Many a
county beauty had first swung through the minuet that she
afterwards danced before Queen Charlotte in this very room. It was
said that one of the Gunnings had graced the apartment with her
beauty; it was certain that a rich and beautiful widow, Lady
Williams, had here been smitten with the noble figure of a young
artist, who was staying with some family in the neighbourhood for
professional purposes, and accompanied his patrons to the Cranford
Assembly. And a pretty bargain poor Lady Williams had of her
handsome husband, if all tales were true. Now, no beauty blushed
and dimpled along the sides of the Cranford Assembly Room; no
handsome artist won hearts by his bow, chapeau bras in hand; the
old room was dingy; the salmon-coloured paint had faded into a
drab; great pieces of plaster had chipped off from the fine wreaths
and festoons on its walls; but still a mouldy odour of aristocracy
lingered about the place, and a dusty recollection of the days that
were gone made Miss Matty and Mrs Forrester bridle up as they
entered, and walk mincingly up the room, as if there were a number
of genteel observers, instead of two little boys with a stick of
toffee between them with which to beguile the time.
We stopped short at the second front row; I could hardly understand
why, until I heard Miss Pole ask a stray waiter if any of the
county families were expected; and when he shook his head, and
believed not, Mrs Forrester and Miss Matty moved forwards, and our
party represented a conversational square.
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