Showing How Galgenstein And Mrs. Cat Recognise Each Other In Marylebone
Gardens--And How The Count Drives Her Home In His Carriage
About a month after the touching conversation above related, there was given, at
Marylebone Gardens, a grand concert and entertainment, at which the celebrated
Madame Amenaide, a dancer of the theatre at Paris, was to perform, under the
patronage of several English and foreign noblemen; among whom was his Excellency
the Bavarian Envoy. Madame Amenaide was, in fact, no other than the maitresse en
titre of the Monsieur de Galgenstein, who had her a great bargain from the Duke de
Rohan-Chabot at Paris.
It is not our purpose to make a great and learned display here, otherwise the costumes
of the company assembled at this fete might afford scope for at least half-a-dozen
pages of fine writing; and we might give, if need were, specimens of the very songs and
music sung on the occasion. Does not the Burney collection of music, at the British
Museum, afford one an ample store of songs from which to choose? Are there not the
memoirs of Colley Cibber? those of Mrs. Clark, the daughter of Colley? Is there not
Congreve, and Farquhar--nay, and at a pinch, the "Dramatic Biography," or even the
Spectator, from which the observant genius might borrow passages, and construct
pretty antiquarian figments? Leave we these trifles to meaner souls! Our business is not
with the breeches and periwigs, with the hoops and patches, but with the divine hearts
of men, and the passions which agitate them. What need, therefore, have we to say that
on this evening, after the dancing, the music, and the fireworks, Monsieur de
Galgenstein felt the strange and welcome pangs of appetite, and was picking a cold
chicken, along with some other friends in an arbour--a cold chicken, with an
accompaniment of a bottle of champagne--when he was led to remark that a very
handsome plump little person, in a gorgeous stiff damask gown and petticoat, was
sauntering up and down the walk running opposite his supping-place, and bestowing
continual glances towards his Excellency. The lady, whoever she was, was in a mask,
such as ladies of high and low fashion wore at public places in those days, and had a
male companion. He was a lad of only seventeen, marvellously well dressed--indeed,
no other than the Count's own son, Mr. Thomas Billings; who had at length received
from his mother the silver-hilted sword, and the wig, which that affectionate parent had
promised to him.
In the course of the month which had elapsed since the interview that has been
described in the former chapter, Mr. Billings had several times had occasion to wait on
his father; but though he had, according to her wishes, frequently alluded to the
existence of his mother, the Count had never at any time expressed the slightest wish to
renew his acquaintance with that lady; who, if she had seen him, had only seen him by
stealth.
