl in the world for doing so. but now his gratitude for that favour was considerably abated. He did not care just now for the honour of eating his lunch in the presence of Mr Gotobed, the American minister, whom he found there already in the drawing-room with Mrs Gotobed, nor with Ezekiel Sevenkings, the great American poet from the far West, who sat silent and stared at him in an unpleasant way. When Sir Timothy Beeswax was announced, with Lady Beeswax, and her daughter, his gratification certainly was not increased.
And the last comer,--who did to arrive till they were all seated at the table,--almost made him start from his chair and take his departure suddenly. That last comer was no other than Mr Adolphus Longstaff. As it happened he was seated next to Dolly, with Lady Beeswax on the other side of him. Whereas his Holy of Holies was on the other side of Dolly! The arrangement made seemed to have been monstrous. He had endeavoured to get next to Isabel; but she had so manoeuvred that there should be a vacant seat between them.
He had not much regarded this because a vacant chair may be pushed on one side. But before he had made all his calculations Dolly Longstaff was sitting there! He almost thought that Dolly winked at him in triumph,--that very Dolly, who an hour ago had promised to take himself upon his Asiatic travels!
Sir Timothy and the minister kept up the conversation very much between them, Sir Timothy flattering everything that was American, and the minister finding fault with very many things which were English. Now and then Mr Boncassen would put in a word to soften the severe honesty of his countryman, or to correct the euphemistic falsehoods of Sir Timothy. The poet seemed always to be biding his time. Dolly ventured to whisper a word to his neighbour. It was but to say that the frost had broken up. But Silverbridge heard it and looked daggers at everyone. Then Lady Beeswax expressed to him a hope that he was going to do great things in Parliament this session. 'I don't mean to go near the place,' he said, not at all conveying any purpose to which he had really come, but driven by the stress of the moment to say something that should express his general hatred of everybody. Mr Lupton was there, on the other side of Isabel, and was soon engaged with her in a pleasant familiar conversation. Then Silverbridge remembered that he had always thought Lupton to be a most conceited prig. Nobody gave himself so many airs, or was so careful as to the dyeing of his whiskers. It was astonishing that Isabel should allow herself to be amused by such an antiquated coxcomb. When they had finished eating they moved about and changed their places. Mr Boncassen being rather anxious to stop the flood of American eloquence which came from his friend Mr Gotobed. British viands had become subject to his criticism, and Mr Gotobed had declared to Mr Lupton that he didn't believe that London could produce a dish of squash tomatoes. He was quite sure you couldn't have sweet corn. Then there had been a moving of seats in which the minister was shuffled off to Lady Beeswax, and the poet found himself by the side of Isabel. 'Do you not regret our mountains and our prairies?' said the poet; 'our great waters and our green savannahs?' 'I think more perhaps of Fifth Avenue,' said Miss Boncassen. Silverbridge, who at this moment was being interrogated by Sir Timothy, heard every word of it.
'I was so sorry, Lord Silverbridge,' said Sir Timothy, 'that you could not accede to our little request.'
'I did not quite see my way,' said Silverbridge, with his eye upon Isabel.
'So I understood, but I hope that things will make themselves clearer to you shortly. There is nothing that I desire so much as the support of young men such as yourself,--the very cream, I may say, of the whole country. It is to the young conservative thoughtfulness and the truly British spirit of our springing aristocracy that I look for that reaction which I am sure will at last carry us safely over the rocks and shoals of communistic propensities.'
'I shouldn't wonder if it did,' said Silverbridge. They didn't think that he was going to remain down there talking politics to an old humbug like Sir Timothy when the sun and moon, and all the stars had gone up into the drawing-room! For at that moment Isabel was making her way to the door.
But Sir Timothy had buttonholed him. 'Of course it is late now to say anything further about that address. We have arranged that.
Not quite as I would have wished, for I had set my heart upon initiating you into the rapturous pleasure of parliamentary debate. But I hope that a good time is coming. And pray remember this, Lord Silverbridge;--there is no member sitting on our side of the House, and I need hardly say on the other, whom I would go farther to oblige than your father's son.'
'I'm sure that's very kind,' said Silverbridge, absolutely using a little force as he disengaged himself. Then at once he followed the ladies upstairs passing the poet on the stairs. 'You have hardly spoken to me,' he whispered to Isabel. He knew that to whisper to her now, with the eyes of so many upon him, with the ears of many open, was an absurdity; but he could not refrain himself.
'There are so many to be,--entertained, as people say! I don't think I ought to have to entertain you,' she answered, laughing.
No one heard her but Silverbridge, yet she did not seem to whisper. She left him, however, at once, and was soon engaged in conversation with Sir Timothy.
