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Updated: June 20, 2025
I had a folded gauze veil over my head, tied at the chin in a bow. Some one ran up to me Lord Brailstone. He poured forth their poetry. They suppose it the wine for their "beautiful woman." I dare say I laughed or told him to go, and he began a tirade against Lord Fleetwood. There's no mighty difference between one beast of prey and another. Let me get away from them all!
I remember Lord Fleetwood looking over his shoulder and smiling hard and lashing his horses. But listen yes, at Calesford it happened. He oh, hear the name, then; Chillon must never hear it; Lord Brailstone was denied the right to step on Lord Fleetwood's grounds. The Opera company had finished selections from my Pirata. I went out for cool air; little Sir Meeson beside me.
The unsuspecting fellow, soon to be despatched in the suite of Brailstone, bore away an unwontedly affectionate dismissal to his bed, and spoke some rather squeamish words himself, as he recollected with disgust when he ran about over London repeating his executioner's.
The courtly Frenchman won the ladies to join him in whipping the cream of the world for five minutes, and passed out before his flavour was exhausted. Brailstone took his lesson and departed, to spy at them from other boxes and heave an inflated shirt-front. Young Cressett, the bottle of effervescence, dashed in, and for him Livia's face was motherly.
Carinthia said to her: 'He is brave. 'Oh yes, he's brave, Madge assented. Lord Brailstone, flourishing his whip, cried out: 'At Canleys to-night? The earl nodded: 'I shall be there. 'You, too, Chummy? came from Abrane. 'To see you dance, Potts rejoined, and mumbled 'But will he dance! Old Braney's down on his luck; he's a specimen of a fellow emptier and not lighter.
Mallard and Chumley Potts, Captain Abrane, Sir Meeson Corby, Lord Brailstone, were plucked at and rattled, put to the blush, by a pursuit of inquiries conducted with beaks. High-nosed dames will surpass eminent judges in their temerity on the border-line where Ahem sounds the warning note to curtained decency. The courtly M. de St. Ombre had to stand confused.
Brailstone and Fleetwood jumped to the grass and met, talking and laughing, precise upon points of business, otherwise cordial: plenipotentiaries of great powers, whom they have set in motion and bind to the ceremonial opening steps, according to the rules of civilized warfare.
'You're right, right, said Fleetwood, in sympathy, resigned to the prospect of despising his associates without a handy helper. He named Esslemont once, shot up a look at the sky, and glanced it Eastward. Three coaches were bound for Sunbury from a common starting-point at nine of the morning. Lord Fleetwood, Lord Brailstone, and Lord Simon Pitscrew were the whips.
'Signor Columelli sings divinely. 'You don't dislike Brailstone? 'He is one of the agreeable. 'He must put his feelings into Italian song! 'To put them aside will do. 'We are not to have our feelings? 'Yes, on the proviso that ours are respected. But, one instant, Lord Fleetwood, pray. She is I have to speak of her as my sister. I am sure she regrets . . . She writes very nicely.
'How about Lord Brailstone's man? 'Female partner in a quadrille, sir. 'Ah! Potts doated on his limbs with a butcher's eye for prize joints. 'Cock-sure has crowed low by sunset, Mallard observed. Fleetwood offered him to take his bets. 'You're heavy on it with Brailstone? said Mallard. 'Three thousand. 'I'd back you for your luck blindfold.
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