101.
CHAPTER CI.
THE GRAND ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY THE BARON AT ANDERBURY HOUSE, AND HIS
ANNOUNCEMENT.
The baron made quick work of it, for in five days after the one on which
he took Anderbury House, he gave his first entertainment. Money works
wonders, and in the baron's hands it seemed to have lost none of its magical
power; for Anderbury House in that time was furnished like a palace; rich and
costly were the decorations —the ornamental parts were bold and florid.
The house and grounds were of a most magnificent character, though they
had been viewed as separate features; but when considered as one, as that
which was part and parcel of one great whole, it was truly princely.
Great care, labour, and expense had been exerted to make the mansion one
befitting the habitation of a prince; and the baron himself was looked upon
as little less than a prince; his disregard of money, his liberality, all
concurred in making him looked upon as one of the most popular men in that
neighbourhood.
Indeed, none such as he had ever been seen or heard of in that quarter.
He was safe to be considered as one of the grandees of the day.
Anderbury House was now a theme of conversation with every one in the
whole town. His magnificence, liberality, and all things connected with him,
were all well calculated to cause a feeling of prejudice to be made in his
favour.
When people saw the men that were at work, the loads of articles which
were sent there, they were amazed, and could hardly credit their senses. Then
they all considered how very rich he must be to be able to spend so much in
furniture, in hangings, in beautifying, and in ornamental work, which must
have been very heavy.
The baron was fully determined to do all he had intended to do in the
way of opening his first grand entertainment with great eclat, and in a
manner that would take the whole country by surprise.
The day came; the house was furnished, decorated, filled with servants,
and everything that could make it appear as though it had been for years in
that state.
It is surprising how soon a place can be made to lose all signs of its
ever having been uninhabited, and the fact of human beings being in a place
soon wears away the look of desolation by which it is otherwise enveloped; but
how much easier must it have been, with ample means, for a man like the baron
to cause such a house as that of Anderbury House to become what it was.
The great wonder being, not what was done with ample means, but the short
time in which it had all been collected together, which was done with such
celerity and such small signs of bustle and disturbance, that it appeared as
if performed by the wand of a magician, so sudden and so quiet was it done,
comparatively.
At the end of five days there was a number of invitations fairly written
out and directed, by order of the baron, to the principal inhabitants and
gentry of the place to visit Anderbury House, and partake of a grand banquet
given by the baron to them and his friends on that occasion.
The day was named, and the information supplied by Mr. Leek to the baron,
was of a character that to that individual was extremely valuable, and of
which he freely availed himself.
It must not be imagined that the worthy Mr. Leek was in any way oblivious
of the promise or obligation into which he had entered with Mrs. Williams,
whose name he had taken very great care to insert in the list of invitations
that the baron had sent out.
The evening arrived, and the carriages drove up to Anderbury House in
rapid succession. There were few or none who knew the baron; they were all,
however, anxious, most anxious to see who and what the baron was, who occupied
the estate.
The title and name sounded well, and that was what dwelt upon people's
minds, and made an impression upon them, and they freely accepted the
invitations, especially when they inquired among themselves what was the
extent of invitations that had been issued, and they were confined wholly to
the elite of the place.
What was thought or said upon the occasion, it would be difficult to say,
because it was so various, and there were none who could in any way form an
opinion at all, that wore any appearance of probability about it.
But there was a rumour spread about that he was a foreigner who had
immense riches, desirous of marrying an Englishwoman, and yet unable to obtain
introductions in the usual way, or else he was merely acting in accordance
with the customs and habits of his own country.
The carriage drive of Anderbury House was completely occupied by the
strings of carriages that had taken up and set down for two hours or more, as
rapidly as they could.
The fine apartments that Anderbury House contained, that were destined to
be used for the occasion, were indeed a splendid suit of rooms; but they were
now lit up with chandeliers, and adorned with glasses, and mirrors, and
pictures.
As for the ornamental part of the mansion, it was superb. Nothing had
been spared in expense, and by the way in which that was laid out, it was
evident the baron was a man of taste and judgment, and had converted a
nobleman's residence into a palace.
****
The gentry came dashing up to the door. The place was crowded, and many
were announced, and met and welcomed by the baron, who gave them a cordial and
distinguished greeting.
There were many persons present; there were astonished at the display of
magnificence and wealth of the baron; they were delighted by his reception of
them —his conversation, and general manners; and many, too, were much
astonished by the splendid entertainment which he had provided for them.
All that art or the season could produce was there —superb wines and
liqueurs —fruits —to an extent they had never before contemplated or
thought of.
Anderbury House was without a rival.
The wines were good, and they warmed the blood; and courtesies and
civilities of life were by the aid of the alchemy of old port, splendid and
sparkling champagne, sherries, Burgundies, and other wines, soon turned into
friendships and cordialities.
"Baron," said one of the guests, "you have a superb place, and you
certainly are the proper individual to own such a place."
"And why, my dear sir?" inquired the baron, blandly.
"Because you have the taste and heart to decorate and array the place in
a manner befitting its extent, and you have the hospitality of one of the
ancients of the east."
"Ha! Ha! very good, my dear sir. You are kind, very kind; but I must
admit I do like to see neighbours act honestly, and in good faith with each
other; besides, I am of opinion that man is a social animal, and one who lives
only in society. I cannot be a hermit."
"Right. If the world were all of your opinion —and I believe they are,
practice only is opposed —what a state of kindliness and comfort we should
all be in —I am sure of it."
"Ay, so am I. Do you like music?"
"I do," was the answer.
"Then you shall hear some. We shall have the dance presently, and then
there will be no heart that will not beat in unison with the harmonious
strain."
"I think they deserve not to be here in the centre of happiness, if they
did not."
"Ho! music, there!" said the baron, as he stamped on the floor of the
grand saloon, in which several hundred guests stood.
The call was answered by a loud crash of instrumental music, that came
suddenly and startlingly upon the ears of the guests; but then it was followed
by a lighter strain, with a pretty but marked melody, such a one, that it
instantly communicated to those present, the feeling of being participators,
and even actors, in the scene that was about to be enacted upon the floor.
It required but very little exertion to form the dance, where every one
was willing and anxious to take their places. There was a slight degree of
excitement in the procuring of partners.
Here for a moment the baron was at fault; but, by some means that were
not at that moment explained, or even thought of, Mrs. Williams led the
beautiful Helen past the spot at the moment. He had spoken to her before, and
was well pleased with her. He perceived she was beautiful and amiable. Her
mother, too, was with her, and in another moment the baron stepped forward,
saying, —
"Madam, if the hand of your daughter is not already engaged, I beg
respectfully to claim it for the opening dance?"
Mrs. Williams curseyed with condescension, saying, in reply, —
"Yes, my lord. My daughter is disengaged."
"Miss Williams," said the baron, with much deference, "may I request the
honour of your hand?"
Helen Williams curseyed, and said she was not engaged, and accepted of
his offer with a smile, but with some diffidence.
The baron immediately led her to the top of the room, where, by this
time, there was a perfect lane for them to pass through, until they reached
the top.
All had taken their places by an instinctive sort of feeling that was
almost universal in the ball-room.
The signal was given, and then the baron led Helen down the first dance,
amidst the admiration of all, and the envy of not a few. The giddy whirl of
the dance, the throng of beauty, and the sweet but gay notes of the bands,
added to the coup-d'oeil of the scene —a scene of so much happiness and
gaiety, that there were few who could have looked coldly upon it.
The baron, himself, appeared in the highest spirits, and with the
greatest hospitality he sought to administer to the wants of his guests, every
moment that he could abstract from the present leadership of the dance.
He first visited one, and then the other, until he had made a fair round,
and then he found that the night was far advanced, and that, in but a short
time, he was convinced that daylight would come.
The guests were well pleased with the splendour of the entertainment, and
the profusion that was there. Nothing was wanting. All were well pleased
with the arrangements. Great care and great expense had been gone to to
gratify and pleasure them, and it had succeeded indeed; if it had not, they
would have been captious and ungrateful to an extreme.
The guests, however well pleased with their entertainment, were still
unable to bear up against the excitement and fatigue of pleasure for hours,
and the animal power fails.
Indeed, there is no one sense which may not be exhausted by an
overindulgence; even hearing will, as soon as any other, become invariably
tired by listening too long to music; ay, and even become unable to
distinguish between the different melodies; and the guests began to flag, and
to pay more attention to the side tables, and then to look drowsy, and some
few of the younger spirits appeared to have the dance to themselves.
The baron now saw the proper moment had arrived for dismissing the
company; and, causing the music to cease, he advanced to the middle of the
room, and, waving his hand, said, —
"My honoured guests, the sun begins to peep over the hills, and the
bright car of Phoebus rapidly ascends the skies, telling us that another day
has begun. The happiest mortals must part, and so must we. Let me thank you
all for this kindness, for thus honouring my banquet with your presence, and
let me hope it may often be thus.
"Often, I say. Yes, fair ladies, your presence will always be a
distinguished honour. While I am a bachelor, I shall continue these fetes
once a fortnight regularly, until somebody takes the arrangement of such
matters out of my hands, by legally assuming the title of baroness."
There was a long pause after this announcement, and then a sudden buzz of
admiration, which was heard on all sides; and the ladies looked at each other,
the baron, and the magnificent place they were in. We cannot tell what passed
in their minds, but a shrewd guess might readily be formed, and to the
performance of that task we leave the reader. There were many courtesies
before the separation was effected, and an hour had passed before the Baron
Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh found himself alone.
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[Description: Ornamental capitalization]