as he rose to go. 'The ball-nights in Ba-ath are moments snatched from
paradise; rendered bewitching by music, beauty, elegance, fashion,
etiquette, and--and--above all, by the absence of tradespeople, who
are quite inconsistent with paradise, and who have an amalgamation of
themselves at the Guildhall every fortnight, which is, to say the least,
remarkable. Good-bye, good-bye!' and protesting all the way downstairs
that he was most satisfied, and most delighted, and most overpowered,
and most flattered, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, M.C., stepped into a
very elegant chariot that waited at the door, and rattled off.
At the appointed hour, Mr. Pickwick and his friends, escorted by Dowler,
repaired to the Assembly Rooms, and wrote their names down in the
book--an instance of condescension at which Angelo Bantam was even more
overpowered than before. Tickets of admission to that evening's assembly
were to have been prepared for the whole party, but as they were not
ready, Mr. Pickwick undertook, despite all the protestations to the
contrary of Angelo Bantam, to send Sam for them at four o'clock in the
afternoon, to the M.C.'s house in Queen Square. Having taken a short
walk through the city, and arrived at the unanimous conclusion that
Park Street was very much like the perpendicular streets a man sees in a
dream, which he cannot get up for the life of him, they returned to the
White Hart, and despatched Sam on the errand to which his master had
pledged him.
Sam Weller put on his hat in a very easy and graceful manner, and,
thrusting his hands in his waistcoat pockets, walked with great
deliberation to Queen Square, whistling as he went along, several of the
most popular airs of the day, as arranged with entirely new movements
for that noble instrument the organ, either mouth or barrel. Arriving
at the number in Queen Square to which he had been directed, he left off
whistling and gave a cheerful knock, which was instantaneously answered
by a powdered-headed footman in gorgeous livery, and of symmetrical
stature.
'Is this here Mr. Bantam's, old feller?' inquired Sam Weller, nothing
abashed by the blaze of splendour which burst upon his sight in the
person of the powdered-headed footman with the gorgeous livery.
'Why, young man?' was the haughty inquiry of the powdered-headed
footman.
''Cos if it is, jist you step in to him with that 'ere card, and say Mr.
Veller's a-waitin', will you?' said Sam. And saying it, he very coolly
walked into the hall, and sat down.
The powdered-headed footman slammed the door very hard, and scowled very
grandly; but both the slam and the scowl were lost upon Sam, who was
regarding a mahogany umbrella-stand with every outward token of critical
approval.
Apparently his master's reception of the card had impressed the
powdered-headed footman in Sam's favour, for when he came back from
delivering it, he smiled in a friendly manner, and said that the answer
would be ready directly.
'Wery good,' said Sam. 'Tell the old gen'l'm'n not to put himself in a
perspiration. No hurry, six-foot. I've had my dinner.'
'You dine early, sir,' said the powdered-headed footman.
'I find I gets on better at supper when I does,' replied Sam.
'Have you been long in Bath, sir?' inquired the powdered-headed footman.
'I have not had the pleasure of hearing of you before.'
'I haven't created any wery surprisin' sensation here, as yet,' rejoined
Sam, 'for me and the other fash'nables only come last night.'
'Nice place, Sir,' said the powdered-headed footman.
'Seems so,' observed Sam.
'Pleasant society, sir,' remarked the powdered-headed footman. 'Very
agreeable servants, sir.'
'I should think they wos,' replied Sam. 'Affable, unaffected,
say-nothin'-to-nobody sorts o' fellers.'
'Oh, very much so, indeed, sir,' said the powdered-headed footman,
taking Sam's remarks as a high compliment. 'Very much so indeed. Do you
do anything in this way, Sir?' inquired the tall footman, producing a
small snuff-box with a fox's head on the top of it.
'Not without sneezing,' replied Sam.
'Why, it IS difficult, sir, I confess,' said the tall footman. 'It may
be done by degrees, Sir. Coffee is the best practice. I carried coffee,
Sir, for a long time. It looks very like rappee, sir.'
Here, a sharp peal at the bell reduced the powdered-headed footman to
the ignominious necessity of putting the fox's head in his pocket, and
hastening with a humble countenance to Mr. Bantam's 'study.' By the bye,
who ever knew a man who never read or wrote either, who hadn't got some
small back parlour which he WOULD call a study!
'There is the answer, sir,' said the powdered-headed footman. 'I'm
afraid you'll find it inconveniently large.'
'Don't mention it,' said Sam, taking a letter with a small enclosure.
'It's just possible as exhausted natur' may manage to surwive it.'
'I hope we shall meet again, Sir,' said the powdered-headed footman,
rubbing his hands, and following Sam out to the door-step.
'You are wery obligin', sir,' replied Sam. 'Now, don't allow yourself to
be fatigued beyond your powers; there's a amiable bein'. Consider what
you owe to society, and don't let yourself be injured by too much work.
For the sake o' your feller-creeturs, keep yourself as quiet as you can;
only think what a loss you would be!' With these pathetic words, Sam
Weller departed.
'A very singular young man that,' said the powdered-headed footman,
looking after Mr. Weller, with a countenance which clearly showed he
could make nothing of him.
Sam said nothing at all. He winked, shook his head, smiled, winked
again; and, with an expression of countenance which seemed to denote
that he was greatly amused with something or other, walked merrily away.
At precisely twenty minutes before eight o'clock that night, Angelo
Cyrus Bantam, Esq., the Master of the Ceremonies, emerged from his
chariot at the door of the Assembly Rooms in the same wig, the same
teeth, the same eye-glass, the same watch and seals, the same rings, the
same shirt-pin, and the same cane. The only observable alterations in
his appearance were, that he wore a brighter blue coat, with a white
silk lining, black tights, black silk stockings, and pumps, and a white
waistcoat, and was, if possible, just a thought more scented.
Thus attired, the Master of the Ceremonies, in strict discharge of the
important duties of his all-important office, planted himself in the
room to receive the company.
Bath being full, the company, and the sixpences for tea, poured in, in
shoals. In the ballroom, the long card-room, the octagonal card-room,
the staircases, and the passages, the hum of many voices, and the sound
of many feet, were perfectly bewildering. Dresses rustled, feathers
waved, lights shone, and jewels sparkled. There was the music--not of
the quadrille band, for it had not yet commenced; but the music of soft,
tiny footsteps, with now and then a clear, merry laugh--low and
gentle, but very pleasant to hear in a female voice, whether in Bath
or elsewhere. Brilliant eyes, lighted up with pleasurable expectation,
gleamed from every side; and, look where you would, some exquisite form
glided gracefully through the throng, and was no sooner lost, than it
was replaced by another as dainty and bewitching.
In the tea-room, and hovering round the card-tables, were a vast number
of queer old ladies, and decrepit old gentlemen, discussing all the
small talk and scandal of the day, with a relish and gusto which
sufficiently bespoke the intensity of the pleasure they derived from the
occupation. Mingled with these groups, were three or four match-making
mammas, appearing to be wholly absorbed by the conversation in which
they were taking part, but failing not from time to time to cast an
anxious sidelong glance upon their daughters, who, remembering the
maternal injunction to make the best use of their youth, had already
commenced incipient flirtations in the mislaying scarves, putting on
gloves, setting down cups, and so forth; slight matters apparently,
but which may be turned to surprisingly good account by expert
practitioners.
Lounging near the doors, and in remote corners, were various knots of
silly young men, displaying various varieties of puppyism and stupidity;
amusing all sensible people near them with their folly and conceit; and
happily thinking themselves the objects of general admiration--a wise
and merciful dispensation which no good man will quarrel with.
And lastly, seated on some of the back benches, where they had already
taken up their positions for the evening, were divers unmarried ladies
past their grand climacteric, who, not dancing because there were no
partners for them, and not playing cards lest they should be set down as
irretrievably single, were in the favourable situation of being able to
abuse everybody without reflecting on themselves. In short, they could
abuse everybody, because everybody was there. It was a scene of gaiety,
glitter, and show; of richly-dressed people, handsome mirrors, chalked
floors, girandoles and wax-candles; and in all parts of the scene,
gliding from spot to spot in silent softness, bowing obsequiously to
this party, nodding familiarly to that, and smiling complacently on all,
was the sprucely-attired person of Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, the
Master of the Ceremonies.
'Stop in the tea-room. Take your sixpenn'orth. Then lay on hot water,
and call it tea. Drink it,' said Mr. Dowler, in a loud voice, directing
Mr. Pickwick, who advanced at the head of the little party, with Mrs.
Dowler on his arm. Into the tea-room Mr. Pickwick turned; and catching
sight of him, Mr. Bantam corkscrewed his way through the crowd and
welcomed him with ecstasy.
'My dear Sir, I am highly honoured. Ba-ath is favoured. Mrs. Dowler, you
embellish the rooms. I congratulate you on your feathers. Re-markable!'
'Anybody here?' inquired Dowler suspiciously.
'Anybody! The ELITE of Ba-ath. Mr. Pickwick, do you see the old lady in
the gauze turban?'
'The fat old lady?' inquired Mr. Pickwick innocently.
'Hush, my dear sir--nobody's fat or old in Ba-ath. That's the Dowager
Lady Snuphanuph.'
'Is it, indeed?' said Mr. Pickwick.
'No less a person, I assure you,' said the Master of the
Ceremonies. 'Hush. Draw a little nearer, Mr. Pickwick. You see the
splendidly-dressed young man coming this way?'
'The one with the long hair, and the particularly small forehead?'
inquired Mr. Pickwick.
'The same. The richest young man in Ba-ath at this moment. Young Lord
Mutanhed.'
'You don't say so?' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Yes. You'll hear his voice in a moment, Mr. Pickwick. He'll speak to
me. The other gentleman with him, in the red under-waistcoat and dark
moustache, is the Honourable Mr. Crushton, his bosom friend. How do you
do, my Lord?'
'Veway hot, Bantam,' said his Lordship.
'It IS very warm, my Lord,' replied the M.C.
'Confounded,' assented the Honourable Mr. Crushton.
'Have you seen his Lordship's mail-cart, Bantam?' inquired the
Honourable Mr. Crushton, after a short pause, during which young Lord
Mutanhed had been endeavouring to stare Mr. Pickwick out of countenance,
and Mr. Crushton had been reflecting what subject his Lordship could
talk about best.
'Dear me, no,' replied the M.C.'A mail-cart! What an excellent idea.
Re-markable!'
'Gwacious heavens!' said his Lordship, 'I thought evewebody had seen the
new mail-cart; it's the neatest, pwettiest, gwacefullest thing that ever
wan upon wheels. Painted wed, with a cweam piebald.'
'With a real box for the letters, and all complete,' said the Honourable
Mr. Crushton.
'And a little seat in fwont, with an iwon wail, for the dwiver,' added
his Lordship. 'I dwove it over to Bwistol the other morning, in a
cwimson coat, with two servants widing a quarter of a mile behind; and
confound me if the people didn't wush out of their cottages, and awest
my pwogwess, to know if I wasn't the post. Glorwious--glorwious!'
At this anecdote his Lordship laughed very heartily, as did the
listeners, of course. Then, drawing his arm through that of the
obsequious Mr. Crushton, Lord Mutanhed walked away.
'Delightful young man, his Lordship,' said the Master of the Ceremonies.
'So I should think,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick drily.
The dancing having commenced, the necessary introductions having
been made, and all preliminaries arranged, Angelo Bantam rejoined Mr.
Pickwick, and led him into the card-room.
Just at the very moment of their entrance, the Dowager Lady Snuphanuph
and two other ladies of an ancient and whist-like appearance, were
hovering over an unoccupied card-table; and they no sooner set eyes
upon Mr. Pickwick under the convoy of Angelo Bantam, than they exchanged
glances with each other, seeing that he was precisely the very person
they wanted, to make up the rubber.
'My dear Bantam,' said the Dowager Lady Snuphanuph coaxingly, 'find
us some nice creature to make up this table; there's a good soul.'
Mr. Pickwick happened to be looking another way at the moment, so her
Ladyship nodded her head towards him, and frowned expressively.
'My friend Mr. Pickwick, my Lady, will be most happy, I am sure,
remarkably so,' said the M.C., taking the hint. 'Mr. Pickwick, Lady
Snuphanuph--Mrs. Colonel Wugsby--Miss Bolo.'
Mr. Pickwick bowed to each of the ladies, and, finding escape
