Читать книгу The storm of London: a social rhapsody онлайн

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The guides had a hard time of it in trying to bring their pupils out of that reserve so dear to the race, and they found great difficulty in making them act with more initiative. As long as the guide was at hand, it was all well, but when left to themselves, lady pupils and gentlemen students could not be brought to use their own judgment, and boldly venture to recognise people without the guide’s help, so fearful were they of committing social blunders. Still, Danford was sanguine; he kept saying that if the British lion had, in a fortnight, conquered the sense of shame, he would, in a few days more, throw pride to the four winds. He turned out to be quite right, for in ten days more London was launching out into a whirlpool of festivities.

The little buffoon was very entertaining, and kept his pupil in fits of laughter, relating his various experiences in the smart circles of London. Over and over again a pleading voice whispered to him in the Park or at a party, “Oh dear Mr Danford, I wish you would look in to-morrow at my small tea-fight. Do you think Lord Somerville could spare you for an hour or two? His father was such an old friend of mine. I have asked a very few people, but after the butler’s announcement I shall never know one from another—hi! hi! hi!” Another would in a deep, rough voice tell him to run in at luncheon Friday next: “Mrs Bilton is simply longing to meet you; she has a daft daughter who persists in taking the footman for her pa—very awkward, isn’t it? I am sure, Mr Danford, you would teach her in a few lessons how to recognise her dad, for the girl is rather quick otherwise.” “Ah, madam,” had replied the smart little guide, “it takes a very wise girl to know her own father in our present Society; I have seen strange instances of divination, and in many cases the girl, instead of a duffer, turned out to be too wise.” Or else a distracted and jealous wife who could not distinguish her lord and master in the crowd, appealed to the mimic, imploring him to tell her by what special sign she might know him again. To which Dick ironically answered that he was not teaching people how to see moles, freckles and scars on human bodies, but was instructing them in the art of physiognomy.