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Last night, after moving heaven and earth to get an invitation to Madame de Brie I say, heaven and earth, that is a French phrase I arrive there; I find Miss Newcome engaged for almost every dance, waltzing with M. de Klingenspohr, galloping with Count de Capri, galloping and waltzing with the most noble the Marquis of Farintosh.
"And yonder young person?" "Mr. Court-architect's daughter; the Fraulein Dorothea." Dorothea looked up from her novel here, and turned her face towards the stranger who was passing, and then blushing turned it down again. Schnabel looked at me with a scowl, Klingenspohr with a simper, the dog with a yelp, the fat lady in blue just gave one glance, and seemed, I thought, rather well pleased.
"None but a compatriot," his Excellency declared, "could have performed that majestic dance in such a way." Then she figured in a waltz with Monsieur de Klingenspohr, the Prince of Peterwaradin's cousin and attache.
And when a woman has had nine children, you know, she looks none the younger; and I can tell ye that when she trod on my corruns at a ball at the Grand Juke's, I felt something heavier than a feather on my foot." "Madame de Klingenspohr, then," replied I, hesitating somewhat, "has grown rather rather st-st-out?" I could hardly get out the OUT, and trembled I don't know why as I asked the question.
I called at old Speck's house and apologized for my clumsiness, with the most admirable coolness; I appeared at court, and stated calmly that I did not intend to dance any more; and when Klingenspohr grinned, I told that young gentleman such a piece of my mind as led to his wearing a large sticking-plaster patch on his nose: which was split as neatly down the middle as you would split an orange at dessert.
But still the recurrence of it would leave in her heart a vague, indefinite feeling of pain, and somehow she began to understand that her empire was passing away, and that her dear friend hated her like poison; and so she married Klingenspohr.
Thus, in a word, though Dorothea and I did not, probably, on the first night of our meeting, talk of anything more than the weather, or trumps, or some subjects which to such listeners as Schnabel and Klingenspohr and others might appear quite ordinary, yet to US they had a different signification, of which Love alone held the key.
Madame Speck said they always drank it; and so placing a teaspoonful of bohea in a cauldron of water, she placidly handed out this decoction, which we took with cakes and tartines. I leave you to imagine how disgusted Klingenspohr and Schnabel looked when they stepped in as usual that evening to make their party of whist with the Speck family!
There it was, the little neat, pretty handwriting, the dear old up-and-down strokes that I had not looked at for many a long year, the Mediterranean heath, which grew on the sunniest banks of Fitz-Boodle's existence, and here found, dear, dear little sprig! in rude Galwagian bog-lands. Klingenspohr, born v. "Look at the other side of the paper!" I did, and what do you think I saw?
Schlippenschlopp, the Muse of Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickel, the friendly little town far away in Sachsenland, where old Speck built the town pump, where Klingenspohr was slashed across the nose, where Dorothea rolled over and over in that horrible waltz with Fitz-Boo Psha! away with the recollection; but wasn't it strange to get news of Ottilia in the wildest corner of Ireland, where I never should have thought to hear her gentle name?
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