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Here we have a description of Blakesware, the home of the Plumers, which for many years was uninhabited by the family, and left from 1778 to 1792 in the sole charge of Mrs. Field, Charles and Mary's maternal grandmother. Charles, since he was born in 1775, would on his visits have known no power superior to his grandmother; but Mary, who was born in 1764, would have occasionally encountered Mrs.
Plumer had consented to accept an invitation to a little supper at his rooms very small and very select; Mrs. Newt, of course, to be present. The Plumers arrived, and Laura Magot; but a note from mamma excused her absence papa somewhat indisposed, and so forth; and Mr. Abel himself so sorry but Mrs. Plumer knows what these husbands are! Meanwhile the ladies have thrown off their shawls.
His lameness was caused by the fall of a stone in 1796, but I doubt if the leg were really amputated. The description in this essay of Blakesware, the seat of the Plumers, is supplemented by the essay entitled "Blakesmoor in H shire."
By Blakesmoor Lamb meant Blakesware, the manor-house near Widford, in Hertfordshire, where his grandmother, Mary Field, had been housekeeper for many years. Compare the essay "Dream-Children." Blakesware, which was built by Sir Francis Leventhorpe about 1640, became the property of the Plumers in 1683, being then purchased by John Plumer, of New Windsor, who died in 1718.
Two Lords whose names if I should quote, Some folks might call me sinner: The one invented half a coat, The other half a dinner. Such lords as these are useful men, Heaven sends them to console one; Because there's now not one in ten, That can procure a whole one. Plumer. Lamb was peculiarly interested in the Plumers from the fact that his grandmother, Mrs.
"God bless you, Amy dear!" were the words that unconsciously stole to his lips; and going into the office, Lawrence Newt told Thomas Tray that he should not return that afternoon, wished his clerks good-day, and hurried around the corner into Front Street. ABEL NEWT, vice SLIGO MOULTRIE REMOVED. The Plumers were at Bunker's.
And they talk together freely of all people in the world, except the Plumers of New Orleans. In Abel's room of an evening, at a late hour, when a party of youth are smoking, there are many allusions to the pretty Plumer to which it happens that Newt and Moultrie make only a general reply.
"Good-night, Moultrie thank you; and pleasant dreams." The young Georgian skips up the street, thinking only of Grace Plumer's last words. Abel Newt stands at his door for a moment, remembering them also, and perfectly understanding them. The next instant he is shawling and cloaking the other ladies, who follow the Plumers; among them Mrs. Dagon, who says, softly, "Good-night, Abel.
The Plumers will try to prevent him from making it. Wells and Shaw and the serious sixpenny weeklies will sit on its head.
The friendly relations of Abel and Sligo have not been disturbed. They seem, indeed, of late to have become even strengthened. At least the young men meet oftener; not infrequently in Mrs. Plumer's parlor. Somehow they are aware of each other's movements; somehow, if one calls upon the Plumers, or drives with them, or walks with them alone, the other knows it.
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