COLDSTREAM.
October 22, 1859.]
343
present time he devoted much attention to buff
waistcoats and gauze neck -ties, braided coats, and
curled mustachios.
Such as he is, however, he is an object of interest to the feminine portion of the party at Ravelstoke Hall; for he is rich and handsome, as well as mysterious, and he cannot be more than two -and -thirty. And the ladies at Ravelstoke outnumber the men: for although it is still rare for the fair sex to participate actively in the saturnalia of the partridge-god, they will always be found hovering in considerable numbers on the outskirts of the feast: and the varieties of the British lady are fairly represented.
There are some mammas with daughters to marry, and there are some daughters with a mamma to prevent marrying again, which is, per- haps, the most difficult tiling of the two, as she has an income in her own right. There are blondes and brunettes, and. pretty, brown-haired, brown- eyed girls who hover between the two orders, and combine the most dangerous characteristics of both, who can wear both blue and pink, and who look prettier in the one colour than they do in the other; but who always command your suffrage in favour of that which they are wearing when you look at them.
And there is Constance Baynton with grey eyes and black hair. And the nicest critic of feminine appearance might be defied to state what she had worn, half an hour after he left her; for no one can ever look at anything except her face.
Yet Constance is three-and- twenty, and still unmarried. Alas, what cowards men are! The fact is that Constance is very clever; but as Mrs. Melliah (the widow) says, “not clever enough to hide it.”
Is she a little vexed at her present condition? Certainly she does not exhibit any tendency to carry out Mrs. Mellish’s suggestion, if it has ever been repeated to her. The young men are more afraid of her than ever; and certainly she does say very sharp things, sometimes. Especially she is severe upon idlers, the butterflies of fashionable existence. She appears to consider that she has a special mission to arouse them; but they do not appear to like being lectured. With the young ladies she is a great favourite, for she is very affec- tionate; and though so beautiful and distinguished, she has proved herself to be not so dangerous a rival as might have been expected. Indeed, it has happened, more than once, that male admiration, rebounding from the hard surface of her manner, has found more yielding metal in the bosoms of her particular friends. Besides, she is always ready to lead the van in the general attack upon the male sex, when the ladies retire to the drawing-room.
Not that she ever says anything behind their backs she would not be ready to repeat to their faces; but in that course probably she would not meet with such general support.
In Mr. Tyrawley she affected to disbelieve. She stated as her opinion to her intimate friends, that she did not believe he ever had done, or ever would do anything worth doing; but that he plumed himself on a cheap reputation, which, as all were ignorant of its foundation, no one could possibly impugn.
There is reason to believe that in this instance
Miss Constance was not as conscientious as usual;
but that she really entertained a higher opinion of
the gentleman than she chose to confess. He cer-
tainly was not afraid of her, and had even dared
to contradict her favourite theory of the general
worthlessness of English gentlemen of the nine-
teenth century. It was one wet morning when
she had been reading Scott to three or four of her
particular friends, — and it must be confessed that
she read remarkably well, — that she began to
lament the decline of chivalry. Tyrawley was
sitting half in and half out of range. Perhaps
she talked a little at him. At any rate he chose
to accept the challenge.
“I cannot agree with you. Miss Baynton,” he said. “It is true we no longer wear ladies’ gloves in our helmets, nor do we compel harmless indi- viduals, who possibly may have sweethearts of their own, to admit the superiority of our lady love at the point of the lance; but of all that was good in chivalry, of courage, truth, honour, enterprise, self-sacrifice, you will find as much in the nineteenth century as in the twelfth.”
He brightened up as he spoke, and it was quite evident that he believed what he said, a circum- stance which always gives an advantage to a dis- putant.
More than one pair of bright eyes smiled approval, and Miss Constance saw a probability of a defection from her ranks. She changed her tactics.
“You are too moderate in your claims for your contemporaries, Mr. Tyrawley. If I remember right, modesty has always been considered a quali- fication of a true knight.”
“I am not ashamed to speak the truth,” he replied; “your theory would have been more tenable before the days of the Crimean war and the Indian mutiny; but the men who lit their cigars in the trenches of the Redan, and who carried the gate of Delhi, may bear comparison with Bayard, or Cceur de Lion.”
“Oh! I do not allude to our soldiers,” said she, “of course, I know they are brave; but,” — and here she hesitated a moment, till possibly piqued because her usual success had not attended her in the passage of arms, she concluded,— “but to our idle gentlemen, who seem to have no heart for anything.”
Tyrawley smiled. “Possibly you may judge too much by the outside,” he said. 44 I am inclined to fancy that some of those whom you are pleased to call idle gentlemen would be found to have heart enough for anything that honour, or duty, or even chivalry, could find for them to do.”
“I hope you are right,” said Miss Constance, with a slightly perceptible curl of her upper lip, which implied that she did not think so.
Tyrawley bowed, and the conversation termi- nated a few minutes afterwards; when he had left the room, the conversation of the young ladies was interrupted by Master George Baynton, aged fourteen, who suddenly attacked his sister.
“I think you are wrong, you know, when you call Tyrawley a humbug.”
“My dear,” said Constance, with a start, 44 I never said anything so ru — .”
“Well, you implied it, you know, in your girl’s