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The Absentee
by: Maria Edgeworth
Description:
Excerpt
CHAPTER I
'Are you to be at Lady Clonbrony's gala next week?' said Lady Langdale to Mrs. Dareville, whilst they were waiting for their carriages in the crush-room of the opera house.
'Oh yes! everybody's to be there, I hear,' replied Mrs. Dareville. 'Your ladyship, of course?'
'Why, I don't know—if I possibly can. Lady Clonbrony makes it such a point with me, that I believe I must look in upon her for a few minutes. They are going to a prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho tells me the reception rooms are all to be new furnished, and in the most magnificent style.'
'At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing on,' said Colonel Heathcock. 'Up to anything.'
'Who are they?—these Clonbronies, that one hears of so much of late' said her Grace of Torcaster. 'Irish absentees I know. But how do they support all this enormous expense?'
'The son WILL have a prodigiously fine estate when some Mr. Quin dies,' said Mrs. Dareville.
'Yes, everybody who comes from Ireland WILL have a fine estate when somebody dies,' said her grace. 'But what have they at present?'
'Twenty thousand a year, they say,' replied Mrs. Dareville.
'Ten thousand, I believe,' cried Lady Langdale. 'Make it a rule, you know, to believe only half the world says.'
'Ten thousand, have they?—possibly,' said her grace. 'I know nothing about them—have no acquaintance among the Irish. Torcaster knows something of Lady Clonbrony; she has fastened herself, by some means, upon him: but I charge him not to COMMIT me. Positively, I could not for anybody—and much less for that sort of person—extend the circle of my acquaintance.'
'Now that is so cruel of your grace,' said Mrs. Dareville, laughing, 'when poor Lady Clonbrony works so hard, and pays so high, to get into certain circles.'
'If you knew all she endures, to look, speak, move, breathe like an Englishwoman, you would pity her,' said Lady Langdale.
'Yes, and you CAWNT conceive the PEENS she TEEKES to talk of the TEEBLES and CHEERS, and to thank Q, and, with so much TEESTE, to speak pure English,' said Mrs. Dareville.
'Pure cockney, you mean,' said Lady Langdale.
'But why does Lady Clonbrony want to pass for English?' said the duchess.
'Oh! because she is not quite Irish. BRED AND BORN—only bred, not born,' said Mrs. Dareville. 'And she could not be five minutes in your grace's company before she would tell you, that she was HENGLISH, born in HOXFORDSHIRE.'
'She must be a vastly amusing personage. I should like to meet her, if one could see and hear her incog.,' said the duchess. 'And Lord Clonbrony, what is he?'
'Nothing, nobody,' said Mrs. Dareville; 'one never even hears of him.'
'A tribe of daughters, too, I suppose?'
'No, no,' said Lady Langdale, 'daughters would be past all endurance.'
'There's a cousin, though, a Grace Nugent,' said Mrs. Dareville, 'that Lady Clonbrony has with her.'
'Best part of her, too,' said Colonel Heathcock; 'd-d fine girl!—never saw her look better than at the opera to-night!'
'Fine COMPLEXION! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she means a high colour,' said Lady Langdale....