## Chapter 133: The Social Circle of Upper-Class Ladies
The morning always passed quickly, but some people had fulfilling mornings while others started their day at noon.
Elder finished washing up in the bathroom and stretched as he walked out of the room.
He had just walked down the stairs when he saw Dumas, covered in dust and holding a few cloves of garlic, walking back in with a cheerful smile.
Elder smacked his lips and asked, “Why do you French people always love eating garlic? What’s the point? Fresh breath?”
Dumas, without hesitation, retorted, “Loving garlic is better than loving London girls. Since I arrived here, I’ve never seen such beautiful cows in France.”
Dumas then walked over to Darwin, who was sitting on the living room sofa reading, and asked, “Charles, tell me more about that ‘hysteria’ later. I was fascinated by it last night. I have to admit that I used to have a prejudice against the British, until I met you. I finally understand that there are some British people who can be communicated with in human language.”
Darwin raised a finger to scratch his cheek. “Are you complimenting me?”
Dumas shook his head and pointed to Elder standing on the stairs. “No, I’m insulting the idiot standing over there. Of course, I have to admit that his brain full of erotic garbage isn’t completely useless. If you put him in the right environment, he can at least provide some insignificant nautical knowledge.”
Elder shrugged, sarcastically shouting to Dumas, “I hope the fighting ability of the French navy is as strong as your mouth.”
Dumas shot back, “Don’t you worry about that. You should be grateful that Britain is an island, otherwise you would have already become second-class citizens of France.”
“Is that so?” Elder retorted, unconvinced. “I think that even the fighting ability of the Royal Navy after landing would not be inferior to the French artillery.”
“Oh! Thank God!” Dumas clasped his hands together, looking like he was begging for God’s forgiveness. “I beg you, please don’t say that. In the French context, the sentence ‘British soldiers landing’ doesn’t mean something that can be casually stated in public.”
Elder scratched his head, puzzled. “Why?”
Dumas glanced at him, “Have you forgotten what color the British soldiers’ uniforms are? In France, ‘British soldiers landing’ is usually a way for an elegant French lady to express her physical discomfort.”
As soon as Dumas finished speaking, Arthur, who was buried in reading the newspaper, couldn’t help but glance at the Red Devil, who was sitting leisurely humming a tune.
Agareus keenly caught his gaze. The Red Devil was taken aback for a moment. He lowered his head to look at his dark red skin, then furiously pointed at Arthur and shouted, “Arthur! I warn you, don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking!”
Arthur’s gaze drifted slightly before landing back on Dumas.
He put the newspaper aside and asked, “So, Alexander, have you got any leads on your novel? I have to go to General Codrington’s party next Sunday, and you have to write the article for me this week.”
Dumas threw the cloves of garlic he was holding onto the coffee table, then stuffed himself into the living room sofa.
“What’s the rush? This should be a pretty long story. I need to think it through carefully, and a story this long will take me at least half a year to deliver the finished product.”
Arthur picked up his teacup and said, “You’re so eager for money, can you wait half a year? Let me give you some advice. If you can hit it big with your opening at General Codrington’s party, I can consider helping you contact a newspaper with a good circulation. You can deliver a few chapters each week and publish them in serial form. That way, if the reader response is bad, you can also cut your losses and consider coming up with a new idea.”
Dumas was stunned for a moment, then slapped his thigh and stood up excitedly. “How did you come up with this idea? You get paid once for serialization, and you can get paid again for a separate book when it’s finished! That’s a genius idea! It’s no wonder you Brits are good at business!”
Arthur nodded slightly. “By the way, how about the suggestion I gave you? Just change the title. Don’t call it ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’s Revenge’. How about ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’? Readers don’t care about some Edmond Dantes. They prefer the story of a count, rather than an unknown little character.
I know you might want to imitate Defoe’s ‘Robinson Crusoe’ with that name, but you may not know that ‘Robinson Crusoe’ is just an abbreviation of the title. After Defoe became famous, he could sell books even with such an ordinary title, so publishers were too lazy to print its original name on the cover.”
” ‘Robinson Crusoe’ is an abbreviation?” Dumas scratched his curly hair. “What’s its full name?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. He stood up and pulled out an old book with a yellowed cover from the living room bookshelf and threw it on the coffee table.
There was a thud, and a cloud of dust rose from the coffee table.
Dumas leaned in, and he finally saw the full name of the 1719 first edition of “Robinson Crusoe” – “The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner: Who, being shipwrecked near the Mouth of the Great River Oroonoque, on the Coast of America, and by strange Accident, escaped to a desolate Island, and lived there 28 Years, all alone, till he was at last as strangely deliver’d by Pyrates.”
This long, bizarre sentence almost covered the entire cover. If a reader unfamiliar with the situation saw it, they might think it was the publisher trying to save paper, so the story started from the cover.
Dumas finally gave up at this point. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and said, “Okay, I’ll listen to you.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly heard the sound of a doorbell ringing – ding-ding-ding.
Elder yawned and opened the door, and an old gentleman in a tailcoat appeared in front of him.
The old gentleman smiled and tipped his hat, then asked, “Is Sir Arthur Hastings at home?”
“Who are you?”
“I am the steward of the Rothschild family. Our young master Lionel Rothschild sent me to deliver a hunting invitation to Mr. Hastings. If he’s not here, please forward this letter to him and inform Sir Hastings that Mr. Lionel will meet him at Marble Arch next Sunday morning at eight o’clock.”
Arthur heard this and stood up to walk to the door. He immediately recognized the man’s face as familiar. It was the servant who followed Lionel in the real estate trading hall the other day.
He smiled and extended a hand to invite the man in. “Come in for a cup of tea if you have time.”
The old steward smiled and accepted Arthur’s invitation. He stepped into the living room, first glanced at Dumas, who was sprawled lazily on the sofa, and then observed Darwin, who was lost in thought over a natural history notebook. He already had a rough idea of their identities in his mind.
After a brief greeting, Arthur took out a white porcelain teacup from the cabinet and personally filled it with tea for the old steward.
The old steward saw this and couldn’t help but gently advise, “Sir Hastings, in my opinion, it’s better to hire a servant who can provide simple housekeeping services. This house has six rooms. You and your friends have occupied four. The other two are perfect for hiring a coachman and a maid. If you find hiring a servant too troublesome, we can also help you ‘recruit’ one.
The social circle near Hyde Park isn’t too low. If guests come to your house and you, the host, are always busy and have no time to entertain them, it could lower your social reputation.”
Arthur, of course, understood what the man meant. He smiled and nodded.
“Thank you very much for your suggestion. I will definitely consider it if I have the chance. But at the moment, I really don’t have the time to focus on other things. You should know that Scotland Yard has been working on several big cases recently, and I also have to constantly monitor public opinion. I’m not at home most of the time. Free time like today is really rare.
I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to explore the social sphere yet. For example, you just mentioned that Lionel wants to invite me to hunt outside the city next Sunday. Although I’ve always wanted to go to the forest with him to hunt rabbits and chat, I already have plans for next Sunday. I’m really sorry.”
“You already have plans for next Sunday?”
The old steward was slightly surprised at first, but in a flash, he didn’t show any disappointment or anger. Instead, he secretly admired Arthur even more.
He smiled and asked, “Although it’s rude to ask, but I wonder what activity you’re planning for next Sunday? If it’s a date, or getting closer to friends, I happen to know a few good restaurants. Maybe I can recommend them to you.”
Arthur didn’t plan to hide anything from him. On the contrary, he was even a little interested in asking this old Rothschild steward for some information.
Because he was really unsure about General Codrington’s party next Sunday.
Before this, he had never attended any upper-class gatherings, and he didn’t know what he should prepare.
If the old steward was willing to give some pointers, that would be the best thing for Arthur.
He asked, “Do you know General Codrington of the Channel Fleet? He’s going to be back in London for a vacation next week, so Mrs. Codrington is planning to hold a party at home. I just received an invitation.”
“Ah… Mrs. Codrington…” The old steward realized what was going on. “I guess I know why General Codrington wants to invite you. Does he hope you can talk to them about the emerging field of electromagnetism at the party?”
Arthur smiled and took a sip of tea, teasingly asking, “Does anyone from Rothschild receive an invitation too? Why do you know so much about this?”
The old steward chuckled. “No, no. You’ve probably been too busy with your official duties, so you’re not familiar with London’s social circles. The ladies of London’s elite are divided into many groups, and Mrs. Codrington is the leader of one of the well-known groups.
I have to say, the ladies in that group generally have quite interesting and unconventional personalities. It’s no surprise that they would invite a rising scientist like you. After all, they’ve been doing this since the 1950s and 1960s of the last century.”
Arthur, hearing this, was also curious. “So, what kind of group does Mrs. Codrington belong to?”
The old steward took a sip of tea. He knew that explaining this group to Arthur would be quite troublesome.
He asked.
“You know the ‘Blue Stocking Society’ founded by Mrs. Montagu? Or you can call it ‘The Learned Ladies’. I think you may have heard of the motto that Mrs. Montagu, the founder of the Blue Stocking Society, set for this society – ‘No card playing is allowed in my salon, nor shall we talk about whose daughter can’t find a husband, or whose servant ran away. I don’t want to waste time idly. We should talk about something with substance.
If you want to make a good first impression on them, I suggest you wear a pair of blue socks you use daily to the party, because the ladies of that society are just like the name of the group – the Blue Stocking Society. It’s not the white silk stockings favored by upper society, nor the elegant black silk stockings. The ladies of that society are quite rebellious.”
(End of Chapter)