As he went downstairs Eames was still thinking of his meeting with Crosbie, and had as yet hardly said a word to his neighbour, and his neighbour had not said a word to him. Now Johnny understood dinners quite well enough to know that in a party of twelve, among whom six are ladies, everything depends of your next neighbour, and generally on the next neighbour who specially belongs to you; and as he took his seat he was a little alarmed as to his prospect for the next two hours. On his other hand sat Mrs Ponsonby, the barrister's wife, and he did not much like the look of Mrs Ponsonby. She was fat, heavy, and good-looking;with a broad space between her eyes, and light smooth hair;--a youthful British matron every inch of her, of whom any barrister with a young family of children might be proud. Now Miss Demolines, though she was hardly to be called beautiful, was at any rate remarkable. She had large, dark, well-shaped eyes, and very dark hair, which she wore tangled about in an extraordinary manner, and she had an expressive face--a face made expressive by the owner's will. Such power of expression is often attained by dint of labour--though it never reaches to the expression of anything in particular. She was almost sufficiently good-looking to be justified in considering herself a beauty.
But Miss Demolines, though she had said nothing as yet, knew her game very well. A lady cannot begin conversation to any good purpose in the drawing-room, when she is seated and the man is standing;--nor can she know then how the table may subsequently arrange itself. Powder may be wasted, and often is wasted, and the spirit rebels against the necessity of commencing a second enterprise. But Miss Demolines, when she found herself seated, and perceived that on the other side of her was Mr Ponsonby, a married man, commenced her enterprise at once, and our friend John Eames was immediately aware that he would have no difficulty as to conversation.
'Don't you like winter dinner-parties?' began Miss Demolines. This was said just as Johnny was taking his seat, and he had time to declare that he liked dinner-parties at all periods of the year if the dinner was good and the people pleasant before the host had muttered something which was intended to be understood to be a grace. 'But I mean specially the winter,' continued Miss Demolines. 'I don't think daylight should ever be admitted at a dinner-table; and though you may shut out the daylight, you can't shut out the heat. And then there are always so many other things to go to in May and June and July. Dinners should be stopped by Act of Parliament for those three months. I don't care what people do afterwards, because we always fly away on the first of August.'
'That is good-natured on your part.'
'I'm sure what I say would be for the good of society;--but at this time of the year a dinner is warm and comfortable.'
'Very comfortable, I think.'
'And people get to know each other';--in saying which Miss Demolines looked very pleasantly into Johnny's face.
'There is a great deal in that,' said he. 'I wonder whether you and Iwill get to know each other.'
'Of course we shall;--that is, if I'm worth knowing.'
'There can be no doubt about that, I should say.'
'Time alone can tell. But, Mr Eames, I see that Mr Crosbie is a friend of yours.'
'Hardly a friend.'
'I know very well that men are friends when they step up and shake hands with each other. It is the same when women kiss.'
'When I see women kiss, I always think there is deep hatred at the bottom of it.'
'And there may be deep hatred between you and Mr Crosbie for anything Iknow to the contrary,' said Miss Demolines.
'The very deepest,' said Johnny, pretending to look grave.
'Ah; then I know he is your bosom friend, and that you will tell him anything I say. What a strange history that was of his marriage.'
'So I have heard;--but he is not quite bosom friend enough with me to have told me all the particulars. I know that his wife is dead.'
'Dead; oh, yes; she has been dead these two years I should say.'
'Not so long as that, I should think.'
'Well--perhaps not. But it's ever so long ago;--quite long enough for him to be married again. Did you know her?'
'I never saw her in my life.'
'I knew her--not well indeed; but I am intimate with her sister, Lady Amelia Gazebee, and I have met her there. None of that family have married what you may call well. And now, Mr Eames, pray look at the menu and tell me what I am to eat. Arrange for me a little dinner of my own, out of the great bill of fare provided. I always expect some gentleman to do that for me. Mr Crosbie, you know, only lived with his wife for one month.'
'So I've been told.'
'And a terrible month they had of it. I used to hear of it. He doesn't look that sort of man, does he?'
'Well;--no. I don't think he does. But what sort of man do you mean?'
'Why, such a regular Bluebeard! Of course you know how he treated another girl before he married Lady Alexandrina. She died of it--with a broken heart; absolutely died; and there he is, indifferent as possible;--and would treat me in the same way tomorrow if I would let him.'
Johnny Eames, finding it impossible to talk to Miss Demolines about Lily Dale, took up the card of the dinner and went to work in earnest, recommending his neighbour what to eat and what to pass by. 'But you have skipped the pate?' said she, with energy.
'Allow me to ask you to choose mine for me instead. You are much more fit to do it.' And she did choose his dinner for him.