All Sorts and Conditions of Men: An Impossible Story

"Who is the old gentleman opposite?" he whispered to Nelly.

"That is my father; he was a captain once, and commanded a great ship."

"I thought so," said Lord Jocelyn. "I remember him, but he has forgotten me."

Next to the captain sat Rebekah, looking prepared for any fate, and not unduly uplifted by the splendor of the scene. But for her, as well as for nearly all who were present, the word dinner will henceforth have a new and exalted meaning. The length of the feast, the number of things offered, the appointments of the table, struck her imagination; she thought of Belshazzar and of Herod; such as the feast before her were those feasts of old; she tasted the champagne, and it took away her breath; yet it seemed good. Mr. Goslett seemed to think so too, because he drank so many glasses.

So did the others, and, being inexperienced in wine, they drank with more valor than discretion, so that they began to talk loud, but that was not till later.

"Do people – rich people – always dine like this?" asked Nelly of her neighbor.

"Something like this; yes, that is, some such dinner, though simpler, is always prepared for them."

"I was thinking," she said, "how differently people live. I would rather live in our way – with Miss Kennedy – than in so much grandeur."

"Grandeur soon becomes a matter of habit. But as for Miss Kennedy, you cannot live always with her, can you?"

"Why not?"

"Well, she may marry, you know."

Nelly looked across the table at Harry.

"I suppose she will; we all of us hope she will, if it is to stay with us; but that need not take her away from us."

"Do you know Miss Messenger?"

"No," said Nelly; "she has been very kind to us; she is our best customer, she sends us all sorts of kind messages, and presents even; and she sends us her love and best wishes; I think she must be very fond of Miss Kennedy. She promises to come some day and visit us. Whenever I think of Miss Messenger, I think, somehow, that she must be like Miss Kennedy; only I cannot understand Miss Kennedy being rich and the owner of this great house."

When the ladies retired, at length, it became manifest that Josephus had taken more wine than was good for him. He laughed loudly; he told everybody that he was going to begin all over again, classes and lectures and everything, including the Sunday-school and the church membership. The professor, who, for his part, seemed indisposed for conversation, retained the mastery over his fingers, and began to prepare little tricks, and presently conveyed oranges into Lord Davenant's coat-tails without moving from his chair. And Daniel Fagg, whose cheek was flushed, and whose eyes were sparkling, rose from his chair, and attacked Lord Jocelyn, note-book in hand.

"Is your lo'ship," he began, with a perceptible thickness of speech – Lord Jocelyn recognized him as the man whom he had accosted at Stepney Green, and who subsequently took dinner with the girls – "is your lo'ship int'rested in Hebrew schriptions?"

"Very much indeed," said Lord Jocelyn, politely.

"'Low me to put your lo'ship's name down for schription, twelve-and-six? Book will come out next month, Miss Ken'dy says so."

"Put up your book, Daniel," said Harry sternly, "and sit down."

"I want – show – his lo'ship – a Hebrew schription."

He sat down, however, obediently, and immediately fell fast asleep.

Said Lord Jocelyn to Captain Sorensen:

"I remember you, captain, very well indeed, but you have forgotten me. Were you not in command of the Sussex in the year of the Mutiny? Did you not take me out with the 120th?"

"To be sure – to be sure I did; and I remember your lordship very well, and am very glad to find you remember me. You were younger then."

"I was; and how goes it with you now, captain? Cheerfully as of old?"

"Ay, ay, my lord. I'm in the Trinity Almshouse, and my daughter is with Miss Kennedy, bless her! Therefore I've nothing to complain of."

"May I call upon you, some day, to talk over old times? You used to sing a good song in those days, and play a good tune, and dance a good dance."

"Come, my lord, as often as you like," he replied in great good-humor. "The cabin is small, but it's cozy, and the place is hard to get at."

"It is the queerest dinner I ever had, Harry," Lord Jocelyn whispered. "I like our old captain and his daughter. Is the hard-hearted dressmaker prettier than Nellie?"

"Prettier! why, there is no comparison possible."

"Yet Nelly hath a pleasing manner."

"Miss Kennedy turns all her girls into ladies. Come and see her."

"Perhaps, Harry, perhaps; when she is no longer hard-hearted; when she has named the happy day."

"This evening," said Lady Davenant, when they joined her, "will be one that I never can forget. For I've had my old friends round me, who were kind in our poverty and neglect; and now I've your lordship, too, who belongs to the new time. So that it is a joining together, as it were, and one don't feel like stepping out of our place into another quite different, as I shall tell Aurelia, who says she is afraid that splendor may make me forget old friends; whereas there is nobody I should like to have with us this moment better than Aurelia. But perhaps she judges others by herself."

"Lor!" cried Mrs. Bormalack, "to hear your ladyship go on! It's like an angel of goodness."

"And the only thing that vexes me – it's enough to spoil it all – is that Miss Kennedy couldn't come. Ah! my lord, if you had only seen Miss Kennedy! Rebekah and Nelly are two good girls and pretty, but you are not to compare with Miss Kennedy – are you, dears?"

They both shook their heads, and were not offended.

It was past eleven when they left to go home in cabs; one contained the sleeping forms of Josephus and Mr. Fagg; the next contained Captain Sorensen and Nelly, with Harry. The Professor, who had partly revived, came with Mrs. Bormalack and Rebekah in the last.

"You seemed to know Lord Jocelyn, Mr. Goslett," said the captain.

"I ought to," replied Harry simply; "he gave me my education."

"He was always a brave and generous officer, I remember," the captain went on. "Yes, I remember him well; all the men would have followed him everywhere. Well, he says he will come and see me."

"Then he will come," said Harry, "if he said so."

"Very good; if he comes, he shall see Miss Kennedy too."

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE END OF THE CASE

This dinner, to which her ladyship will always look back with the liveliest satisfaction, was the climax, the highest point, so to speak, of her greatness, which was destined to have a speedy fall. Angela asked Lord Jocelyn to read through the papers and advise. She told him of the professor's discovery, and of the book which had belonged to the wheelwright, and everything. Of course the opinion which he formed was exactly that formed by Angela herself, and he told her so.

"I have asked them to my house," Angela wrote, "because I want them to go home to their own people with pleasant recollections of their stay in London. I should like them to feel, not that their claim had broken down, and that they were defeated, but that it had been examined, and was held to be not proven. I should be very sorry if I thought that the little lady would cease to believe in her husband's illustrious descent. Will you help me to make her keep her faith as far as possible and go home with as little disappointment as possible?"

"I will try," said Lord Jocelyn.

He wrote to Lady Davenant that he had given careful consideration to the Case, and had taken opinions, which was also true, because he made a lawyer, a herald, and a peer all read the documents, and write him a letter on the subject. He dictated all three letters, it is true; but there is generally something to conceal in this world of compromises.